Dawn broke over Valtaros with unusual clarity, as if even the weather was showing off for the special day. Elias woke to the sound of distant bells, their deep tones rolling through the air. Before he could fully gather his thoughts, the acolytes appeared in his doorway, their faces more serious than ever.
"It''s time," said the older one, her voice softer than usual. "You''ll walk the Path to the Cathedral now."
The white robes they''d given him last night had been fancied up overnight. Someone had added elaborate stitching to the sleeves and collar, copying the patterns painted on his skin. The crystal hanging at his throat pulsed in time with his heartbeat, warm against his skin.
In the courtyard, the other chosen ones huddled in their matching outfits. The ritual paints made them all look otherworldly in the morning light, though you could still tell where they came from by how they stood – Maris stiff as a board despite being clearly terrified, Keldric at military attention, Tavin taking everything in like he was memorizing it for an exam later.
Lyara caught his eye for just a moment as they were being arranged in formation. Her face gave away nothing about their secret talk last night. If anything, she looked calmer than the others, like she was heading someplace she''d always meant to go.
The High Priestess Seraphina swept in wearing the most elaborate outfit yet. Her robes shimmered with every step, making her seem like she was constantly in motion. Her headdress looked like an artistic version of the marks they all carried, arranged in circles that drew your eye toward a dark center.
"Today," she called out, her voice easily reaching every corner of the courtyard, "twelve chosen by the Maw walk among the people of Valtaros. Watch them pass with reverence, for they carry humanity''s hope against the darkness."
The huge gates swung open to reveal streets already packed with people, despite the early hour. Church acolytes led the way, walking in perfect step while swinging silver burners that released sweet-smelling smoke. Behind them came musicians playing instruments Elias had never seen before – crystal flutes that made sounds that weren''t quite comfortable to hear, drums covered with something that sparkled in the light.
The High Priestess followed, her presence drawing whispered prayers from the crowd. The twelve chosen ones walked behind her, arranged in a pattern that Elias realized was a living version of the marks they all carried – a physical copy of the Maw''s selection mark.
As they made their way through the Sanctum District, Elias watched the gathered people with careful interest. The rich and powerful looked down from fancy balconies, their faces showing a mix of religious awe and poorly hidden relief that they weren''t the ones walking to possible death. Church officials stood at attention outside temples, heads bowed as they passed.
What struck him most were the people from other districts, allowed into the fancy Sanctum District just for today. Market merchants watched with calculating eyes, probably already figuring out how to profit from the chosen ones'' families. Farm workers stared open-mouthed at buildings they''d only heard about. Even slum dwellers had been let in, though they were kept in special areas, their thin faces showing a mix of wonder and bitterness.
They made their way through spotless streets toward the heart of the district, where the Grand Cathedral loomed over everything else. Sentinels lined the route with stern faces, making sure everyone showed proper respect, no matter if they were rich merchants or slum dwellers. The crowd''s whispers and prayers blended with the steady beat of drums and the ringing of silver bells, creating a sound unlike anything Elias had ever heard.
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"They''re watching us like animals heading to slaughter," muttered the noble youth walking beside Elias, keeping his voice low enough that the acolytes couldn''t hear.
"Or saviors on their way to glory," countered the farm girl on Elias''s other side, sounding like she actually believed it despite the fear in her eyes.
Elias kept quiet, watching everything around him instead. In the crowd, he spotted faces that didn''t match their neighbors – calculating rather than reverent, studying the chosen ones with professional interest instead of religious awe. Church security, probably, or maybe representatives from other groups keeping tabs on the selection process.
As they went deeper into the Sanctum District, the buildings got older and more impressive. These structures dated from before the Fall, made of gleaming white stone and intricate metalwork that had somehow survived when other cities crumbled to dust. Gardens flourished between buildings, showing off plants from before corruption tainted most of the natural world.
"The sacred heart of Valtaros approaches," announced a nearby acolyte. "The place where the Maw first appeared to save humanity from corruption."
The Grand Cathedral appeared suddenly as they rounded a final corner – a structure so massive and impossible that Elias''s mind struggled to take it all in at once. White stone spires reached toward the sky, connected by arches that seemed to float without support. Stained glass windows bigger than entire slum buildings showed scenes from Church history, their colors transformed by the morning sun into pools of light that spilled across the massive plaza.
Most striking was the Cathedral''s central dome, made from a material that swallowed light instead of reflecting it – a perfect circle of darkness against the white stone, looking just like the Maw as Church doctrine described it. According to sacred texts, the physical gateway to the Maw''s embrace lay directly beneath this dome.
The procession stopped at the Cathedral''s massive doors, which remained closed. The thousands who had followed their path now filled the plaza behind them, a sea of expectant faces. The High Priestess turned to address them, raising her arms in a gesture that immediately silenced the crowd.
"People of Valtaros," she called out, her voice somehow reaching even the farthest corners of the crowded plaza, "behold the twelve chosen by divine will. From all districts, all walks of life, they have been marked for transformation. Through the Maw''s trials, they will become our champions against corruption—if they prove worthy."
The crowd responded with a sound somewhere between a prayer and a moan, acknowledging what nobody was saying out loud – that not everyone who entered the Maw would come back. The chosen ones stayed still as they''d been instructed, though Elias noticed the little signs of what they were really feeling: Maris''s eyes darting toward where her father stood among the merchant elite, Keldric''s jaw clenched like he was preparing for a fight, Tavin''s gaze fixed on the Cathedral''s architecture as if he was trying to memorize every detail.
Only Lyara seemed perfectly composed, her eyes focused on the darkness of the central dome with something close to eagerness. Whatever had made her volunteer for the trials clearly kept her steady even now.
As the prayers finished, the High Priestess gestured toward the Cathedral doors. They swung inward without a sound despite their massive size, revealing an interior filled with ritual darkness. Thousands of candles created islands of light throughout the vast space, highlighting religious artwork and the gathered Church leaders waiting for them inside.
"The final preparation begins," the High Priestess told the chosen ones, her voice now just for them. "What waits beyond those doors is the culmination of a thousand years of faith and purpose. Enter with courage, for the Maw awaits its chosen."
The cathedral bells rang twelve deep notes as the sun reached its highest point, marking the appointed hour. The procession started moving again, the chosen ones following the High Priestess into the sacred darkness, leaving the sunlight and watching crowd behind.
As they passed through the massive doorway, Elias felt the medallion against his chest grow suddenly warm, as if responding to their closeness to the Maw''s gateway. Lyara''s warning echoed in his mind—find her quickly once the trials began, choose understanding over power, preservation over destruction.
The cathedral doors closed behind them with a sound like the end of something, sealing them inside the ancient building where humanity and the divine had first made their agreement against corruption. For better or worse, the twelve chosen ones had reached the threshold of their transformation.