Two nights before the Revelation Day
Rain was pouring heavily over Wahum. It slid down the stone steps of the Cathedral of Everlasting Life, turning them slick and silver beneath the moon.
Mihel climbed slowly, every step threatening to make him slip. 'This is some serious rain. A bad omen before the new year?' he wondered.
Ahead of him, his parents ascended in silence, heads bowed, hands folded, beneath the great Lady they worshipped. Mihel felt the usual weight of the place, making him feel small and insignificant.
The Cathedral gates towered above him. The great stone doors were built in between two arches made of a dark green emerald as it met above the door into a metal spire. The dark windows were dripping water as the winds continued it's relentless force.
Mihel craned his neck upward. Some rain fell into his eyes, blurring his vision. 'Damn this…rain had to choose this night to pour…' he rubbed his eyes with his arm and continued up the stairs.
After a few more steps he reached the front grounds, the path to the door made of white bricks, was reflecting all the water that was falling, making it look like a night sky shining with stars.
Ahead was the Church. Carved into both sides of the massive entrance stood the Lady of Everlasting Life. Her eyes soft and caring, her hair flowed to her waist, some strands braided with deliberate care. She wore a loose skirt which wrapped her form in an elegant manner, the Lady stood calm despite the storm.
Her hands were cupped and outstretched toward the world, and resting in her palms was a perfect sphere.
Within it, Mihel could just make out tiny shapes. Humans. Animals. Plants. Life itself. Mihel stared at it in fascination, like he had always done, whenever he came here.
The rain thickened, turning sharp and cold. The wind howled louder, the chill piercing through his woollen cloak.
Mihel quickened his step and hurried after his parents.
Just before crossing the threshold into the Cathedral, lightning split the sky. It was immediately followed by a loud BOOM. The ground seemed to tremble under Mihel.
'It can't get worse than this at least.'
Another flash of lightning, and for a single breath, the stone eyes of the Lady seemed to move, following Mihel as he moved.
He froze.
A sensation crept up his spine, cold and invasive, as though something unseen had noticed him.
Then the thunder struck, and the moment shattered, fading away as if it was just his imagination.
'What was that?....This rain, this cold, and that feeling…it's putting me off'
He slowly stepped inside. His clothes dripping onto the church's floor.
'Forgive me Lady…the floor is wet…' Mihel thought. Somewhat sarcastically.
The entrance corridor ahead, stretched long and narrow, lit by soft lanterns. He could see his parents were already near the altar, speaking in hushed tones with Father Mirysis.
Mihel slowed, his eyes drifting to the murals lining the walls.
They depicted the Lady's miracles. The spread of her doctrines. Life restored, wounds healed, death denied. All of them glorified Her.
He had walked this corridor many times before, ever since he was a small child.
Yet every visit made his chest tighten.
The paintings pressed in on him, their certainty suffocating, as though the doctrines themselves were compressing his lungs, almost like he was being forced to believe. He clenched his jaw and forced himself forward.
The main hall opened wide before him. By morning it gleamed gold, alive with hymns and light. Tonight, it was quiet. Serene. The walls on both sides rose high, and arch that met the beautiful ceiling made of the same dark green emerald. The Cathedral was built in the shape of a rectangle, with one end having a statue of the Lady in pure gold. The pews were arranged in three rows, all facing this statue.
As Mihel approached the altar, pressure settled over him. A pressure that tried to make Mihel's back bend down.
This pressure was not something physical. Something deeper.
The weight of Destiny. The weight exuded by the Father simply by existing.
'This level of power….I wonder what Circle I have to reach to achieve this….'
Mihel knelt and touched his forehead to the cold stone at Father Mirysis's feet. His robes matched the ceiling, the green shining a bit because of the moonlight that entered the hall.
A firm hand lifted him upright.
"So, Mihel, finally a young man," the Bishop said warmly, "your Revelation Day arrives the day after tomorrow, eh, son? Good…Good."
His voice echoed softly through the hall. "Worry not. The fair Lady will shower her blessings upon thee, and thou shalt be full of life forevermore."
He paused. Expectantly.
Mihel swallowed and completed the verse.
"And thou shalt live as one with the populace, and one for the populace, spreading the grace of the Lady."
He exhaled. "Life with Others, Chapter Four, Verse Twelve, Father Mirysis."
The Bishop smiled, pleased. "Well spoken. Your Destiny will be a great blessing to all, Mihel. Just like your faithful parents." He chuckled amiably, before he turned serious.
He raised his hands. The sleeves of his green robes reaching his elbows.
"Let us pray."
The family huddled together, heads bowed, eyes closed.
Father Mirysis's voice rose, resonant and commanding. His words felt like the song of a bird on a beautiful night.
"O Lady who watches over her people, we pray unto thee this night. Grant a wondrous future to these faithful children. Let them witness thy glory and become living testimony to thy goodness. O Lady, appear once more."
"And bless us again," Mihel whispered, his parents echoing the words beside him.
