1 Divination Day

"When the gods left the Earth, many eons ago, they moved to their palaces far above our mortal plane. Today, all that is left of them is their patronage – the abilities our young manifest by the power of their patron deities. Most of us are not so blessed. Many of us find ourselves bound to the power of spirits, gaining the power to produce small miracles: perhaps creating a drop of water, or creating the slightest breeze. Cultures all over the world, from our Grand Empire to the Ascendant Lands share in this similarity.

"For the truly powerful, that is where the similarities end. Each of the three great nations have different pantheons, with different gods and goddesses to sponsor our young. Today, it is your sixteenth birthday. Today, it is your time to find your patron – and your place."

Matt stared at the diviner, one of Hecate's chosen. She was an old woman with an elegant robe and a beautiful carved-oak staff, and her every word emanated wisdom. Though he was sure she had given this speech countless times in the past, it felt downright special. He'd spent too much time hungering for his chance to find patronage and join the ranks of the Academy of Paladins. For his chance to be like the heroes in the legends, like Ulred of the North, a mighty champion of Thor.

He stood among six other sixteen-year-olds, the only children in the small city to have their sixteenth birthday fall on this day. The room in which they stood was barren, but the materials it had been made from looked like they could weather anything and come out looking as pristine as it always had. Not once in all his life had Matt seen the building's exterior sport even the tiniest bit of dirt. Whether it was the supreme skill of the temple's cleaning staff or magic – something he wouldn't count out, given that Hecate was one of the patron goddesses of magic – it had always amazed him, not that he hadmuch opportunity to be out this way.

That said, he was the most poorly dressed among his cohorts. He wore a simple olive-green tunic, sewn and repaired a great many times. His pants were in no better shape, and his boots… well, those had seen better days. By contrast, one of Lord Dawson's children stood a few feet away from him. Finer clothes Matt had never seen on another person. With gold embroidery and not a single scrap of evidence supporting that the doublet had ever been worn, Samuel Dawson cut an imposing figure. Matt turned his attention back to the diviner.

"One by one, you will all come up to me and touch the orb I have behind me," she said, motioning to a glass ball sitting on an azure pillow. "Once you've done so, the orb will display the symbol of your patron. I don't expect you to know who or what your patron is, so I will inform you of your patron, should you require it."

Her grey eyes surveyed the room. At random, she selected one of the two girls standing in the line. She was slightly better off than Matt, but it really didn't matter, not compared to the obscene amount of wealth others in the room possessed. "Ms. Berry, would you please place your hand on the orb?" The girl shuffled forward, one hand twirling a strand of her long, blonde hair.

When she placed her other hand on the divining orb, it glowed a faint blue, but no symbol appeared. Hecate's priestess place a consoling arm around the girl's shoulders, which had now sagged. They whispered to each other, but Matt knew what they were discussing: the girl had been chosen by a water sprite. It was a useful sprite, but she'd never gain the ability to do anything other than perhaps fill a bucket of water with conjured water, and that was being generous.

The blonde girl left soon after, no doubt returning to her home, where her parents would be waiting with understanding. The gods were not impartial; they chose the nobility over the peasantry, the wealthy over the poor. A commoner went into the divining chamber with an understanding that they would leave as their mothers and fathers before them. Despite the display, Matt gazed at the hope with a burning hope that maybe he'd be selected. A dream his family had chided him for, but his dream nonetheless.

A boy was picked this time, but his fate was similar to the girl before him. His sprite, however, was that of the earth, meaning that he probably had a fair future in construction, if he ever wished to pursue it. He probably would. After all, most people tended to follow the path of least resistance, and if you had a god-given ability to move stone, might as well make a living from it.

The others found little success, at least, until Samuel. He marched forward with a confident strut, his soft shoes making barely a sound as he crossed the bare chamber. With a smooth motion, he placed his hand on the orb, and it reacted. A golden symbol as bright as the rising sun illuminated from the sphere, coalescing into the shape of a divine spear. Matt didn't need a diviner to tell him what that meant. Samuel, that privileged prick, had been chosen by Ares, the god of war.

All Samuel showed for it was an easy grin, as if he had expected this outcome from the start. Matt seethed; he had wanted to be selected by Ares. All of those with him as their patron god found great skill with weapons, as if they were living weapons. The finest warriors the Grand Empire had ever seen. And now, Samuel would enter their illustrious ranks.

Samuel exited the building, no doubt excited to report the day's success to Lord Dawson. "Are you prepared, Mr. Hammond?" The old priestess' words brought Matt back to his senses, and he approached her with a sense of trepidation. There was no way two of seven would be chosen in a single day, right?