The sarcophagus glowed like the sun. I shut my eyes tightly and looked away, but I could feel my skin being bombarded by an energy and it felt as if I were being pushed so I took several involuntary steps back. Then the glow abruptly faded and when I slowly opened my eyes the sarcophagus was gone! In its place, a set of stone steps led downward into the earth. I could only stare open mouthed as I tried to make sense of several tons of stone vanishing into thin air.

  For only a moment did I consider running to get help from the Chapel. After all, this was an incredible find and surely the Brothers would want to see for themselves. Whomever had built this old tomb had built a secret undercroft below it.

  I doubted there are many others, if any, who would understand a language from another world and be able to solve this puzzle. My only conclusion was that I was not the only one who had been reborn in this world and that they, whomever they had been, had created this tomb.

  I was probably the first person in centuries, if ever, to reveal the secret entrance. Wasn’t it only right that I take the first look at what was hidden below? Especially if it were some long forgotten treasure?

  I took a few steps down and ran into my first issue. No light. I had my mana stone, but its light was limited and barely pierced the darkness below. I reached up to try and remove what looked like a torch set into the wall, but the moment I touched it a soft glow lit the staircase in soft white light. I must have activated some long dormant magic, for several other torches like the one I touched lit up to illuminate the hallway downwards.

  “Manastones,” I breathed. Expensive, highly sought after and far superior to my own in terms of illumination. Even as the son of the Duke, I was fortunate to have the one I did for my personal use. This I knew from my Merchant training. Finding such stones in working order was a fantastic find! My father would be pleased when I brought him a few. If I could get them out of the wall, that is.

  The air had an earthy smell to it, but there was also the scent of something I couldn’t quite place. I tasted metal in my mouth. A flask of tea would have been a welcome relief from it. I followed the line of manastones straight down until I finally reached the most remarkable door I had ever laid eyes upon.

  It was stone carved, with reliefs of angels and demons carved into it with such artistry and precision that one could believe the artist had used magic to create it. The stone angels had a white sheen to them, while the demons were dull and gray. The door itself was cool and I jerked my hand away when the door split open down the middle at my touch, perfectly separating angels and demons upon either side.

  The door opening sounded like a mountain grumbling at being disturbed after so long and the room I entered flared to life with more manastones, ones even larger than the ones along the staircase. I licked dry lips and practiced a speech in my head for my father.

  Father, do other nobles possess such large manastones, save within the Emperor’s palace? I shouldn’t think so and they will surely fetch a good price. I feel it only fair, as I found them, that I be allowed to purchase a Skill stone as you did for Alaric…

  “Two skill stones,” I whispered with a smile. I was jerked from my thoughts when one of the manastones sparked, flared, then died. I frowned. Clearly, I would have to carefully inventory what was salvageable here and what was so much debris.

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Kenric.” I needed to be careful. No spending the silver just yet.

  I entered the room slowly and I was quick to recognize that I was in a Chapel. It was pre-Ord, to be certain. The religious symbolism and architecture gave it away.

  The floor of the chamber was uniform blocks of giant grey stones. The walls were covered in a white plaster, which in turn were painted over with faded scenes and caricatures that, in my opinion, lacked more modern artistic integrity. A far cry from the more precise realism one found in the sculptures and paintings at Saint Ioven’s. Walking further into the room, I could hear the dripping of water. Looking above me, just within the reach of the light, were tree roots stretching across the ceiling.

  Brackish slime oozed liberally down the walls. I could see that over time it had damaged much of the artwork to render much of it as unrecognizable. Greenish mold could be found in patches upon every wall and even upon the ground in a moist, lumpy slurry. I could only guess at how long it had been since any had last come here to pray. Who would want to?

  My Merchant training kicked in as I examined the rest of what I found in the room. I gazed upon statues of the Gods that had been carved over a millennia ago before the coming of the Great Evil and the Ascendance of Ord. As one would therefore expect, there was no statue or altar to Ord. Yet, here was Lady Mir and beside her, features completely covered over with mold, her consort Ara who had been destroyed by demons at the apex of the First Era. There were other statues as well, but most looked to have been damaged at some point.

