The Prophecy Awakens

In a cramped, dimly lit room, a pale skinny 17 year old boy lay fast asleep, his presence barely noticeable. A straw-stuffed mattress on a wooden pallet served as his bed, draped with a tattered blanket. The rough-hewn wooden walls had seen better days, and the room itself stood devoid of any adornments, save for a small, flickering candle and a few meagre possessions scattered about. Musty air penetrated the room from the lone window which is a narrow slit that barely lets in any light, emphasizing the starkness of his impoverished existence.

The room brightened with the arrival of morning's first light, gently coaxing Roderick from slumber and gradually his eyelids fluttered open. His eyes once filled with youthful innocence, now looked weary and sunken, carrying a distant and tired gaze.

With a groan, he pulled himself up into a seated position, his back straightening as if weighed down by the gravity of the moment. His voice, a low, raspy murmur, filled the room. "So, today is the day, huh?" Each word seemed to carry the weight of a lifetime's worth of experiences, etched deep into his very soul. He ran a hand through his white unruly hair, making it messier than before.

A sense of resignation hung in the air as he continued, his words tinged with weary determination. "Well then, let's get this over with." Rising from his makeshift bed, he dressed in his meagre attire: a frayed, brown shirt paired with the same black pants he had slept in, and well-worn sandals that had seen better days. These were the entirety of his wardrobe, a testament to his humble existence.

Next, he reached for a chipped mug, its imperfections telling the story of countless mornings like this one. With the scant water it held, he washed the grime from his face, the coolness a brief reprieve from the morning's warmth. He then proceeded to drained the mug, every drop savoured in a life of scarcity.

In the corner of the room, he spied a half-eaten apple. He brought it to his nose, inhaling its scent, and muttered, "Still edible." With a practiced hand, he took a bite, nourishment for the day's journey as he stepped out into the world.

Stepping out of his modest dwelling, Roderick was instantly engulfed by a cacophony of odors. It was a mélange of smoke, sweat, and the acrid tang of sewage—the signature scent that defined the outskirts of Valeria, and yet amid the olfactory assault and the gritty surroundings, life in the outskirts continued unabated. The streets teemed with the relentless hustle and bustle of its residents, each one engrossed in their daily grind. The people here, survivors of life's harshest turns, navigated their struggles with a resilience that was nothing short of inspiring. It was a place where society's failures found their refuge—the impoverished, the disabled, and those left without care or support.

In this city, the layout mirrored the stark hierarchy of its inhabitants. The Valeria clan, the elite, occupied the centre with opulent buildings that spoke of prosperity and prestige. The quality of life and architecture gradually dwindled with distance from this epicentre, echoing the harsh social divisions etched into the city.

Yet amidst this stark contrast, the crowning jewel of Valeria remained visible from all corners—the grand Valeria Academy, a towering sentinel that seemed to pierce the heavens. It was here, in this emblem of promise and privilege, that young adults at the age of 18 gathered to awaken their latent abilities. Those fortunate enough to awaken were granted entry, while others faced the harsh reality of rejection.

Roderick, standing on the fringes of the city, cast his gaze upon the majestic tower in the distance. It loomed with an undeniable allure, even for one who had seen it countless times. "No matter how many times I see it, am still amazed," he murmured in awe, his voice tinged with a mix of reverence and determination.

He clenched his fist in silent resolve, his features hardening with purpose. The majestic tower was a symbol of aspiration, a monument that fuelled his determination to overcome his humble beginnings and ascend to the place where destiny beckoned.

Roderick's gaze reluctantly departed from the magnificent Valeria Academy tower, and he set his sights on his immediate path. Navigating the ever-surging crowd, his frail form seemed almost inconsequential amid the bustling throngs. Yet, through sheer willpower and unwavering determination, he surged forward, each step an act of defiance against his own limitations.

Finally, his breathless journey led him to the doorstep of his destination. Before him stood a modest building, its unassuming façade comprised of unadorned grey stone walls and a black roof that bore the weight of countless dreams. Yet this simple building simple building stood out for two reasons. First of all despite its simple design, the architecture of this building far outshone that of any other building in the outskirts, its stony walls shining in comparison to the shaky wooden buildings all around it. The second reason was the sea of individuals lined up in front of it. The scene was a tableau of anticipation and uncertainty. A sea of young faces, each bearing a unique expression, stretched before the building. Some exuded palpable nerves, their apprehension etched into furrowed brows and restless fidgeting. Others radiated unbridled excitement, their eyes wide with wonder and the promise of untapped potential.

It was a snapshot of the diverse array of individuals who had made it to this threshold. Each of them, like Roderick, carried their own hopes, dreams, and doubts, converging here on this pivotal day. They were the future of Valeria, the young souls standing at the precipice of awakening, and their collective presence gave the simple building an aura of profound significance. Roderick looked at this scene with shaky breath, his eyes fixed on the sign that hung proudly on the front of the building. The sign, weathered by time read "Awakening centre, Northern branch.'' As Roderick looked at this sign, his resolve solidified. He was about to take his place in the queue when a massive hand draped casually over his shoulders, pulling him from his contemplation.

