The line of anxious teenagers shifted uncomfortably, their nervous expressions deepening with every failed awakening. Each ti the doors of the side hall opened, it was never with joy, but with a crushed spirit walking out; another hopeful candidate denied the chance to be more than ordinary.
Arya's fingers tightened around Raymond's right hand.
Her palm felt cold and clammy, a stark contrast to her usual warmth.
"Raymond..." she whispered, her voice small, laced with uncertainty.
Seeing her distress, Raymond gently brushed his left hand over hers, offering a reassuring squeeze. His voice was calm, even if his own nerves were starting to creep up on him.
"It's okay… It's okay…"
Even as he said it, he wasn't sure if he was trying to comfort Arya or himself.
A female priestess, clad in the traditional white robes of the temple, stepped out of the side hall.
She scanned the line of waiting youths, her expression unreadable. But for those paying close attention, her eyes softened just slightly, as if she had seen this scene too many tis before, the endless cycle of hope and heartbreak.
She exhaled softly, then turned to the girl standing at the front of the line.
"Co in."
The girl stiffened for a mont before stepping forward.
As she disappeared inside, the heavy wooden doors creaked shut once more, sealing her fate behind them.
Monts later, the doors opened again and the girl erged with lifeless eyes, her expression blank, as though her dreams had been stolen in an instant.
Another failure.
One after another, the cycle repeated.
Each ti soone walked inside, they ca out either with quiet disappointnt or outright sobbing.
And still, no one had successfully awakened.
The statistics of the temple were ruthless, only one in a hundred would awaken into a true profession. The rest?
Ordinary. Forgotten. Left behind.
Arya's breathing grew shallow as she watched the line ahead shrink.
The closer her turn got, the more crushing the pressure beca.
Her fingers clenched tightly around Raymond's arm. "Raymond, what if… What if I fail?"
She had started the morning bursting with excitent, but now that failure seed like a very real possibility, she was terrified.
Raymond could see it in her eyes, the doubt creeping in.
And truthfully? Even he was getting nervous.
The last ti he had stood in this very spot, waiting for his own awakening, it had been exactly the sa, a long chain of failures before him.
Not a single successful awakening.
Back then, he had muttered to himself, searching for so reassurance.
And now, out of habit, he whispered again.
"It's fine… there are cushions in front… there are cushions in front…"
Arya, still gripping his arm, blinked in confusion. "Huh? Cushions?"
Raymond opened his mouth, then shut it again.
How was he supposed to explain that?
Before he could think of a response, the doors of the side hall swung open once more, but this ti, a different sound erupted from within.
"I AWAKENED! I REALLY AWAKENED!"
A young man burst out of the side hall, his face flushed with excitent.
For the first ti that morning, soone had succeeded.
His parents, dressed in simple clothing, gasped in delight.
"Roaldo! You really awakened?!"
The boy grinned and held out his arm, showing them the glowing mark etched into the back of his hand, a symbol that identified him as a Fighter.
"See? It's real!"
His family nearly broke into tears, shouting excitedly about throwing a celebration.
As they left, the tension in the square eased noticeably.
The sight of soone actually succeeding was a relief to everyone in line.
Even Arya sighed deeply, placing a hand over her chest. "Oh, thank the goddess… If no one awakened, I was seriously starting to think this whole thing was rigged."
Raymond, however, had one thought running through his mind.
"...Damn it. The cushion is gone."
He had been counting on a string of failures so that Arya wouldn't feel extra pressure, but now, seeing soone awaken before her, she would feel even more nervous about her own results.
Still, seeing her tension ease a little made Raymond relax.
After all, awakening depended entirely on magic affinity. It had nothing to do with luck, or whether soone had awakened before you.
The priestess's voice rang out once again.
"Next."
Arya froze for a mont, then turned to Raymond. "It's my turn."
Raymond nodded. "Go on. I'll be right here."
She exhaled sharply, her hand lingering in his for just a second longer before she stepped forward.
The wooden doors shut behind her, sealing her inside.
And Raymond stood there, watching, waiting, his nervousness finally sinking in.
