Four of the finest black horses snorted, their breath steaming in the morning air.
"Not even my siblings?" Calian asked as he stood before the carriage door, which a servant had opened.
"Young Master Alaric and Young Master Beren are at the border. Lady Clara is at the magic tower," Sebastian replied.
"Good. Perfect," Calian muttered. "I go alone to determine my fate. Very self-reliant."
He stepped inside the carriage. The door closed.
BAM! The sound isolated him once more.
The carriage began to move. Wheels rattled over the neat cobblestone streets of the noble district. Calian rested his head against the window, watching the rows of lavish mansions.
"Gods..." Calian whispered, his eyes distant. "If You truly exist... what do You plan for me? Why did You place me in this family if I don't possess the talents they do?"
For the past five years, Calian had often wondered. Why was he different? His three older siblings were enthusiastic about swords and magic. They thirsted for blood and victory. As for Calian? He preferred to sit in the library, reading about the outside world, about how the economy worked, or simply observing ants cooperating to carry a bread crumb. But in the eyes of the Larvin family, that was not talent. It was weakness.
The Abyss of Emptiness. That was the term Calian often used internally to describe his feelings. He felt like he was slowly falling into a dark well. He could see the light above—the luxury, the wealth, the status—but he couldn't touch it. He was drowning in expectations he couldn't meet.
"Perhaps..." Calian looked at his reflection in the carriage window glass. "Perhaps if I don't receive a strong blessing... Father will cast me out. And perhaps... that might be the best thing that could happen."
The dark thought danced in his head. To become a commoner. Free from the Larvin name. Free from those cold stares.
"But I'm afraid," he admitted quietly to the emptiness of the carriage cabin. "I'm afraid of being alone out there."
The journey took thirty minutes. Closer to the city center, the atmosphere grew bustling. Today was the Day of Blessing Confirmation, the day when all children reaching the age of 12 across the empire gathered at the Great Temple to awaken their Mana Core or Aura Heart.
As the carriage turned into the temple square area, Calian could hear the commotion outside. He peeked out slightly. A sea of people. Carriages were lined up, but none were as luxurious as his. People respectfully—or fearfully—made way when they saw the lion crest on Calian's carriage.
"Power is indeed terrifying," he murmured.
The carriage stopped. The door was opened from outside by a visibly nervous temple guard knight.
"W-Welcome, Young Master Larvin!" the knight stammered, bowing deeply, not even daring to meet Calian's eyes.
Calian sighed deeply, putting on his mask of a blank expression. He descended from the carriage gracefully, a movement he had practiced since he could walk. His chin was slightly raised, his eyes staring straight ahead, cold and untouched. The perfect posture of a high noble.
Yet, a storm was raging in his heart.
In front of him, the Great Temple stood majestic with white marble pillars soaring to the sky. But it wasn't the building that caught Calian's attention. It was the people around him.
There were hundreds of children his age.
To his left, he saw a simply dressed boy, perhaps a merchant's son. The boy looked nervous, his hands trembling. But next to him, a plump woman with a kind face held the boy's hand tightly.
"Don't be afraid, son. Whatever the result, Mother is proud of you," Calian could faintly hear the woman whisper.
Calian paused. His steps halted momentarily.
On the other side, a low-ranking noble girl was laughing with her father, who lovingly ruffled her head. "Come on, let's see what kind of miracle you possess!"
Calian swallowed. His throat felt dry. That familiar pain surfaced in his chest again. Envy. Not envy of their possessions—their clothes were cheap, their carriages shabby—but envy of the warmth emanating from their interaction.
"Young Master?" the guard's voice broke his reverie.
Calian blinked, chasing away the heat in the corners of his eyes. He must not cry. A Larvin does not cry in public.
"I am fine," Calian replied coldly. "Show me the way."
He walked, cutting through the crowd. People whispered as he passed.
"Look, that's Duke Larvin's son." "That purple hair... he must be incredibly strong." "I heard his older siblings are monsters. He must be a monster too." "But... why did he come alone? Where is the Duke?"
The whispers were like tiny needles pricking his skin. They saw 'Larvin', not 'Calian'. They saw a symbol of power, not a lonely twelve-year-old boy.
Calian clenched his hands at his sides, his fingernails digging into his palms.
You're all wrong, Calian thought inwardly, his eyes sharply focused on the wide-open temple gate. I am not a monster. I am just a little boy whose own parents wouldn't even spare an hour to accompany him.
He stepped into the vast main hall of the temple. The pungent aroma of incense immediately greeted him. In the center of the hall, a giant crystal floated, emitting a soft rainbow light. Priests in white robes stood in neat rows. Other children had already begun lining up, their faces a mixture of hope and fear.
Calian stood there, amidst the crowd, yet felt more isolated than when he was alone in his room. Among hundreds of people, not a single one looked at him with affection. Only looks of respect, fear, or curiosity.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his frantic heartbeat.
"Alright," he whispered to himself, gazing at the crystal with a fragile, challenging look. "Show me, Gods! Am I truly destined to be alone at the top, or... am I merely a joke You created for this family?"
And as his turn drew nearer, Calian felt the abyss of emptiness within him widen, ready to swallow whatever the result would be.