Mantle of the Gods

“Come.”

It was such a simple command, but electricity ran up and down my spine. It wasn’t my turn right now, but soon, it was going to be my turn.

As the blonde-haired youth stepped onto the stage, two Priests who looked like they were over 50 came forward and took the cloth off of the diamond-shaped Crystal. It was as wide as my elbow to my wrist and looked almost like a pyramid. Despite how many times I’d seen it, I was still amazed at the brilliance that it showed and how you could change where you were looking at it and see the rainbow of light change and shift within the crystal.

A shout disturbed the silence as someone from the crowd tried to voice their encouragement. It was probably a family member or possibly just someone who came to see the show.

The ArchBishop took the hands of the young man.

“Are you ready to be tested?” The old man asked

“Yes.”

“Then I pray you receive a God’s Blessing.” The ArchBishop pressed the blonde’s hands against the top of the Crystal pyramid.

The young adult winced as light from the Crystal somehow only covered him. When the light dimmed there was nothing that was any different about the man.

The ArchBishop shook his balding head. “You have been tested and found wanting. It is not a bad thing that you were not bestowed a mantle, there are plenty of other ways that you can serve your God.”

I wondered if he realized that we were in a Godless zone or if he was just reciting lines to say to those who failed.

The ArchBishop motioned for the tearing-up young man to get off the stage and then point it at the next person. A red-haired woman climbed up on stage.

“Are you ready to be tested?”

“Yes,” She nodded as he took her hands.

“Then I pray that you receive a Gods blessing.”

The crystal flashed again as he pressed her hands down. After the flare, the light remained on the woman. There were words displayed on the crystal in such small print that I couldn't read what it was from where I was standing. That wasn’t what mattered though, what mattered was that she had been given a mantle.

“It is a glorious day!” The ArchBishop boomed, “The Gods have seen fit to bestow Rix the mantle of Shooter!” It was common for the Mundane to not have a last name. Such things were too fancy for the Mundane. If they became an Adventurer, then they could claim one by joining a Noble family, or try to start a Noble family of their own.

He motioned for her to step off of the stage towards the tent that they had erected. I could see what looked almost like a sigh of relief as she got off the stage and began walking in my direction. I was taken by the hard set of her jaw and captivated by her brown eyes that flicked around the crowd as if she was expecting someone to attack her. As she walked past me I was able to see faint scars on her wrist and her neck. It wasn't uncommon for Mundane to have rope burns. There were the Adventures who became very powerful, and since the Blessing of their mantle worked outside the dungeon as well, vices that the Mundane had to keep in check were easier to get away with by a Noble.

The Dispatch did have Adventurers on staff to police other Adventurers, but they couldn’t monitor everyone. All too often people used misbegotten strength as a way to intimidate and abuse others. Kidnappings were also common and I wondered if she had been on the receiving end of some such abuse. When her eyes passed over mine they paused for a second and the look she gave me was indescribable. It was scared, confident, and defiant. The way she clenched her knuckles promised as much pain as she could inflict if I dared to even speak to her.

I tried to smile to diffuse the tense exchange, but her gaze didn't linger any longer than a moment before she was scanning the rest of the crowd. I watched her until she made her way into the tent.

The person next to me hit my knee softly with the side of their fist. Before I could say anything I saw his other hand pointing at the stage. I had been so engaged in watching Rix that I hadn't noticed the ArchBishop was pointing at me

I bowed my head as I made my way to the stage. My shame only increased as the lump in my throat refused to be swallowed.