As Jerome and his friends arrived at the City Square, the sun was already high in the sky, casting a warm glow across the open space. The Square was massive, with the buildings surrounding it towering high above them.
In contrast to the bleakness of the slums, the Square was a feast for the senses. Fruit trees lined the edges of the Square, bursting with vibrant colors and sweet scents. The ground beneath their feet was tiled with intricately designed jade-like stones, gleaming in the sunlight, and adding to the picturesque atmosphere of the Square.
The children couldn’t help but feel in awe of the grandeur of it all. Despite being the first ones to arrive, they could sense the excitement building within them, knowing that they were about to embark on an incredible journey toward their dreams.
“I call dibs on the biggest tree over there!” Dreamer screamed and ran forward. The fruits on the trees looked so delicious, he just had to get one.
Jerome tried to stop him but he was already a dozen paces away. And not just him, the rest of his friends had also taken off. You’ve got to be kidding me! he panicked. If they were caught picking the fruits from the trees, a good whipping may end up being the least of their worries.
They could get away with mischief in the slums since it was nigh a lawless place, but the pretty side of the city was different. Platforms of various sizes were strategically placed around the square, which Jerome surmised were for disseminating information to the city’s populace. He quickly jumped on one of those platforms and tackled Whisper to the ground.
“Stop!” he screamed.
The rest of his friends looked back, wondering what happened.
“We may be punished for touching the trees!” Jerome shouted loudly.
They backed up away from the trees. Jerome released Whisper who fell to the floor heaving. He looked up admiring the backdrop of towering peaks ahead of him. Farryn, located at the heart of Vorthe, was built at the base of a vast mountain range that spanned hundreds of thousands of miles, giving the city a magnificent backdrop of towering peaks.
“We should settle down and meditate,” Jerome said, “We don’t know who’s watching over this place.” They looked around but found no one.
“No one’s watching, Jerome,” Whisper said, eyeing the succulent fruits on the tree ahead of him.
“You may not see them, Whisper,” Jerome replied. He held his hand to his mouth, lowered his voice, and said, “doesn’t mean they’re not there. They may be watching us even now. Are you willing to take that bet?” Whisper hesitated and looked around again.
“Just one bite and I’ll be satisfied,” Doti said and his stomach rumbled loudly.
Jerome sighed at that. None of them had eaten this morning. They were all feeling hungry and the fruits on the trees were very tempting — even to him. Jerome was used to bearing the pain of hunger, though. They all were. But as kids, their self-restraint when they see food was weaker than his — because he was an adult in a child’s body. He had mastered his body with his more developed mind.
They had been eating fine for the last few days now, but old habits were hard to break. They were used to eating when they saw food because they didn’t know when they’d get another.
“And what happens when a guard comes at us for plucking fruits from the tree, or even just climbing it?” Jerome asked. He felt the need to remind them again that this was not the slums where they could just run away. Here they could be punished severely.
“We can’t just run away then, you know? And where would we even run to?” He gestured around at the open field. “They’d catch us before we get even five steps away. We could lose our hands for it, you know?”
Every one of them shivered in fear at the reminder.
“Don’t worry,” Jerome said, concerned. “After today, you won’t feel hungry like you do again.”
“I hope so,” Doti grumbled.
“Me too,” Dreamer said.
“Jerome, what you said to Moss today…” Whisper said, not knowing how to continue.
“He deserved it,” Jerome said. “He’s too petty. He thinks because he’s a sacred artist and we aren’t yet, he can do as he pleases or say whatever he likes to us.” Maybe that was how sacred artists acted toward non-sacred artists in general. It made sense. Ms. Tara and Old Wen were just exceptions.
Doti chuckled. “Serves him right. I never liked him. He’s always been bad to me.”
“Hmm. I wouldn’t say Moss is a bad man. He just takes pleasure in ‘lording’ over weaker people.”
“Because he’s a sacred artist? What’s it gonna be like, Jerome? Becoming a sacred artist?” Dreamer said with a distant look on his face. Everyone became expectant and filled with hope all of a sudden.
And just like that, he had taken their attention away from food. Jerome sighed in relief and gave himself a thumbs up internally. He thought Dreamer had gotten bolder during the past few days. Maybe it was the fact that they ate more. First, he had spoken his mind against him and now he was starting discussions. Jerome was proud of him.
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“First, you won’t be as hungry as you used to, so you won’t need to eat every time,” he answered.
“We’ll be able to fight the blind man whenever he comes next time too,” Whisper added with a chuckle. “How do we even use essence?”
Jerome smiled. Good and consistent food was the oil that kept a child inspired it seemed — and maybe bold too. “You have to sense it — first with your imagination and then with your feelings. Don’t look outside your body, look inwards and you’ll find it resonates with something within you.”
“Resonates?” Doti asked, the word sounding strange to him.
“You’ll feel it,” Jerome clarified. “According to Rihal, some people even say they could taste it and smell it — not everybody, just some people. But Rihal said he never experienced it like that himself.”
“Taste it?” Dreamer asked. “And what did they say it tasted like?”