If Arya failed to awaken…
Or worse, if she awakened into a non-combat profession like Pharmacist or Craftsman…
Then his plans for the future would have to change drastically.
He wanted her to awaken for her sake, not just for him.
Because he knew; deep down, she wanted this more than anything.
She wanted to stand beside him, not just wait for him to return from missions.
So he waited.
And hoped.
That when those doors opened again—
Arya would be smiling.
The mont the heavy wooden doors shut behind her, the world outside faded away.
The side hall was dimly lit, its stone walls illuminated by the soft glow of sacred candles. The air carried the faint scent of incense and old parchnt, a solemn reminder of the countless awakenings that had taken place here before.
Arya stood at the entrance, her hands clenched into fists, her heart hamring in her chest.
This is it.
She had to awaken, she had to beco a professional.
She wasn't content with waiting at ho anymore, listening to Raymond's stories when he returned from missions, hearing about the dangers he faced while she sat uselessly behind.
He always made it sound lighthearted, but she wasn't a fool. She knew.
He hid the worst from her.
She could hear it in his tone, see it in his eyes, the exhaustion, the scars, the battles he had barely survived.
And the waiting...
Even if it was just a day, waiting for him to co back was agony.
Every mont, she feared that sothing had gone wrong, that he wouldn't return at all.
That one day, his luck would run out.
But if she awakened, if she beca a professional, she could stand beside him.
She could fight with him, take on missions together, and help carry the burden he never spoke of.
No more waiting. No more helplessness.
She took a deep breath, determined.
The priestess standing at the front of the hall gave her a knowing look and beckoned her forward.
"Co here quickly."
Arya approached the center of the chamber, where a statue of the Sun Goddess stood in quiet majesty.
Though far smaller than the ten-ter-tall statue in the temple's main hall, this one was crafted with the sa divine precision, a serene figure of radiant beauty, holding a red tal sphere in its right hand, symbolizing the sun.
The priestess gestured to the sphere. "Place your right hand on the sun."
Arya hesitated for only a second before extending her hand, pressing her palm against the cool tal surface.
Almost instantly, a wave of warmth pulsed through her fingers, spreading through her veins, wrapping around her like a comforting embrace.
It was a warmth unlike any other, not physical, but sothing deeper, sothing powerful.
The priestess nodded. "Good. Now, close your eyes… and pray with ."
Arya swallowed hard and obeyed, shutting her eyes as the priestess spoke.
"Great, holy, and rciful Sun Goddess—"
She repeated the words softly.
"Great, holy, and rciful Sun Goddess—"
"Grant the power of awakening—"
"Grant the power of awakening—"
"Allow my fragile body to gain extraordinary abilities!"
"Allow my fragile body to gain extraordinary abilities!"
The mont the words left her lips, the warmth in her palm shifted, surging up her arm like a river of fire.
Then—
Darkness.
A vast, endless black void stretched before her.
And in that darkness, sothing shimred into existence—
A bow, drawn taut, its string stretched to the limit, an arrow ready to be released.
An Archer's Mark.
Her breath caught.
This was it.
This was her awakening.
Her heart pounded as she snapped her eyes open, excitent flooding through her.
Her gaze imdiately dropped to her right hand, and there, etched into her skin, glowing faintly—
A symbol of a bow with a fully drawn string.
The mark of an Archer.
"I… I did it!"
Arya's voice trembled with disbelief and exhilaration.
"I—I've beco an awakened one!"
She turned to the priestess, expecting a nod of acknowledgnt, perhaps even a small smile.
But instead, the priestess was frozen, her mouth slightly open, her gaze fixed on the sun sphere as if she had seen sothing impossible.
Her expression was a mix of astonishnt and disbelief.
Arya followed her gaze, confusion flickering in her eyes.
And then—
She saw it.
Two glowing numbers had appeared on the surface of the sun sphere.
And those numbers…
They represented her magic affinity. Explore stories at My Virtual Library Empire
Arya's breath hitched.
Even before seeing them fully, she knew—
Sothing wasn't normal.
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