  The pews were stone benches, cracked or sometimes split and now so much rubble. I had to pick my way carefully over and past their wreckage to avoid tripping as I searched for anything of value beyond the manastones.

  I examined the statues closer and observed that beneath each were simple, if primitive looking, altars of uncut stone. The altars themselves were clean and I made sure to note the ancient symbols of each individual God carved into the stones. It helped me to identify the names of the Gods whose features had been destroyed and could no longer be identified by looking at them from afar. I looked behind each altar and below for anything of value. Nothing. Not even an old prayer book, although vellum would certainly have never survived this moist air. Still, it was disappointing that I had discovered this place, but had nothing to show for it but mold and broken statues.

  Don’t be greedy, Kenric. Doesn’t Father Wolric always say that serving the Light is its own reward? Surely, someone will find value in this place and you will be recognized for being the one who found it.

  I nodded, satisfied with my reasoning. Magic was an important part of Aramyr, that much I had always known. From runes to purify water to advanced rituals that drove wandering monsters away from settled lands, it was an indelible part of the world’s system. Yet, the Gods of Aramyr were even more important, I now realized. They had guided me here. Me. I felt convinced the Gods watched over me and held expectations. I simply didn’t know what those were yet.

  I had always been ambivalent about the religions of this world, to be clear. My Mother, however, was an Ordite to the bone and so I naturally knew more about the God who had once been a mortal man a great deal. Aramyr had several Gods and it might depend upon what country you were in or what your personal beliefs about your own place in the world were that decided which way you swayed. I had always been focused upon how to survive in my second life through the acquisition of wealth. It seemed fate had more in store for me and it was both terrifying and exciting.

  I gazed at each of the altars again. Perhaps there was something here for me I was meant to find? I would do a I felt a monk would do in this situation and see where it took me. I placed myself near the center of the room and knelt before the altars. I then took a deep breath, closed my eyes and prayed.

  “Great Gods of Aramyr,” I began. “It is senseless to try and lie to beings who can weigh the value of souls and know the answers to the mysteries of the Universe. You will already know this is my second life and that I, my soul that is, comes from another world.” I took another breath. It felt good to pray. Natural. I felt some of my uncertainty drain away.

  “I only wish to say that I feel I must have found this place for a reason and if that allows me to know your purpose for bringing me here…and of course if it helps my family and others…” I opened my eyes. In that split second, I came to a decision, “…then I would do your will and do all that I can to not disappoint your faith in me. Sanctus. Thank you.”

  I felt a bit silly after saying the ‘thank you,’ but I now truly believed it was the Gods who had brought me here. Could it hurt to be polite? I remained there on my knees before I started to feel like perhaps the mold on the floor might start to infect my lungs with rot when several bursts of light shot from each of the altars to impact with my chest, back and sides. I fell backwards and landed flat upon my back. I rolled over with a groan and pushed myself back up to my knees.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Welcome Supplicant!

  You have activated the Purgos Initiative-Alpha. It has been 796 cycles since this program was last used. Administrative Support is currently unavailable and will not be back online for [Currently Unavailable].

  “A Soul Window,” I breathed in awe. I was looking at something only a Class holder could see!

  I tore my gaze from the notification and stared at the ribbons of light that now stretched from me to each of the altars. There was no sensation from them, good or bad. I tried waving my hands in and out of the one that ran from my right shoulder to the altar of Wik, but my hand passed through without encountering any resistance at all.

  “What is this? What is happening?” The ribbons flickered and undulated like glow worms. As they seemed harmless, I calmed down and read further what the Soul Window notification stated.

  The Purgos Initiative, along with other training programs located throughout the Seeded Lands, will prepare all Supplicants for duties and responsibilities up to and ending with Level 4 Administrator. As this training is specifically linked to the usability and proper handling of the Interface programs and their linked Intelligences, you will be graded mostly through Wisdom, Intelligence, Perception and Charismatic actions and/or decisions. Points will also be awarded for Strength, Constitution and Dexterity actions, if any. (Please locate Purgos Initiative-Delta for further training of these additional Attributes)

  “Purgos? Does this refer to the Purgatorium Aesthetics?” Yet, what could this underground Chapel have to do with some order of long ago mystics who hadn’t been seen since the Ascendancy? I knew little about them so pushed those questions aside for now.

