Chapter 7 – The Ceremony
The past three weeks had been some of the best of Alex's life.
Every day felt like an adventure—exploring the vast city of Lotardale, training in the courtyards, discovering hidden alleyways, and sneaking into places they probably shouldn't be. He and Max were inseparable, their friendship growing stronger with each passing day.
For the first time in a long while, Alex didn't feel alone.
It was a strange yet comforting feeling. He would wake up excited for the day ahead, knowing Max would be there, pushing him into something new—whether it was a game, a lesson, or just another reckless idea that usually got them in trouble.
Yet, as time passed, Alex began noticing things—little details that, at first, seemed unimportant. But as the days stretched into weeks, a pattern started to emerge, and he couldn't ignore it anymore.
Max had deep ties to the Elemental Church—far deeper than Alex had realized.
Wherever they went, Max seemed to know people from the Church. Priests, officers, and even high-ranking officials spoke to him with familiarity. It wasn't just casual conversation either—there was a level of respect, an unspoken acknowledgment of importance.
At first, Alex didn't think much of it. Max had lived in Lotardale his whole life; it made sense that he knew people. But the more Alex paid attention, the more he realized that Max wasn't just known—he was valued.
Olana, Max's sister, was already considered the greatest prodigy the Church had ever seen. She was spoken about with admiration, praised for her strength, wisdom, and potential. But what truly caught Alex off guard was when Max casually mentioned that he had private lessons with Bishop Marley.
Alex hadn't even known who the Bishop was at the time.
But after hearing the name whispered with reverence across the city, he quickly realized that Bishop Marley was one of the most influential figures in the Church, second only to the Pope himself.
Alex didn't know what to make of it.
At first, he told himself it didn't matter. Max was still Max. His best friend. The same boy who made bad jokes and got them into trouble. But there were moments—small, fleeting moments—when Alex couldn't shake a strange thought from his mind.
Was Max being prepared for something?
Had the Church already had plans for them before they even arrived?
The questions stirred in his mind like embers waiting to catch fire.
But before he could dwell on them for too long, the city erupted into celebration.
The long-awaited arrival of the last two heirs sent Lotardale into a frenzy of excitement.
For weeks, the city had been preparing, but now that the final two chosen ones had reached the city's gates, the energy in the air became electric.
Everywhere Alex looked, the city changed overnight.
The streets, already vibrant with life, transformed. Towering buildings were draped in banners of deep green, blue, white, and crimson—the colors of the four elements. Magicians stood in the plazas, casting dazzling light displays, filling the skies with illusions of the legendary Four Heroes.
Vendors filled the market squares, shouting their best deals to eager buyers, hoping to profit from the once-in-a-lifetime event. Inns overflowed with travelers who had come from across the continent to witness the ceremony. Nobles and ministers from every great city arrived in carriages of gold and silver, draped in the finest silks and gemstones, eager to catch a glimpse of the new heirs.
The entire city was alive, and yet…
Alex felt something shifting inside him.
At first, he had been excited. Three weeks ago, he had been overwhelmed by Lotardale's size, the newness of it all. But now, as the grand ceremony loomed closer, something unsettled him.
This was the moment that would define the rest of his life.
And he wasn't sure if he was ready for it.
The morning of the ceremony arrived faster than Alex had expected.
He woke up to the sound of distant bells ringing through Lotardale, signaling the final preparations. The city outside his window was already awake—voices carried on the wind, carts rumbled down the streets, and the scent of fresh bread and roasted meats filled the air.
A knock came at his door.
"Alex?" His mother's voice was gentle. "We need to get ready."
He groaned, running a hand over his face. "Do I really have to wear something fancy?"
Sarah smirked. "Yes. You're not going to the market, you're going to be officially recognized as an Heir. You need to look the part."
He sighed but didn't argue.
The tailor's shop was a warm space filled with fine fabrics and intricate embroidery. The walls were lined with gold-trimmed coats, embroidered vests, and ceremonial robes woven with shimmering thread.
Max, already browsing through outfits, grinned when he saw Alex enter.
"Alright, let's make you look like someone important."
Alex rolled his eyes. "I don't think clothes can do that."
"Sure they can," Max said, smirking as he held up a deep black suit. "You just have to own it."
The suit was tailored to perfection—black with crimson embroidery, the fabric resembling flickering embers when the light hit it just right. The high-collared jacket fastened with silver clasps shaped like tiny flames, while the cuffs were lined with deep red silk. A subtle fire emblem was stitched into the left side of his chest.
It was beautiful.
It was perfect.
But when Alex looked in the mirror, something didn't feel right.
He didn't look like himself. He looked like someone pretending to be important.
Max, dressed in a deep green and gold ensemble, nudged him playfully. "See? You look like someone the world should pay attention to."
