Countless faces haunt my dreams. Their visages, full of disdain, send me into uncontrolled shivers. The looks of unfettered hatred bore holes straight through me as I curl into the fetal position. It doesn’t help. I can’t see them now, but their incessant whispering gets louder and louder until the cacophony of shouts blends into one blood curdling scream!

  KRATHOOM!

  My eyes shoot open as I jump to my feet instinctively, slamming my head into the sloped ceiling of the hayloft I’m… borrowing. Yeah, we’ll say borrowing. I stifle my need to cry out in pain, though a few choice expletives do come to mind. As I stand there, wincing and rubbing the lump that is already forming on top of my head, the thunder strikes again.

  Another round of nightmares. I can never get a night of peace. All of the people who’ve scorned me… I wish I could just forget them. Think happy thoughts! Happy thoughts… I haven’t known happiness since my childhood, when I still lived with my parents. When they were still alive.

  It’s only at this point that I notice the rags I’ve worn for the last three years are soaking wet, and I hear the sound of heavy rain outside. I stand shivering, with no way I can immediately remedy that situation.

  Spring is making itself known early this year. The thought drifts slowly, as if the chill affects it as much as myself.

  I find a dry spot to sit down at, resting my back against the pile of hay behind me. Today’s the day… The one day in my lifetime that could change my fate. My eighteenth birthday. I’ll go to the temple to unlock my skill tree after it stops raining. If it stops…

  As I wait in silence, I decide to withdraw my Heart Scroll, even though I’d long since memorized its contents. The scroll itself is about eight inches wide and ten long, with the top and bottom of the thick parchment curling backward. If I want to be precise, the parchment’s length is about fourteen inches with those extra swoops, but since they can’t be straightened I don’t include them.

  As I stare at the golden page, silver words appear in the center.

  Name: Luck Vidadura

  Age: 18

  Race: Aldkin

  Skill: N/A

  Affinity: N/A

  Pessimism be damned, it only takes a couple of hours for the weather to clear up. I climb down the loft’s ladder, careful not to spook the horses and draw attention to myself. I peek through the locked gate to see that the sun was just beginning to rise.

  Okay! Big day ahead of me! Maybe my luck will turn around and I’ll get something amazing… I doubt it though.

  Sometimes, when life’s at its hardest, I resent my parents for my name. That thought process usually ends quickly, though. It’s not their fault that they died. They were amazing, loving parents that I really wish were still here.

  Seeing no sign of life in the open area used for parking wagons and carts, I slowly lift the latch, careful not to make a sound… SCREEEEK! The hinges, most likely unaware of my urgent need for silence, sound an accidental alarm, alerting someone, or more likely everyone inside the inn.

  “What the hell was that?!” A deep, gravelly voice calls from just inside the back door. “Who’s there?! A horse thief? I’ll gut you like the hoglin you are!”

  Not waiting to meet the owner of said voice and test the voracity of his statement, I burst through the gate and into the street, which surprisingly makes less noise than when I was trying to be sneaky about it. I run until I see people making their way down the street in the early morning light, slowing down to join the normal flow of movement before anyone notices my speedy retreat.

  I disappear into the small crowd, blending in with the myriad races. The veritable cornucopia of people make it easy to vanish, though there aren’t many ald or aldkin. That’s okay, though. I’m pretty sure it was a clean getaway.

  As I make my way through the travellers district toward the Temple of Balance, I feel a large hand grab my shoulder, gently pulling me to a stop. I turn, fearing the worst. Instead I’m greeted by the broad smile on my best friend Brick’s face. Well… my only friend.

  As an aldkin, I am an outcast from both alden and human kind. Nobody wants to associate with the ‘enemy.’ Brick, however, is neither alden nor human. He’s bolgen.

  With slightly below average height, his bulk of muscles and broad shoulders nearly make him look like a rounded square, his eyes are burnished gold, with no pupil. He’s dressed in slightly better rags than my own. His redheaded mop of tangled hair near perfectly matches his scraggly tufts of wiry facial hair, brilliantly accenting his burgundy body.

  A smile finds its way onto my face as I see him. Growing up in the orphanage was almost bearable with him there by my side. Of course, I’d barely seen him over the course of the last two years, as the orphanage kicks us out as soon as we turn sixteen. Something about ‘too costly to feed a bunch of no-good free-loading teenagers, go find employment and take care of yourself!’

  “Brick!” My smile remains, as I give my friend a hug. “How have you been? Finally turned sixteen, so they gave you the boot?”

