Chương 7: Test

Knock. Knock. Knock. The quiet sound found Mark on the floor beside one of the beds, stubbornly trying to take a few steps along the wall without falling. His legs trembled as the knock sounded again. He had spent months preparing for this day, imagining how it might go. None of that preparation made him feel any less afraid.

"Welcome, Father," Mari said, bowing low. This time, she and Terry seemed far more relaxed than before, as though today's test were merely a formality.

"Welcome, Mari. Blessed be this house. Terry."

"Welcome, Father. I hope the road here was passable?"

"Yes, yes, though the bridge over the Winder Creek will need reinforcing this year. Otherwise, it may not survive the next thaw."

"Of course, Father. As always, you can count on my hands."

"I know, Terry, but I'll bring it up at the village council when the time comes," the man replied, accepting a mug of beer from Mari.

"Well now, and who's glaring at me like that? My, how much you've grown!" he added, voice surprisingly lighthearted as he looked at Mark. Mark had spent countless hours imagining how this meeting might unfold, running through scenario after scenario in his mind. Now that it was actually happening, every single one of them seemed ridiculous. Worse, they were alone. His parents had sent his siblings outside more than an hour earlier, and somehow Mark had failed to appreciate what that meant until now.

Sari would not be there to interrupt anything this time. Every part of his body screamed at him to run.

"This is a very smart child," Mari said proudly.

"I've raised quite a few already, so I know what I'm talking about. He practically never cries. I think, Father, that one day he might even seek your position."

"That would be wonderful. How many years has it been since Three Meadows last sent a candidate to the temple school? Fifteen?"

"Seventeen, Father. I still remember how my friends and I escorted the temple procession with Eddy all the way to Horsh's Grove," Mari replied, a flicker of nostalgia crossing her face.

"Shame he died," Terry muttered.

"He died while giving the last rites to the victims of the Red Plague. That very same day, he entered the heavens and sat at Sul's right hand." Was that... envy in the priest's voice? That was a disturbingly enthusiastic way to talk about dying.

"But enough of that, let us not delay the test any longer," the priest announced, pulling a crystal from within his robes. It was about the size of a fist, transparent except for a thin brass wire protruding from one end. It looked almost disappointingly harmless. Mark's new perception told a different story. The crystal stood out sharply against the surrounding mana. The currents nearest its surface bent subtly toward it.

"Child, there is nothing to fear." The man sounded sincere, but Mark still did not trust him. He still had nightmares about those grey eyes and the sensation of something pressing against parts of him he couldn't even name.

"I will simply touch your little hand with this wire, and then the crystal will glow a lovely yellow." As he spoke, the priest slowly demonstrated by pressing the crystal against his own hand. And indeed, the artifact immediately lit up with a soft yellow glow, drawing quiet gasps of admiration from Mark's parents.

"Every time, Sul's light is so beautiful."

"Mari," the priest sighed, though there was no real irritation in it.

"I've told you before. It is not Sul's light, but the light of His children reflecting the glory of the Allfather." The man turned his gaze back to Mark.

"Perhaps we should sit him down on a chair?" Without hesitation, Mari walked over to Mark and picked him up in her arms.

"You'll behave, won't you? You'll show us the Allfather's light?" she asked, her eyes shining brightly.

"Oh, he's trembling all over from excitement!" Where was Sari? What would happen if the crystal stayed dark? His thoughts spun until the room seemed to move without him. Mari set him on the chair, and the hard wood pressed against the backs of his legs. Her fingers passed once through his hair as Varix approached with the crystal held carefully in his hands. Where was that damned Voice now? Everything seemed to slow as the crystal came closer. Then cold metal touched his palm. Mark flinched.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. It wasn't pain. It felt more like the sudden drop of an elevator, except somehow confined to his hand. Something pulled at the mana inside him. Not violently, and not hard enough to noticeably drain his reserves, but clearly enough that Mark could follow what was happening. Mana streamed down his arm and gathered near his fingertips. Then stopped. Mark frowned.

The crystal continued pulling, but something inside him refused to let the mana cross that final distance. He had not chosen to stop it. His body was doing it on its own. The longer nothing happened, the more unreal the room became. Mark knew he should be thinking, planning, doing something, yet every thought seemed to move through syrup. Varix's expression slowly shifted into confusion. Beside him, Mari's smile faltered, while Terry leaned forward with a deepening frown. The crystal did not glow.

