"You look so handsome, young lord Alane—believe me, if Lady Irina saw you, she'd be flattered by your looks."
The maid, likely in her mid-twenties, spoke with a radiant smile that could brighten the dim morning light. She adjusted his collar, the final touch to his carefully tailored birthday attire.
Alane gave a shy smile, his steel-blue eyes catching the light in the fancy mirror. His black hair, neatly combed, framed his noble face.
At twelve years old today, he was almost a man, and his shaking hands showed how big this moment felt.
"Thank you, Linda," he said quietly, his voice polite as always. He glanced at Linda, his nanny, who stood nearby with a kind smile. Her brown hair was held back with the flower-shaped clip he'd given her years ago—a present for her constant care. Linda's eyes shone with pride, but there was also a tinge of concern.
Alane's smile dimmed as he turned back to face the mirror. His chest tightened, and he saw a boy caught between fear and excitement in his reflection. It was more than just a birthday today.
He would have to undergo the sacred rite of ascension today, which will decide his future.
A knock on the door broke the stillness of his spacious, opulently furnished bedroom.
"I'll get it," said the maid softly. She walked across the velvet carpet and opened the door, revealing Duchess Sauvanne Fitzgerald. She entered with the grace of a queen, her green dress showing her sharp yet warm beauty.
When she saw her son, her kind and wise grey eyes softened.
"Mother!"
His nerves temporarily vanished as Alane's face brightened and he rushed to her.
With her black hair in a braid, Sauvanne knelt down and brushed a stray lock off his forehead.
"Happy birthday, my dearest," she said, her voice gentle and loving. She kissed his cheek, her hand resting on his shoulder.
"You look magnificent."
Alane felt a surge of pride in his chest. "Thank you, Mother. I..... I think I'm ready."
Although there was a hint of concern in her eyes, her lips formed a knowing smile. "Alane, the Rite of Ascension is an important event. Are you really ready for this?"
He stood taller, his voice steady despite the flutter in his stomach. "This day has been in my dreams for years. I have faith that the gods will lead me. I have a feeling that Lord Suarus himself might pick me."
Sauvanne laughed softly and with adoration. She stood and put a hand on his back, saying, "Fitzgerald confidence."
"Everything is prepared for the ceremony by your father. Don't make him wait. We'll celebrate with a Fitzgerald-caliber feast tonight."
Alane gave an enthusiastic nod, and they entered the Fitzgerald manor's opulent hall. As they went by, knights and servants paused to bow, their voices full of well wishes.
"May your blessing shine brightly, young lord."
"Lord Alane, happy birthday."
With his noble manners and genuine kindness, he nodded and grinned warmly at each one.
Everyone in the duchy loved him—not just because he was the eldest son of Duke Thomas and Duchess Sauvanne, but because he treated everyone, from stablehands to knights, with respect.
The large doors squeaked open to reveal that the manor's gardens outside were a riot of color, with purple irises, yellow marigolds, and red roses planted for the celebration that night. A sleek black carriage with armored guards mounted on horses, their armor shining in the early morning light.
Alane's sharp eyes spotted his father on the cobblestone path. Duke Thomas Fitzgerald stood tall and strong, his blond hair tied back, his blue eyes giving clear orders to the guards. He looked powerful, but his warmth showed when he turned to see his son.
"Father!" Alane called, running to him.
Thomas's serious face softened into a proud smile. He placed a strong hand on Alane's shoulder, his voice steady but full of feeling.
"My boy, look at you. Ready to meet the gods?"
Alane's chest puffed up, though his heart raced. "More than ready, Father."
Thomas's eyes softened, and he squeezed Alane's shoulder. "This day is yours, Alane. The Rite will show your path. Whatever blessing you receive, know that you are a Fitzgerald—and that is enough."
Alane swallowed, his determination growing. "I'll make you proud. I'll definitely get the only chosen blessing."
Thomas smiled broadly and gestured toward the carriage. "So let's not keep the gods waiting."
The moment weighed heavily on Alane as he and his family climbed into the carriage.
In the vast continent of Lavrios, every child has to take part in the sacred and obligatory Rite of Ascension when they turn twelve.
On that day, one of the Twelve Gods bestows upon them a 'blessing', a gift from God. Everything is determined by that blessing, including their status, fate, and life's course.
It was Alane Fitzgerald's turn today. He quietly believed that the most revered god of all, Saurus, the God of the Sun, would be the one to choose him.
The carriage rolled steadily through the cobblestone streets of Aderoda, the capital town of the Verdelane Dukedom. Within it sat Duke Thomas Fitzgerald, his wife Sauvanne, their youngest son Kaeln, and today's honored child — Alane Fitzgerald, who looked out the window with quiet anticipation.
After passing busy marketplaces and courtyards with stone walls for almost an hour, the carriage slowed and stopped in front of Concordia Church, a magnificent building with golden spires and white marble.
Concordia was a neutral sanctuary that existed in each region, in contrast to the separate temples devoted to the Twelve Gods. More significantly, it was the official location for the Rite of Ascension, where all Twelve were worshipped as one.
With astonished eyes, Alane was the first to step down. But he noticed something.
A commoner boy, around his age, was running out of the church excitedly, his hand extended to show a glowing mark: a cracked stone circle with roots spreading outward — the blessing seal of Dundhor, God of Earth.
"Dad, I am blessed with an uncommon!" The boy literally bounced with joy, "I can finally become a knight!" With tears of happiness, his parents proudly embraced him.
Alane watched them with a faint smile.
Flustered but reverent, a robed church official hurried up.
"Lord Duke, I sincerely apologize for the wait. You were anticipated earlier."
With the calm demeanor of the ruler, the Duke nodded simply. After that, the family was led through enormous stained glass murals of the Twelve Gods, each pane glistening with divine hues, as they passed through the center of Concordia.
The church was magnificent inside. Holy sigils carved into the marble floor, floating orbs of sacred aether, and vaulted ceilings. A glimmer of divinity filled the air.
The High Priest, an elderly man dressed in ceremonial gold and white, stood at the far end, atop a raised altar.
With a kind, practiced smile, he said, "Welcome, young Lord Alane."
"Happy twelfth birthday, too. A worthy event for a worthy child."
Alane bowed in a manner he had practiced.
The priest gave a small chuckle. "Are you aware of the significance of today's ceremony?"
Alane raised his head. His tone was composed and assured.
"Yes."
Alane knows all of this as he studied, there are four types: Common, Uncommon, Rare, and Legendary. But only the Chosen—one for each god—receives a Legendary Blessing. The chosen will pass through the next generation only if the current chosen died.
Currently, the chosen for Lord Suarus is empty.
The priest nodded, clearly impressed.
Alane's gaze lingered on the golden mural behind the altar — the image of Suarus, the Sun God, haloed in radiant fire.