I stretch, as a way to release my nervous energy. Today's the day. My 16th birthday, but that's not the reason for my nervous fidgeting. Today I get judged. This will decide my path in life. Whether my dreams have any substance or simply fall short. It's quiet in our house, Dad left for the kitchen already, simply wishing me good luck. I need luck for my dreams, for my ideas to survive.
Orange morning sunlight gently warms my hands and legs, giving an ethereal feeling to the morning. I am nervous, but also resigned to the fact that this is far beyond my control. It's my Recieving day. The gods will judge me, and give me the powers I need. Not necessarily what I want.
"I don't believe much of that bullshit."
I mutter quietly to myself.
If the gods gave what was needed, my Dad would have gotten a far better power. If the Gods really are giving these powers, I bet they give whatever amuses them, giving the handsome hero the powerful, useful ability, while giving the quiet kid a weak, useless one. I realise my face is scrunched up in annoyance, and quickly relax it. It doesn't matter now, I just need to hope the Gods have a kind sense of humour. I somehow doubt it.
The church is empty except for one other kid. He has blinding bright red hair, styled neatly with clean pale skin. His nice button-up shirt and dark pants give me the impression he is quite well off, or with parents who don't know how to manage their money properly. Compared to my nondescript plain black T-shirt and cargo shorts, my best clothes, he looks like royalty. He is fidgeting with his fingers frantically, so I decide not to bother starting up a conversation, preferring the awkward silence to an awkward conversation.
The boy suddenly jolts his head up, making me jump slightly. I realise now he has handsome features, and is largely masking the nervousness on his face well.
"What are you hoping for?"
He suddenly asks.
His question surprises me, I never really considered what I would want if I had the choice. I think for a moment then confidently state,
"The ability to turn any monster to dust."
The boy blinks for a second, then chuckles lightly.
"Fair enough! I wouldn't mind that power either, but it would take the fun out of Scavenging, don't you think!"
I internally scoff. The fun out of Scavenging? It must be nice to think that way, but for me Scavenging is a job opportunity, not much more. A way to pay for me and my Dad to live and enjoy the luxuries, instead of him working long shifts in the kitchen for meagre pay, just because the Gods gave him a shitty ability. Seriously, the ability to warm up his hands, what a joke! All it can do is make him a low paying cook, ignoring whatever he may have wanted to do. I don't care what my ability is, as long as it is strong enough to fight.
"I'm Degimo, what's your name?"
The boy, Degimo, decides to break the silence. I inwardly sigh then respond,
"Auka, nice to meet you."
As we talk, the priest walks out of a side door and heads towards us. Degimo whispers quickly,
"Good luck!"
"Likewise."
I respond shortly.
"Degimo!"
The voice of the priest booms, echoing throughout the church. Degimo jolts to attention immediately.
"Step forward and receive your blessing."
The priest calls, quieter this time.
Degimo steps forward and, with a gesture from the priest, puts his hand inside the box on the altar. A simple cube, made seemingly of a sort of marble, with a rectangular cutout that Degimo currently has his hand in. The darkness inside the box is too much to see anything, but that is reversed as a blinding light appears out of the crevasse. Degimo opens his mouth in surprise, but no sound leaves him. His head jolts back as the information on his power is transferred to him.
After a moment, he gingerly pulls his hand out of the box, now with a new symbol engraved onto the back of his hand, seeming to be a ball of fire.
"Congratulations!"
The priest exclaims,
"You have a close quarters pyrokinetic ability, you will be a powerful Scavenger, or perhaps a blacksmith if you so desire."
Degimo is grinning ear to ear, and with a second of his face scrunched in concentration, produces a small flame in his hand. He confidently struts back to where I am seated, his nervousness long forgotten, replaced by a pride and confidence in his new abilities.
I nod a short congratulations to him, before walking towards the altar. The priest gives me a reassuring nod before indicating towards the box. I hold my breath, but decide to rip the bandage off and thrust my hand inside. I wonder for a moment if the box is broken, before gasping. My new ability flashes through my mind, with the limitations, rules and the uses. I gasp, and slowly pull my hand back, staring at it. The symbol of a crossed-out eye stares back. I consider screaming. What a shit ability.