“Some said iron and rust. Some said it smelled like a nice fragrance. Some said it smelled like the forest or a particular type of flower. One even said it smelled like his neighbor’s bakery.”
The kids burst into laughter at that.
“Some said it smelled like rain.”
“Rain?” Whistle said. “How does one smell the rain?”
Jerome shrugged but continued. “Some said it ‘felt’ — as in instead of smelling it, they felt it. And it felt like emotions…or maybe mirrored their emotions. Rihal didn’t explain that part,” Jerome said and fell into silence as he thought about it. His friends were also engaged in their thoughts so they didn’t disturb him.
Some of the things Rihal had said were investigated from what people felt during Mehn Agrh’ur were disturbing. Some felt resigned — as though they wouldn’t become sacred artists and had resigned themselves to it. He didn’t understand how essence could feel like resignation but he had nothing to compare it to since he had never sensed essence himself. He was also not about to discourage his friends with information like that. Rihal also said the survey was taken over many years and from thousands of participants. However, less than a tenth of the participants were in the category of those who smelled, tasted, and felt essence.
“We should meditate to prepare ourselves,” Jerome said after a while. “Remember, look inward when the time comes.”
They still gaped at the fruit trees but they knew Jerome was right. He had saved them a lot of times from making wrong decisions. And he was the leader of their gang. They all listened to him because he was able to get things done and get results. They grumbled as they settled on the ground a few dozen steps away from the southeast entrance, crossing their legs and closing their eyes. As they breathed deeply, the sounds of the city faded away, replaced by the soft rustling of the trees and the distant hum of voices.
For Doti, Dreamer, and Whistle, time passed sluggishly, their bodies feeling restless and impatient. But Jerome was the picture of tranquility, his posture steady and his mind clear as a cloudless sky. After the time it took to boil a cup of water, other adolescents began to trickle in until the square was brimming with kids from all walks of life.
The wealthy youths occupied small, exquisitely carved thrones, tended to by their retinue of serfs who offered them fruits filled with world essence, displayed on golden platters. Some of them luxuriated under parasols made of expensive materials, while others were gently fanned by elaborately decorated hand fans.
These privileged kids looked down upon the rest of the attendees with disdain. Meanwhile, there were those from middle and lower-class families who were less ostentatious in their attire, so one could easily spot them amidst the throngs by the quality of their clothes and the non-existent attendants around them.
Jerome was keenly aware of the danger that lurked in being too conspicuous in the midst of the crowd of adolescents from different backgrounds. “I wonder why these scions of noble clans can’t have a private initiation for themselves.”
“Huh. What do you mean, Jerome?” Whisper asked.
“Is it too expensive?” Dreamer asked.
“I don’t know,” Jerome replied. “Maybe it’s a rule.”
“A rule?” Doti asked. “You mean like a law?”
Jerome shook his head to discard that line of thought. “I don’t think so. Rules won’t stop the powerful in Vorthe. There must be other reasons but I don’t know enough about the kingdom to draw a conclusion,” he muttered absently.
His friends continued to listen, not bothering to interrupt his musings.
“It’s best to leave it be,” Jerome said. “No need to ponder over the answers to such questions. No matter how many guesses we make, we will never get it.”
“Not our pot of tea, correct?” Dreamer said with a smile.
The rest of them chuckled.
“But we need to be careful,” Jerome said. “I can see that these golden-necked pricks don’t like the fact that they are having an initiation amongst those of the lowest wrung of society. Someone might get hurt or killed if we’re not careful. And I know for sure who it’s NOT going to be. So, best to avoid trouble as much as possible. Let’s move away from here.”
They quickly moved toward the edge of the City Square, away from the center. More kids were trooping in and the place that was once so big and empty was now full to the brim with children. Some were even starting to eye them with malice. Jerome hurried his friends along.
“The last thing we need is to attract the attention of these rich kids,” Jerome said. “Go left. Toward the edge of that building.”
The building was at the very edge of the South entrance of the Square. They huddled together when they got there and this helped them to not stand out in the crowd.
“I like their robes,” Dotti said with a smile, and the rest of them nodded in acknowledgment, but they looked down at their own robes and couldn’t help but sigh in discouragement.
As time trickled by, the bustling City Square was overtaken by an eerie atmosphere, like an unseen presence spread out slowly through the crowd. Suddenly, countless black glass-like cubes, resembling some sort of dark magic, materialized all around, hanging effortlessly a few feet above the ground.
The noise rose again as gasps sounded all around them. The crowd began to get excited. Slowly, the cubes began to rotate, spinning gracefully in the air like an ominous dance. The cacophony of voices in the square died down to a murmur, and a thunderous voice boomed across the Square.
“For ages untold, our forefathers have bestowed upon us the sacred knowledge of sensing the essence, passed down from generation to generation.” The power of the voice echoed through the very souls of those gathered there.
“And with each passing era, it has been the great men and women who have risen to wield this power, shaping the very fate of our kingdom. Now, as the hour of destiny approaches, it falls upon you to cast off the shackles of mortality and rise up to claim your rightful place as champions of Vorthe!
“Let Mhen Agrh'ur begin!”
The moment they were all waiting for had finally come!