The Father touched his heart once and the tapped the heads of the three of them. He opened his eyes and smiled. "Very well, the Lady will go forth with you. Praise the Life."
When it was over, Mihel stepped outside into the rain, which had calmed down a bit while he was inside.
His parents remained behind, duties calling. The Father had some matters to discuss. After all, they served this very Cathedral.
In the small village of Wahum, the Fountain of Everlasting Life was the only significant church for the people.
***
Mihel snapped back to the present. The image of Father Mirysis praying slowly moved away from his mind. The dread of the moment crept up on him again.
His breath caught as the Slate hovered before him. A thick slab of white, with ornate golden borders. The Destiny Slate.
He grabbed it. Anticipation building up. His heart beating faster.
He noticed the reactions of others as they received their Destinies.
A letter formed on the slate.
'H'
Then another.
'He'
Relief flooded his chest. It was going to be Healer, his parents would be happy, they would be proud.
He took deep breaths. 'It's all good.'
And then the letters vanished. Sudden, almost ferociously.
Mihel's face darkened. 'What?'
New words carved themselves into the Slate.
'Destiny not found'
Mihel stared. 'Not found?'
'What?'
'Is that even possible?'
Around him, murmurs rippled through the crowd. Smug smiles. Some quiet tears. Everyone was absorbed in their own revelation.
Nobody realising what had happened to Mihel.
Mihel turned sharply to Riche.
'Is his normal? What happened to my Slate?....'
"Riche? Everything good?" he said aloud.
Riche flinched, gripping his Slate too tightly. "Oh. Yeah. No problems. Just-"
GONG
The sound rang out, silencing the square.
Their highest mentor Cilluh, stood before the gate, hands clasped behind his back, looking to the courtyard where his students were assembled.
"My children," he announced, "we have grown together for many years. The bonds we share will not fade easily." His gaze swept across them. "From this day onward, you must use your powers for the wellbeing of this nation."
He paused. Scanning the faces of all the students, the ones entrusted to carry on the Exousia.
"Finally, I must ask. Are there any among you who have received Specific Fates?"
Silence. No one spoke.
Mihel frowned.
'Specific? What's that? Haha, I don't even have a Fate written.' He thought dryly.
He glanced at Riche and caught a flicker of recognition in his friend's eyes.
'He knows something.'
"Riche," Mihel whispered. "You know what that is?"
After a long pause, Riche nodded, warily, as if he wasn't too sure himself. "I'll explain later."
The mentor sighed, disappointment briefly clouding his expression.
"Very well. I will write to your families, advising the best path forward for you."
He straightened. "Remember the words of our Founder, 'Fate needs to be challenged.' My duty to you ends here, fare thee well."
He performed the standard salute, of moving the left hand across the chest starting from the right.
"Salutis Exousia!"
The students echoed the words, voices ringing against the morning sky.
***
They walked home in silence until the path emptied, until only Mihel and Riche were going in that direction.
"So," Mihel said at last, forcing a smile. "What Destiny did you get?"
Riche exhaled. "Angel."
Mihel stopped. He coughed in surprise.
'Angel Destinies are rare…. Obscure. The only known people that are Angel Destinies were probably the highest members of the Holy Order….How did Riche get it?'
He stared at Riche without answering.
'Their followers were extremely devout...and had very high levels of faith, though they have almost no contact with an actual Angel Destined.'
'But why would Riche be chosen for an Angel'
Mihel cleared his throat to reply, as Riche was looking confused at him.
"That's incredible..." Mihel said out loud. "But doesn't that mean joining the Holy Order is the only way to increase your Circle? They're… intense. And…orthodox as well."
Riche laughed. "So says the walking history archive eh? I'll figure something out. It's not like I go to another church already." He grinned, then tilted his head. "Alright. Your turn. What did you get?"
Mihel's throat tightened. 'How can I tell him….I'm so pathetic…Damn it'
"Well… something went wrong. My Slate showed 'He' for a second. Then it disappeared. After that it just said Destiny not found."
Riche froze.
"…That's not possible."
His face drained of colour, shocked by Mihel's words.
"What's wrong?" Mihel asked. 'Oh Lady….he thinks I'm a freak now….'
Riche was silent for a second. He was the staring at Mihel now.
Quickly Riche forced a smile, hands shaking. "Nothing…. Cold breeze, that's all."
He changed the subject, avoiding Mihel's eyes.
"You wanted to know about Specific Fates, right?"
Mihel nodded slowly.
"They're not just paths," Riche said. "They're events. Something you're Destined to do. Such event will also be written on your Slate."
His voice dropped.
"My mother said that's why my father never came back."
Those words made Mihel feel uneasy. The Slate, in his bag which he carried on his back, felt heavier.
'This Destiny….it feels like a curse….'
The silence continued until they reached the place from where they had to go in different directions.
Mihel waved goodbye and took the left path to his house.
Mihel had sensed it from the moment they had left their Skola.