The Blessing of the Unseen

The air was thick with anticipation as I stood at the back of the grand temple, surrounded by my fellow students from the academy. This was the highlight of our fifth year: the day we would receive the blessing of a patron god. Rumors swirled about who would be chosen by the most revered deities – Rothal, god of warriors, or Bentil, god of order. Both were known to favor those with strong convictions and unyielding dedication. I felt a flutter in my chest, not just from excitement, but also from the weight of expectation. As a member of the semi-nomadic Tabir tribes, I had faced my share of skepticism and outright hostility from my peers and even some of the instructors. The empire of Baukis had a long and complicated history with my people, marked by conflicts and distrust. Many believed that we Tabirs were uncivilized and unsuited for the refined world of the imperial court. I had worked twice as hard as my classmates to prove myself, pouring all my energy into my training, determined to defy the doubts and prove my worth. The high priestess, resplendent in her ornate robes, stepped forward to begin the ceremony. With each student's name called, they would kneel before one of the statues of the patron gods, close their eyes in meditation, and seek the blessing of their chosen deity. Some had spent months preparing for this moment, pouring over ancient texts and practicing their meditation techniques. When my name was called, I made my way to the statue of Rothal, the god of warriors. I had always admired his strength and unwavering courage. I knelt before the statue, feeling the cool marble beneath my knees. Closing my eyes, I focused on my breath, seeking to clear my mind and open my heart to the divine. As I meditated, the temple around me grew quieter, until all I could sense was my own heartbeat. I opened my eyes to find myself enveloped in an inky blackness. Grey fog wafted around me like spectral tendrils. I strained to see anything, but there was nothing. Then, two red eyes appeared in the darkness, piercing and unyielding. The air seemed to vibrate with an otherworldly energy. The eyes drew closer, and I felt the presence coalesce into a figure. Fyrke, goddess of darkness, emerged from the shadows. Her raven-black hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of night. She draped her arms around me, pulling me close. Her voice was a low, husky whisper that sent shivers down my spine. "You, Tabir, will be my champion," she declared, her breath warm against my ear. "I will grant you the power to navigate the shadows, to move unseen and strike without warning. You will be my instrument in the mortal world." As suddenly as it had begun, the vision ended. I found myself back in the temple, gasping for breath. The high priestess stood before me, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "Move, young one," she said gently. "The next student awaits their blessing." I stumbled to my feet, feeling dazed and disoriented. The other students were watching me, their faces a mixture of confusion and envy. I wondered if I had really seen Fyrke, or if it had all been a product of my own fevered imagination. But the memory of those red eyes lingered, and the feeling of being chosen by a goddess I had never thought to invoke. I took a deep breath, trying to make sense of what had just happened, and stepped aside to let the next student receive their blessing.