The cathedral remained silent as the last of the students completed their trials. The Inquisitor, standing at the center of the hall, folded his hands beneath his dark robes, eyes hidden beneath the hood. He had seen countless candidates come and go—some faltering, some mediocre, few remarkable. Yet something about today unsettled him.
First came Caspian. The Inquisitor had expected hesitation, fumbling, the nervous failure of an untested student. Instead, Caspian moved with confidence, attuning to the threads of Aeterion with uncanny precision. The golden motes had responded to him almost immediately, as if recognizing him.
A sharp, involuntary hiss escaped the Inquisitor through his teeth. He leaned slightly forward. That is… unusual.
Then came Lio. The Ether Ascension trial was meant to separate the perceptive from the perceptually gifted. Lio had not only sensed the currents but had interacted with them effortlessly. Even the plant, a minor test of sensitivity, had bent to his awareness. The voice of the hall had expressed surprise—an echo of shock that the Inquisitor felt mirrored in his own chest.
Then came the three students who had awakened energy perception without the Blessing Trial. He had come to this backwater, Sol-Ardent, under the order of the Grand Marshal to extort the mayor—but this changed everything.
"Since all of you are done, follow me to the Blessing Trial halls," the Inquisitor said in a calm voice.
•••••
The hall of the Blessing Trial was smaller, dimly lit, but thick with anticipation. Candles floated mid-air, their flames shimmering with colors that seemed almost alive. A long table at the center held a row of small vials, each glowing faintly with a swirling, silvery liquid.
The Inquisitor's voice echoed, calm but weighted, silencing even the whisper of candle flames:
"Students, the time has come. The Blessing Trial is the rite through which your perception will awaken. Within these vials lies the blood of the Leviathan—ancient, untamed, and eternal. Drink, and your senses will open to the flow of energy that binds all life and matter."
The vials themselves seemed ordinary at first glance, yet each contained the blood of a Leviathan—ancient, untamed, and eternal. For over two centuries, no vial had run dry. The Inquisitors whispered that the blood was bound to the currents of the world itself, sanctified through a ritual lost to time. Each drop, though small, was linked to the very veins of Aether that flowed beneath the earth, regenerating endlessly with the pulse of life and energy. Only the pure of perception could drink it safely, and only then would its dormant power awaken, opening eyes to the threads that bind all things.
The students began to walk to the priest and took a vial without hesitation. A small ripple passed through the air, then everything turned silent again. Lio took his vial, and a purple light surrounded him as he ascended from dormant core to first pulse. The priests and other students watched with curiosity—and envy. Lio smiled and nodded to Caspian, who whispered, "Show off."
When it was Caspian's turn, a priest held up a vial of faint golden liquid. Caspian took it without hesitation. It burned like hot water down his throat, spreading through his chest like molten gas before sinking into his stomach. The priest beside him shifted away.
A bright, distinct light pulsed across Sol-Ardent. The aether veins beneath the cathedral trembled violently. Cracks of tri-colored energy spread, and the Leviathan blood in the cathedral's basement began spiraling outward, reaching toward Caspian.
"What is happening now?" the Inquisitor murmured, frowning.
"Stop the process!" one priest shouted.
Another priest looked at him as if he were mad and began to pray fervently.
Everyone panicked, but the cause of the commotion—Caspian's mind—was already slipping into something deeper: the past.
He saw the sky tearing apart—the cosmic rupture born from the clash of sky and earth. Then five colossal beasts emerged from thin space: a Phoenix, a Dragon, a Leviathan, a large Raven that mirrored the Dragon, and a Fox floating on the clouds.
The alien then appeared beneath them—tall, humanoid, with purple skin and a single eye in the center of his forehead. He raised his hand, but the beasts moved first. One by one, they circled him, their immense forms glowing with energy. Light, fire, and shadow swirled together, forming threads that wrapped around the alien.
Then, in a brilliant, explosive convergence, the beasts' energies fused into a single, radiant core. The alien's body twisted, stretched, and ultimately transformed, collapsing into a luminous sphere of raw, unshaped energy. The sky shattered with the force, the world around him trembling as if reality itself had gasped.
A blinding light followed, so intense it erased everything from view. When Caspian's vision cleared, the alien had perished, leaving only the core—the fusion of the five beasts' powers. Darkness gave way to a faint glow, and Caspian felt the raw tri-colored energy of the Leviathan blood surging through him.
He saw the alien turn into a core before darkness swallowed everything. A blinding light followed, revealing the alien's death, and then the vision shattered. Caspian collapsed, unconscious, his body faintly glowing with tri-colored energy.
The Leviathan's blood and the cathedral's energy entered his body, forming an egg mark similar to Jiro's mark on his stomach. The darkness and blinding light concealed it from every eye.
******