  The hug is warm, contrasting with the frigid spring morning.

  “Luck! Yeah, I just turned sixteen last week.” His voice is deep, but not deep enough to hide his youth. “I knew I’d find ya somewhere ‘round here today. Ya ready to go unlock yer skill tree? I’ll walk with ya the rest of the way!”

  “I’m more worried than excited, you know the Etheri frown upon me… I miss my parents, but they chose a terrible name for me. Luck? Ha! Rotten luck, maybe…” My smile begins to fade as I begin to squeeze the hem of my rags.

  “I’m tellin’ ya! I ‘ave a good feelin’ ‘bout this! Today is the day yer whole life changes fer the better!” Brick’s enthusiasm brings the smile back to my lips, but not my eyes.

  Nothing has ever gone my way, why would the Etheri start now?

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  We make idle conversation as we walk, passing the inns and taverns lining this district’s roads. Brick begins updating me on the happenings inside the orphanage. It’s much the same as it was when I left. New kids arrive, older kids get kicked out, the food still leaves them wanting. It is a drab, dreary, dreadful place.

  After that, while we’re walking through the markets now lining the streetsides, we begin to speculate on what my skill might turn out to be. My heart’s not in the conversation, though.

  “Mayhaps it’ll be a dragonslayer skill!” I hear Brick say this as I tune back in, causing me to shake my head doubtfully.

  “Knowing me, it’ll most likely be farming… or housekeeping. Something lame like that.” I speak in a dull, depressed drawl as I remind myself not to get my hopes up.

  “C’mon, Luck! Ya gotta be at least a bit excited! It’s yer Unlocking Day!”

  “I’m not, but thank you Brick. You’ve got enough excitement for the both of us.”

  I give a wan smile, hoping I’ve not dampened his spirits too much. Glancing down at him, I see that he’s neither disheartened nor dismayed. He’s grinning from ear to ear, clearly thinking about more epic possibilities.

  We reach the Temple of Balance within the next half-hour, after passing through yet another district, this one for shops. We’re so close to the wall separating the nobles from us peasants that I can feel an almost palpable pressure coming from its direction.

  I hesitate before the grandiose steps and marble pillars of my destination. This was probably the only time I’d be in a building so majestic and beautiful, so I wanted to imprint it into my memory. I was definitely not stalling… nope, not at all.

  Brick knows exactly what I’m up to, so he gives me a light shove toward the stairs. Of course, his idea of a light shove has me whirling my arms as I try to regain my balance. My eyes narrow as I turn back to glare at him.

  “Heh… Sorry ‘bout that. But really, I ‘ave a good feelin’ ‘bout this! Go on, I’ll wait for ya right ‘ere.”

  Reluctantly, I turn back to the stairs and take my first tentative steps toward the rest of my life. The marble stairs lead up to double doors twice my already slightly taller than average height. I slowly walk through the immense entrance, admiring the intense, ostentatious architecture.

  The inside is even more magnificent than the exterior. After walking through a short hall, which has its own appeal to it, I enter the grand cathedral. Life-like statues depicting the leaders of each pantheon of the Etheri of each race on Gaio encircle the round amphitheater.

  As I walk through, I begin to internally name the Etheri that I recognize. Baatu, bolgen Maxetheri of gold. Lalilium, the fioran Maxetheri of blooms. Gilon, weaslaxi Maxetheri of wisdom…

  Surprisingly, I even see the alden pantheon represented by Aldur, the alden Maxetheri of war. I guess it makes sense. Hell hath no fury like a deity scorned, as they say, so it’s dangerous to not represent every race. The only Etheri not depicted are those of the ‘evil’ races.

  So much for balance. I’m almost surprised that the ald haven’t yet been labeled as ‘evil.’

  In the center of it all stands a statue taller than any other. A woman that appears to be human stands with her arms reaching out, as if picking up a child. Tears stream down her face, flowing across her outstretched arms, cascading into two identical basins held aloft, representing a scale. Despite the tears, a broad, warm smile graces her beautiful mouth. As I watch, one of the basins fills completely, causing it to tip to the side, dumping much of the water into the pool of the fountain.

  Mother, human Maxetheri of balance.

  “How may I assist you today?”

  I start at the unexpected voice, turning quickly to see a clergyman standing to my left. He’s tall, though shorter than me by a few inches, with a bald-shaven head gleaming in the light. A robe that is clad in every color in equal portions rests loosely over his… well-fed body.

