I, Cidrakas Lasalis, stood there, my heart pounding, shoulder to shoulder with seventeen other teenagers on the cusp of a monumental moment in our lives. We were gathered in the Grand Cathedral of Halcis, the goddess of Balance, a sanctuary that felt alive with the weight of history. Today was not just any day; it was our awakening, a rite of passage into adulthood, marking the beginning of our journeys. I felt out of place among the others, strangers despite our shared birthdays. We were all turning sixteen on this same fateful day, but in the vastness of the capital city of the kingdom of Venturius, with its sprawling population of over half a million, our collective milestone felt almost trivial.

  Until now, I'd never set foot inside the Grand Cathedral, even though I'd lived in the capital of Novaluna my entire life. As I crossed the threshold, I was enveloped by a quiet atmosphere that made the moment profound. The cathedral soared above me, its arched dome reaching over thirty meters high, a high canopy adorned with intricate designs. Marble statues encircled the back of the shrine, each one carved from pure white marble with glinting gold accents, depicting legendary heroes who had once fought for peace and stability amidst times of chaos and despair. At the heart of the space stood the towering statue of Halcis herself. Her arms extended, palms upturned, cradling her golden scales and dagger—symbols of balance and culling. A huge maroon tapestry cascaded from her middle, embroidered with shimmering gold threads representing her scales, almost like a skirt extending all the way to the floor.

  Trying to ignore the grandeur around me, my focus narrowed to the center of the stage, where a glimmering object awaited—the skill stone. My heart raced; this was the catalyst for my journey into adulthood. Each major temple housed such a stone, known to grant mortals their first skill and grant their personal status. The stories I had heard suggested skill shards were available to the bold, gained through dedication, adventure, and perhaps a bit of luck in confronting ferocious creatures. Yet, there lingered a touch of doubt in my mind. But today, I silenced that thought; the odds were on my side, and I refused to dwell on the negative. Surely, I wouldn't be one of the few doomed to receive the cursed skill.

  “Come forth,” beckoned the priest, his voice resonating with authority as I was lost in thought. He was an older man, his slight stoop a testament to years spent in servitude, his silver hair contrasting beautifully with the rich robes of maroon and gold he wore. As the girl in front of me stepped forward, I was close enough to see the intricate details of the stone, previously obscured by distance. A pinkish-gold crystal, approximately 1.2 meters tall, rested delicately upon a dais that was at least two meters in diameter. Its hexagonal spike, a perfect thirty centimeters in diameter, jutted upward with two smaller spikes flanking it, just right for hands to grasp firmly.

  As she approached the stone, the priest’s gentle voice filled the air once more, “Begin your journey,” he said, his smile warm and inviting. I held my breath. The girl reached for the stone, fingers trembling in anticipation. The moment her hands made contact, a warm pulse of light erupted from within the crystal, illuminating the cathedral and bathing her in its glow. For an instant, her eyes sparkled before the light subsided. She stepped back, beaming with joy.

  “Sewing” she squealed, the excitement radiating from her, a flare of excitement in the otherwise solemn space. The novitiate priests quickly ushered her away to celebrate with her family, and my pulse raced in anticipation. The priest's voice called out again, “Come forth,” and I felt the excitement thrum in my chest as I moved closer to my fate.

  With nervous energy vibrating within me, I stepped onto the dais, feeling the weight of the moment in the air. "Begin your journey," the priest intoned once more, his kind expression encouraging me onward. I grasped the stone's smaller spikes eagerly, anticipation brimming over. Light surged from the stone and coursed through me like wildfire, filling every fiber of my being. Then came the announcement that would haunt my dreams for years to come: Skill Received- Advancement.

  It felt like a rock fell into the pit of my stomach as the realization struck me, cold and merciless. I whispered, “Oh no,” my body trembling as anger took me, tears prickling at my eyes, fueled by a sense of betrayal and despair.

  “Is it…?” the priest asked, his voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

  “Advancement,” I replied, my voice breaking.

  The priest rushed to steady me, his hands resting firmly on my shoulders. “It’s okay. Many are able to lead fulfilling lives with this skill.” His tone was filled with practiced reassurance, a gentle suggestion that my fate was not entirely sealed. He had witnessed this tragic occurrence before, and I could see the understanding in his eyes.

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  I glanced toward the pews where my parents sat among the families, their faces an unsettling mix of emotions. My father wore a mask of disgust while my mother had dissolved in tears, leaning against his shoulder as if she could somehow breach his indifference.