  I read through the rest of the notification in disbelief. I naturally recognized what it meant by Attributes, but what did it mean that I would be ‘graded’ for them? Were the Gods looking to test me? I felt the sweat running down my back as I regained my feet. I felt grossly unprepared to prove myself to the Gods. What would be the penalty for failure? I felt my growing anxiety begin to get the better of me.

  “Great Gods of Aramyr, I beseech you!”

  WARNING! Anomaly detected! Sector PI-A414 compromised! Running scan…Training Initiative unavailable ! Running countermeasures…Scan for available Dungeon Programs…Scanning Supplicant…

  For a moment the ribbons of light pulsed as one and it was as if I were beingprobed with a hundred tiny needles. Not painful, but I was jolted by the energy and cried out in surprise.

  Supplicant granted [FULL] access to countermeasures by A42DgZ8YX…ERROR…Standby…Force Connection to Archival Sector A1A247m…Connection Successful.

  “What is an archival sector? Ord’s Mercy, I don’t understand any of this!” The ribbons of light pulsed once more and this time the invisible needles stabbed harder forcing me to arch my back in pain.

  The ribbons of light continued to grow brighter and brighter. A numbness began to spread throughout my body. It was a relief from the pain, but it was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Energy suffused my body and it was both glorious and horrifying all at once. New soul window notifications lit up before me as I felt my feet lifted off the floor. The glowing, undulating ribbons grew thicker and more powerful before they abruptly stopped and I dropped to my knees.

  These pants are definitely ruined now. I groaned as I tried to get my breathing under control. The lights from the altars had vanished, but thankfully the manastones still functioned. I pushed myself up onto my feet. I felt…good? I turned my attention to the newest open soul windows and my jaw dropped.

  MIR has granted you the [Minor Heal] spell!

  TEK has granted you the [Minor Cube of Confusion] spell!

  QAS has granted you the [Lesser Barrier of Light] spell!

  HUL has granted you the [Caretaker’s Guidance] spell!

  SUL has granted you the [Vow of Denial] spell!

  WIK has granted you the [Lesser Shadow Leech] spell!

  GOR has granted you the [Command Minor Beast] spell!

  CEL has granted you the [Minor Mana Tap] spell!

  EUI has granted you the [Innervation] spell!

  “Gods of Aramyr, is this real?” I whispered, not daring to believe what I was seeing written upon the floating window before me. I examined each notification twice, then the final soul window read ACCESS STATUS YES/NO which I answered immediately with the affirmative.

  Name: Kenric Ordheim

  Class: None

  Level: nil

  Title: 4th Son of the Earl of Ordheim, Squire of Eastcheap Manor

  Professions: Scribing-9, Treasurer-7, Alchemy-2

  Faction: TBD

  Divine Domains: TBD

  Attributes

  Strength: 5

  Dexterity: 5

  Constitution: 4

  Intelligence: 8

  Wisdom: 7

  Perception: 5

  Charisma: 6

  Skills:

  None

  Spells:

  Minor Heal

  Minor Cube of Confusion

  Lesser Barrier of Light

  Caretaker’s Guidance

  Vow of Denial

  Lesser Shadow Leech

  Command Minor Beast

  Minor Mana Tap

  Innervation

  Equipped:

  Weapon: None

  Body: Noble’s Gray Attire

  Legs: Noble’s Leggings

  Feet: Noble’s Shoes

  Back: Noble’s Cloak-Hooded

  “I can see my Status! I have Magic.” I must have stood there slack jawed for at least a full minute. I had been granted Divine magic not from one, but several of the Gods of Light, the Gods of the Shadow Pantheon and one of the Elementals!

  “Incredible,” I breathed. Then I froze as I made another realization. There was nothing from Ord. Was it because Ord did not have an altar here? Yes, that must have been it. As I had already noted, this was a pre-Ord structure . “What am I thinking? Great Ord aside, I have never read of an instance where one was granted spells from more than one God? What will the monks think of this? The Gods are truly watching me.” That was a sobering thought and now reality was catching up as well. When one became a Priest, it was one God and one alone that a Priest served. I was no Priest, so then what did that make me?