  His nasally words sound hollow, as if he wants nothing to do with an urchin like me. Though a fake smile is plastered on his lips, his eyes seem to bore hatred through my skull.

  “I… um… I’m here to unlock my skill tree, sir.”

  With every word, I shrink back into myself. My eyes wander momentarily, and I finally see that we are nowhere near alone in this huge place. Acolytes dressed in multicolored robes run this way and that.

  The younger acolytes only have a single color, though I see some of them with anywhere from two to five colors… strange…

  Realizing that I’ve been getting distracted, I refocus my attention on the human before me. The man frowns, but when I blink, his face returns to that facsimile of a smile.

  “Right this way.”

  The tension in his tone is all I need in order to tell that this man does not like Mother’s insistence that anybody and everybody can unlock their skill trees at any of her temples, free of charge. If he had his way, he’d most likely put an exorbitant price that would prevent the underprivileged from ever stepping foot in his beloved temple.

  I follow him toward the fountain, just now noticing a chalice on the low wall surrounding the base of the wellspring, placed directly in the center of the near side. It’s beautiful, ranging from red at the top to violet gracing the base.

  Ringing the central area of the part that holds liquid are gemstones representing each of the colors. The man reverently picks up the fancy cup and dips it into the pool at the bottom of the radiant repository of running water, careful not to touch the hallowed liquid. Lifting it high above his head, he begins to pray.

  “Mother! Please grant your blessing for this young man to awaken his innate abilities and face his destiny!”

  His intonation reverberates throughout the grand cathedral, with a volume greater than I thought any person should ever be able to reach. When he lowers the chalice, he hands it to me. Deeply examining its contents, I notice that the liquid inside seems to have golden flecks of light swirling about.

  That prayer seems a bit short, I wonder if it’s that lackluster for everybody that comes in or if it’s reserved for the poorer parishioners.

  “Drink.”

  A hint of derision displays itself with that single word. I do as I’m told, though, and down the contents of the chalice in only a few gulps. It tastes sweet with a hint of bitter, like honeyed tea.

  I’ve not had honeyed tea since my mother and my father… My hands shake ever so slightly.

  Before I have time to finish that thought, I’m surrounded by a mist of swirling dark blue and rich violet, speckled with flecks of gold and silver. The priest’s eyebrows practically shoot right off the top of his head with clearly evident surprise. He quickly schools his facial expression, replacing it with a warm smile and gleaming eyes, though it’s not hard to read his body language.

  “Show me your skill, boy.” His voice has a slight tremble to it. “I’ve never seen that color combination before in all my years.” He is nearly bursting at the seams with unbridled excitement with the last statement.

  “Why? What do those colors mean,” I ask, confused by this sudden change of attitude, wondering what could possibly cause this discriminatory old man to flip so suddenly.

  “The color denotes the affinity of the skill.” The hint of derision has returned to his voice, as if he’s explaining something he feels every man, woman, and child should innately understand.

  Yeesh, this guy changes at the drop of a ring. Besides, that’s not even what I was asking!

  “Each affinity has its own color or mix of colors. Now, show me the skill!” He emphasizes the last five words, leaving no room for doubt that this was not a request.

  I pull my heart scroll from my chest.

  Name: Luck Vidadura

  Age: 18

  Race: Aldkin

  Skill: Box - Summon a box to store things in.

  Affinity: Spacial, ???

  Skill Aether: 0%

  Skill Credits: 0

  Credit Level: Level 0 (0 SC allocated)

  [Skill Tree]!

  [???]

  There it was… my skill… box, and my affinity… spacial.

  I wonder why there are question marks… Spacial affinity sounds powerful, though! Here goes nothing!

  With a thought, I pull on the skill, focusing for an entire minute. Suddenly and silently, a brown box appears on the marble floor before me. It’s small, being about one cubic foot. It has no lid, but four rectangular flaps hang down from the sides. It appears to be made of a stiff paper-wood mix. I’ve never seen anything like it.

  “What a strange… container…”

  The priest, or whatever he is, attempts to pick up the box to examine it further, but his hands pass right through it as if it’s not even there. I try myself, and easily lift it. It’s very light.

  I flip it over and see that the bottom has a line through the middle with some reflective, transparent strip covering it and going up the sides a little. I set it back down and look inside. At the bottom, there is a line going perpendicular to the line on the outside.

  “Hmm.” I say. I look up at the priest only to see his look of distaste back on his face. Though, this time he doesn’t try to hide it.

  “You and your useless skill can leave. Now.” Without a shred of warmth, he dismisses me while gesturing through the door to the outside.