The priest pulled the artifact away, wiped its tip against the edge of his robe, and pressed it against Mark's hand once more. The familiar pull returned, only to meet the same resistance.

"No. No, that's impossible," his mother finally whispered in disbelief. The color drained from Mari's face as her gaze darted between Mark and the crystal.

"But he passed the last test. What does this mean?"

"Uhh…" The priest stared back and forth between Mark and the artifact, visibly shaken himself.

"I'm not certain…" Without asking, he pressed the crystal against Terry's hand. A dull yellow glow appeared within it. He waited a moment for the light to fade before placing it against Mark once again. Again, Mark's mana streamed toward his hand and stopped against the same invisible resistance. Terry had made the crystal glow without even noticing the pull. Mark had now failed three times. His heart hammered faster. He needed to do something. But what?

"There is no light within the Abyss…" the priest murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

"No!" The word tore itself from Mari's throat. Mark had never seen his mother cry before. She looked as though the ground had just vanished beneath her feet. The crystal, the test—he had to act before it was too late.

"I will have to send word to Jakara," the priest said, steel creeping into his voice.

"Until then, the child will remain at the temple."

"You cannot take him, Father! This must be some mistake! Sul's light has always blessed this house. My son is one of His children." The defiance in Mari's voice clearly surprised both the priest and Terry. The respect she had shown earlier had vanished somewhere along the way, replaced by a grim determination. Mark had seen that look before on patients lying beside him in hospital beds after receiving prognoses that offered almost no hope. They had been terrified too.

Some of them had simply decided to fight anyway.

"Mari—" Terry reached a hand toward her.

"Sul." The room fell silent. For one suspended moment, nobody moved. All eyes turned toward Mark.

"Did he say 'Sul'?" Mari asked.

"I think he did," Terry said. The priest blinked.

"He can already speak?"

"Not yet. Child, what did you say?" But Mark merely looked at the crystal and waved his hand, as though trying to touch it from afar. The adults exchanged uncertain glances. After a moment, the priest crouched beside the chair again and pressed the artifact against Mark's hand. The pull returned as Mark closed his eyes and concentrated. The same resistance rose immediately. It wasn't a wall he had consciously built.

It felt closer to jerking his hand away from a flame, something his body did before thought had any chance to interfere. Mark tried to force past it, but nothing changed. He remembered the first test. He still did not understand what Varix had done, but he remembered the pressure and his own instinctive refusal to yield. This felt strangely similar, except this time Mark wanted to let something through. He focused on the pull from the crystal.

The amount of mana it wanted was tiny; Terry hadn't even reacted when tested. Whatever caused the instinct, losing that much mana could hardly matter more than what would happen if the crystal remained dark. Instead of fighting the resistance, Mark tried something simpler. He stopped treating the pull as a threat. Slowly, the tension inside him loosened, and mana crossed the barrier.

"Oh!" his mother gasped.

"Beautiful." He opened his eyes. The artifact was glowing with a strong orange light, so intense it was almost red. Varix remained silent for several seconds before slowly withdrawing the crystal.

"Remarkable." Mari broke first. She pulled Mark against her so tightly that he could barely breathe, crying openly now from relief, while Terry let out a loud, nervous laugh that sounded almost painful. The tension that had filled the room finally began to break. Varix alone remained quiet. His gaze lingered on Mark longer than necessary before he finally nodded.

"The boy carries a strong light." That night, Mark couldn't sleep. The test had come far too close to ending everything. All it had taken was a crystal that refused to glow and a priest who didn't know why. A few seconds more, and Mark might already have been on his way to the temple. He watched mana drift through the room. Watching the slow currents gave him something to focus on besides how close the day had come to disaster. Then something familiar flickered at the edge of his awareness. Not mana. The System.

He reached for it at once. The distant echo sharpened. Name: ▉ Race: Human Profession: Child Traits: Child, Emissary of ▉ Lvl: 0 Experience: 0/100 Stamina: 10/10 Mana: 20/20 Endur— It vanished. Mark remained perfectly still, afraid that even breathing too deeply might disturb whatever echo remained. The first glimpse had given him only a handful of labels. This one had shown him numbers. Level. Experience. Stamina. Mana. He did not know what the numbers meant yet, but numbers could change. They could be measured.

Compared. Maybe mana really was the key. Or perhaps allowing the crystal to draw from him had loosened something that had been closed before. He tried to reach for the System again, but nothing answered. That was frustrating, but it had appeared twice now, and the second glimpse had shown him far more than the first. There were rules here. And rules could be learned.