Sina

The soldier's finger pointed at one of them. "You!" the soldier commanded. "Hold this orb."

The youth quickly stepped forward and held the orb in his palms, trembling. 

Its surface remained unyielding, devoid of any magical response. 

The other youths tried, their expressions shifting from anticipation to bewilderment.

The soldier's gaze softened, recognizing their confusion. "It proves," he said, voice matter-of-fact, "that you still have no Aptitude or marks."

Once they hold the orb, the marks on their foreheads should light up, indicating that they have Aptitude.

After a few more inspections, the first gates creaked open, and the carriage passed through the outer wall. Before they entered the main gate, they first passed through a long, wide pathway. 

The tall walls lining the avenue were decorated with relics depicting dragons, symbolizing the victory of the god.

"We've arrived at the Main Gate," the driver announced, slowing the carriage.

The youths immediately descended to enter the gate. Similar to the process at the outer gate, they underwent checks, and a guide directed them towards the Ezida Church, where the god bestowed the aptitude upon the people.

As they walked, they marveled at the bustling scene around them, a mix of traders, pilgrims, and locals moved alongside them. The air was filled with the rich scents of exotic spices and the sounds of voices haggling and trading.

Mira felt a thrill of excitement. This was the life of Avylon – vibrant, chaotic, and endlessly fascinating.

"I wish you could see what I'm seeing right now, Kaviel..." Mira whispered to herself, a tinge of sadness and longing in her voice.

After a long walk, they finally arrived at the Ezida Church. Its towering ziggurat dominates the skyline. The structure was adorned with colorful glazed bricks and intricate carvings.

As they entered, they were handed over to a new guide wearing a white robe from the church.

Within its sacred walls, the church's grand halls echoed with the soft murmur of prayers and the flickering light of eternal fires. Priests clad in ornate robes tended to sacred rituals.

The youths were in awe as they admired the church's ancient architecture.

"This way," the guide said, pointing his hand.

Soon, they reached a large dual door. Upon opening it, they entered a hall where about fifty other youths were waiting for the Aptitude ceremony to start.

They joined the group of fifty, and soon after, another ten youths entered the hall to join them.

The man in the white robe stepped forward, his robe billowing like a cloud touched by dawn. His eyes swept over the assembled youths. His voice, when it came, was a gentle command that held the room in thrall.

"I believe everyone is here," he announced. He paused then gestured to an assistant. The cloth covering the golden table was whisked away, revealing a glass box.

Gasps echoed through the chamber. The box seemed to defy reality. At its heart, a sphere spun. Light energy seems to come out of its core like a miniature galaxy caught in stasis.

The man's voice resumed, low and reverent. "Inside this thick glass are the gifts from our god." His gaze swept the room, connecting with each youth. "These have been left for us to combat the coming calamities." 

Then he extended his hand toward the sphere. "Once you touch it, you will receive the Aptitude meant for you."

The youths exchanged glances, hearts pounding.

"You, right there, the man with brown hair. Come here," the man called out. He gestured for Melvin to come to the front. 

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to Melvin, who stood up straight, his well-built frame exuding confidence. 

Melvin took a deep breath and walked towards the front, his steps steady and unhurried.

As Melvin approached, the man said in a calm but authoritative tone, "Give me your right hand." 

Melvin extended his hand without hesitation, his expression showing curiosity.

The man dressed in a flowing white robe, pulled out a tiny, gleaming knife. He held it with practiced ease and cut Melvin's palm with a dagger. 

Some winced as if they could feel the cut of the dagger themselves. 

Meanwhile, Melvin flinched slightly but he didn't pull back. 

The man then gestured towards the glowing box. "Touch the sphere," he instructed as he opened the box.

Melvin nodded and stepped closer to the sphere. He could feel the eyes of his peers on him. 

With his heart pounding in his chest, Melvin reached out and placed his finger on the cool, smooth surface of the sphere.

As soon as his palm made contact, the sphere began to glow brighter. Melvin's eyes widened in awe, and he looked up, his face illuminated by the light. He closed his eyes, feeling a sense of something new and powerful awakening within him. 

"Blood is needed for the god to recognize you," the man explained. "Through blood, they will discern your strengths and weaknesses, whether your body can withstand it and how far its capacity reaches."

"After this," the man continued, "it will examine your memories, your determination, and your desire. After this process, the god will grant the Aptitude and show it to your mind."

In an instant, Melvin's forehead began to glow. The room filled with a soft, golden light as a word started to form. 

Everyone watched in awe, some leaning forward to get a better look. The word "Sina" appeared, clear and bright, marking him as Rank 2.

The man in the white robe raised an eyebrow, surprise flickering across his features. Melvin defied the odds. Rank 2 is a rarity in these times. Most youths emerged as Rank 3, 4 or 5.

"I knew you looked strong," the man muttered, "but I didn't expect your aptitude to be on par with the knight captains."

Soon after, Melvin woke up, his wound miraculously healing before everyone's eyes.

"Congratulations, you can now return with the others," the instructor announced.

Excitement buzzed through the room. Each person eagerly awaited their turn, eyes wide with anticipation. One by one, they approached the sphere. 

Most of them saw Rank 4 appear, and a few lucky ones even saw Rank 3. Cheers and claps filled the air each time.

Finally, it was Mira's turn. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stepped forward.