  The priest gestured for them to follow but quickly guided me to a secluded alcove at the side of the cathedral, a welcome reprieve from the prying eyes and potential judgment. “We can help you if you'll let us,” he said sincerely. “I know this isn't what you wanted, but it's not the end of the world.”

  “I’d really like to be alone for a minute if you don’t mind,” I replied, the numbness creeping in.

  “Of course. I’ll speak to your parents.” As he walked away, I felt the intense urge to scream, to rage against the unfairness of it all. My parents had remained seated, focused on their own emotions, completely neglecting their only child. I had expected nothing more from them. My father was a shameless womanizer who broke my mother’s heart time and time again, pretending to be a respectable husband, while my mother lived in a disillusioned state, erasing every bitter memory like pages from a book.

  In theory, Advancement was a remarkable skill, one destined to catapult its wielder into a life brimming with opportunity and acclaim. But, oh, the restrictions! They were said to have been placed by Halcis herself.

  The full description of the skill read: Skill-Advancement allows the user to increase a skill by one level over 24 hours. Time to increase to the next level doubles. RESTRICTION: User cannot use skill stones or skill shards.

  It was a paradox—an incredible boon that had the ability to help anyone climb to greatness, yet it granted me no access to further skills, locking me out of the full spectrum of possibilities that others might embrace. I began to laugh, the sound escaping me in an unhinged giggle.

  "The ultimate skill, if only I could actually use it on something other than itself! HAHAHA!" My laughter echoed hollowly in the alcove, a desperate release of the pent-up energy that had overflowed, only to crash upon the jagged rocks of reality.

  For five long minutes, I fluctuated between tears of frustration and fits of manic laughter, each emotion battling for dominance within me. Time seemed to distort, elongating the moments into an eternity as I grappled with my newly ruined fate. Just when I felt I might spiral completely out of control, the priest returned, breaking the oppressive atmosphere.

  “Son, you will be fine. I know from experience,” he said, a glimmer of sincerity in his eyes, coupled with a wan smile that spoke of understanding.

  "You got the cursed skill too?" I asked, my voice soft, the emotional exhaustion evident in my tone.

  “I did, though it's not cursed. It is locked. Have you never heard the story of this skill from the church?”

  “My parents aren’t very religious,” I responded, a dry chuckle escaping my lips, revealing a sad truth of my upbringing.

  “I thought as much after speaking with them. By the way, it seems my manners have failed me utterly. My name is Thedroe. Let me tell you the story of the locked skill, if you'll hear it.”

  I nodded, the anticipation of the story drawing me in, clinging to the hope that it might shed some light on my situation. “When the gods were crafting the world,” he began, “they created skill stones and the myriad skills contained within them. Each stone was forged with care, and to ensure fairness, they entrusted that responsibility to Halcis. While all the gods had a hand in shaping skills, it was Halcis who governed balance, ensuring that no skill was too overwhelmingly powerful.”

  A frown tugged at my mouth. “But that makes this skill nonsensical—it feels too strong on its own.”

  “Exactly,” Thedroe nodded, continuing in a somber tone. “Halcis demanded that the god responsible for this particular skill revise it so that it wouldn’t elevate mortals to demigods overnight. Any guesses as to who that god was?”

  “Just one,” I said, the realization crashing down upon me.

  “That’s right. Rekf, god of chaos. Rekf insisted that the skill remain unchanged, regardless of Halcis’s warnings. When she proposed locking it instead, he responded with indifference, claiming, ‘Fine by me. I just wanted to make something fun.’”

  As the gravity of the situation seeped in, I felt the remnants of hope begin to dissipate. Halcis had locked the skill to prevent misuse, but in doing so, she had also minimized its odds of being bestowed. It went to only one out of about every 100,000 people.

  “Thus, those who receive it are offered a place among the Priests of Balance who host awakenings,” Thedroe continued solemnly. “To ensure that they still have a role to fulfill.”

  “I really never saw myself becoming a priest, no offense,” I murmured, the bleakness of my situation stripping away my pretense.

  “Ha! None taken. Do you think I wanted to be a priest growing up? Hells no! Like most boys, I wanted the Swordsmanship skill. But we must each learn to play the hand we've been dealt. Your parents have already left. Why not spend the night in the novitiate's quarters and rest? A new dawn often brings fresh perspectives, eh?”

  I blew out a long breath, letting it carry away some of the anxiety and worry of the day. “That actually sounds nice. Thanks,” I replied, feeling a flicker of relief.

  “Right this way,” he said, guiding me as we began to walk, the echoes of laughter and tears melding together in the hallowed halls of the Grand Cathedral, leaving a mark forever etched into my heart.