  It stood to reason that all of this was part of a training for Priests that likely dated back centuries and was no longer in use. I would either succeed or fail and based upon how I did then one or more of the Gods would extend me a Class choice. It was an interesting way of doing things. I wonder why it had gone out of style? I assumed that once I completed the training, the other spells from the Gods I did not choose would be taken away. The trade off for that would be that I would finally have an Inventory space.

  When one received a Class, an extra-dimensional space of modest size was one of the perks. In this way, Alaric could summon a sword or lance into his hand in an instant. He had shown it off to the rest incessantly until Sergeant Tofford, the Captain of the Duke’s Guard, told him to stop teasing us. It was the one thing he had that I didn’t I truly envied.

  Then I could always have an extra set of clothes handy. I feel disgusting right now.

  I sighed and shook out my cloak, letting mold and muck fly. A large chunk of muck landed on the altar to Mir and I cursed under my breath as I hurried over to wipe it off.

  “Forgive me, Lady. I will learn to temper my rash actions by having a bit more foresight moving forward.” I finished wiping off the muck with the hem of my cloak and looked above the altars at the broken statues of Mir and Ara. It was telling that there was no altar to Ara, as that meant this Chapel had been built after his destruction, but I noticed that the statues had been carved in such a way as to make it appear the two Gods were reaching out to one another, yet not quite touching. My Merchant training kicked in.

  “I’m guessing you were carved sometime near the beginning of the Second Age? They stopped including images of Ara with Mir around the time of the First Crusade, if I remember correctly. I can’t recall the reason, however.” I tapped a finger on my chin thoughtfully.

  Ara, God of Hope and Renewal, had been destroyed in a cataclysmic battle between the Heavens and Hells. Mir, so overcome with grief over her consort's destruction under the cursed blades of demon kind, had wept tears myths claimed lasted a full year. The power of those tears helped to heal the shattered world and returned life even to demon corrupted landscapes. However, even to this day in the far North where Ara had fallen, it was still a wasted and barren landscape. The Land of the Dead it was called for the endless legions of wraiths and walking corpses that populated that forlorn place. Ancient dead from the armies that had fought there during the First Age. Sages wondered if the Shadowmurk itself was just another byproduct of the demonic corruption of long ago. Whether it was or not, Ara was gone, but Mir continued to spread her healing across Aramyr through her servants. Could he consider himself one of those servants now as well? Is that what I wanted?

  I really need to talk to someone about what this means! I wonder what father will say about this? Will he be disappointed if I don’t take the Merchant class? I respect the Gods, but is a life of Faith something I want? I won’t deny I’ve enjoyed my time with the Novices and I have nothing but respect for Father Wolric.

  A stone of clairvoyance leads one to where they need to go. Was what I always wanted, deep down, was to become a Priest? I felt that the Gods were saying this was why I had been brought to this world, or it was at least one of the reasons. I was feeling ever more certain of my reasoning the more I thought it out.

  “What is that?” I leaned forward to take a closer look at something strange in the space between Ara and Mir’s open palms. There was a nearly invisible distortion of space that seemed to warp reality in the small area between the stone hands. Peering closer, it looked as if a slowly rotating spiral of colorless energy was warping the small space. Were the statues endowed with some magic as the altars had been? Drawing closer, I felt the mana stir within me. I felt a deep yearning, a desire to understand what I was seeing. I reached out a finger to touch the spiral energy.

  I felt a tug then a much stronger pull gripped first my finger, then my hand and then my entire arm. I was being pulled into the spiral distortion itself! I tried yanking my hand back, but I was held fast. Leaning back, my arm felt as if it were being ripped from its socket and I had no time to scream as I was sucked into a spiraling vortex of light that seemed to go on forever. Falling forward or was it downward? I felt the air sucked from my lungs and I could no longer breathe. Time lost all meaning, the vortex swirled like rainwater through a drain, and I was swallowed by an endless darkness.