Alex forced a small smile.
But deep down, he still wasn't sure if they ever would.
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long golden streaks across the cobblestone streets as Alex and his mother made their way back home to change.
The final hour was upon them.
The church's official carriage arrived just outside their house, gleaming under the fading light. The horses, large and powerful, stood restless, their hooves tapping against the ground as if they, too, could feel the importance of the night.
David was already waiting by the door.
"Ready?"
Alex hesitated, adjusting the collar of his suit before nodding.
Sarah called from inside. "Alex, hurry up! We can't be late!"
Alex took a deep breath before stepping into the carriage.
The ride was ten long minutes.
To Alex, it felt like an eternity.
He stared out the window, watching the streets blur past. He could see celebrations, performers, musicians, people cheering and laughing.
The city was alive.
So why did he feel like he was walking toward something he couldn't control?
His mother must have noticed his tension because she reached for his hand.
"You're quiet," she murmured.
Alex hesitated before whispering, "I don't know what I'm supposed to feel."
Sarah smiled softly. "However you feel, it's okay."
His father, silent for most of the ride, finally spoke.
"No matter what happens tonight, just remember—we're proud of you."
Alex swallowed, nodding.
And yet, the weight in his chest didn't disappear.
The carriage rolled to a stop.
The Grand Cathedral of Lotardale stood before them.
Pure white marble, soaring spires, golden windows reflecting the last light of day.
At the base of the grand staircase, Max, Olana, and their parents were already waiting.
Max grinned, arms crossed.
"Finally. Took you long enough."
Alex adjusted his sleeves, exhaling slowly.
"We're not late, are we?"
Olana raised a brow, her piercing gaze scanning the bustling entrance of the cathedral.
"Not yet. But close."
While David Stern exchanged formal greetings with Max's father, Sarah and Max's mother spoke in hushed tones, their excitement evident.
Max turned toward the massive cathedral doors, where ceremonial guards stood in polished silver armor.
"The other two heirs already went inside. We're the last ones."
Alex's stomach tightened.
Of course they were.
The moment they crossed the threshold, a wave of candlelit warmth enveloped them.
The Grand Hall was breathtaking—more magnificent than Alex had ever imagined.
At the far end of the hall, a massive stage had been constructed, raised high enough that all eyes would inevitably be drawn to those who stood upon it.
Directly before the stage sat four grand tables, arranged in a semi-circle—seats of honor meant for the heirs and their families.
Alex followed Max through the maze of elegant tables, where nobles dressed in the finest silks and adorned with gleaming jewelry whispered amongst themselves.
When they finally reached the front, Max's family took their seats at the first of the four tables.
Alex hesitated before lowering himself into his own assigned seat, his parents flanking him on either side.
But even as he tried to focus on the grandeur of the hall, he couldn't shake the eerie feeling creeping up his spine.
Like someone was watching him.
And when he lifted his gaze, his suspicions were confirmed.
The table beside Max's was already occupied.
Alex's eyes landed on a girl, seated with quiet confidence.
Her golden curls fell in perfect waves, cascading over her elegantly embroidered gown. She sat with straight-backed posture, her hands resting lightly on the table, her icy blue eyes surveying the hall with a sharp, calculating gaze.
She looked completely at home here.
The two figures seated beside her—her parents, no doubt—wore robes of deep blue and gold, their presence commanding yet effortless. The aura of wealth, nobility, and power surrounded them.
Alex didn't need an introduction.
This girl was an heir.
His gaze drifted further—to the table beside hers.
And that was when he saw her.
A girl, about his age, seated between a man and a woman who were likely her parents.
Her long, wavy brown hair framed delicate features, and her deep green eyes held an intensity that unsettled him.
She lacked the calculated nobility of the first girl, but there was something about her… something different.
Something familiar.
And then—she looked up.
Their eyes met.
A sudden, sharp pressure bloomed in Alex's chest.
It wasn't nerves.
It wasn't fear.
It was something else.
Something deep. Something painful.
Like a memory trying to claw its way to the surface.
Before he could make sense of it, her head tilted slightly, as if she noticed his hesitation.
And then—she smiled.
Before Alex could process the strange sensation gripping his chest, a voice rang through the hall.
"Welcome, my children."
A hush fell over the gathering.
Every head turned toward the grand stage.
The Pope of the Elemental Church stood at its center.
Draped in pristine white robes, the ancient figure exuded a presence beyond mere age or wisdom. His silver-gray eyes, despite their years, held an undeniable sharpness—like a man who saw far more than what was in front of him.
Slowly, he spread his arms wide.
"Tonight, we bear witness to the fulfillment of an ancient prophecy."
The air itself seemed to still.
Alex felt his breath catch in his throat.
The moment had arrived.