"Roddy! Just the man I was looking for," a voice, deep and gravelly, boomed in his ear. Turning his head to the left, Roderick met the gaze of a towering figure. Richard, standing at an imposing 6 feet and 2 inches, loomed head and shoulders above Roderick's 5 feet and 6 inches—something Roderick frequently lamented. "Jesus, you look like shit," Richard's words, though coarse, carried an undertone of genuine concern. "Did you get any sleep last night?" "Barely the minimum, as always.'' Roderick managed a tired smile. ''so how are you feeling about your chances?"

Richard chuckled heartily, his voice reverberating through the air and drawing curious glances from those around. "Me? Well, I'm pretty certain of my awakening. I am pretty awesome, after all." Roderick shook his head, bemused. "How is he always so optimistic?" he mused silently. Misinterpreting Roderick's reaction as anxiety, Richard's tone softened. "Don't worry. Whether you awaken or not, this big brother will take care of you, like I've done all these years." Roderick's chuckle was gentle, tinged with nostalgia. "Oh, really? Then I guess I'll have to take you up on that offer."

The truth was, life in the slums had never been safe. Murder, robbery, and various vices ran rampant in this region. If not for Richard, Roderick might have starved to death long ago. The corner of Roderick's mouth curled upward as he remembered how they had first met. Roderick was just three years old, and Richard, seven. He hadn't eaten for two days, wandering the slums in search of sustenance when he stumbled upon Richard nibbling a piece of dry bread in a dim alleyway. Starving and desperate, he had picked up a shard of a broken bottle and, mustering all the bravado he could, approached Richard, imitating the intimidating demands he had often witnessed adults making.

"G-Give me everything on you, and I won't h-hurt you," he had stammered, brandishing the shard with shaky hands. Richard, surprised and a little intrigued, raised an eyebrow and tossed him the remaining piece of bread. Roderick clumsily caught it and devoured it voraciously while Richard watched. When he had finished, Richard had asked, "Still hungry?" To which Roderick had nodded fervently. With a cryptic smile, Richard had simply said, "Follow me," before walking away, leaving Roderick to chase after him.

From that moment on, their fates had intertwined, and their bond had grown stronger with each passing year. They were more than friends; they were brothers, bound by a shared history and an unbreakable bond forged in the crucible of Valeria's unforgiving slums.

Standing in the seemingly endless queue, Roderick's gaze remained fixated on the mystical crystal ball. His eyes, normally distant and tired, now lit up with a mixture of hope and trepidation. This crystal ball was the arbiter of dreams and destinies, a shimmering vessel that held the power to reveal one's path in Eldora. As each person approached, they placed their hands upon the gleaming orb with bated breath. A hushed tension hung over the queue, a collective heartbeat reverberating through the air. For those whose touch awakened the ball's glow, there was a burst of exhilaration, a glimpse into a future filled with promise. But for those whose hopes were dashed by its unyielding silence, the disappointment was palpable, dreams shattered in an instant.

Roderick felt his heart pounding against his ribcage, each beat a resounding echo of his anxiety. He couldn't help but imagine the devastating prospect of failure, of being sent back with his dreams in tatters. As the line inched forward, he observed a girl's nervous approach. Her hands trembled as she touched the crystal, and a brilliant orange light enveloped it. The joy that blossomed on her face was infectious, and she moved aside to make way for the next candidate.

This pattern persisted—many failed, their faces etched with dejection, until finally, one succeeded. Roderick's turn was drawing near, and he couldn't escape the growing knot of anticipation in his chest. As he approached the stall, Roderick's gaze met the eyes of a man in his late thirties, seated behind the crystal ball. The man's brown hair was flecked with hints of grey, and a thick, well-kept beard framed his face. Without words, a silent understanding passed between them, and the man gestured toward the gleaming crystal ball.

"Place your hand on it," the man instructed, his voice smooth and reassuring. Roderick nodded, his throat dry. He took a deep breath, attempting to steady his trembling hand, and placed his right palm upon the cool, shimmering surface of the crystal ball. Time seemed to stand still as he waited, the sound of his own heartbeat echoing in his ears. For a brief, excruciating moment, nothing happened. Doubts crept in, and his heart sank. But then, as if in response to his silent plea, the crystal ball ignited with a radiant, resplendent White light. Roderick's eyes widened in disbelief, and his racing heart steadied, replaced by a rush of euphoria. "Congratulations," the man said with a warm smile. "Please step aside, and I'll attend to you shortly."

As Roderick moved away from the crystal ball, his mind swirled with the myriad of possibilities now laid at his feet. He had to shake his head to snap himself back to reality, reminding himself, "Calm down, this is just the beginning," a mantra that echoed through his thoughts as he anchored himself back to reality.

Roderick's thoughts was abruptly interrupted by a genuinely curious exclamation that reverberated through the air. His gaze swiftly darted in the direction of the voice, landing upon the supervisor who regarded Richard with keen interest. In Richard's grasp, the crystal orb radiated a vivid shade of red, a hue that seemed to pique the official's curiosity.

"Intriguing," the voice continued, its tone reflective of the official's fascination. "A late gifted, it seems." He motioned with a gesture of his hand. "Please, join those at my right, and I will attend to you shortly."

Roderick's eyes tracked Richard's departure, his expression a mixture of curiosity and mild confusion. He couldn't help but observe his friend, the questions swirling within him evident on his face. Richard met his gaze with a wry smile, before looking away his, attention on back to the ceremony. Roderick looked at him for a moment, and dragged his gaze back to the ceremony, suppressing the questions within.