Micah Silver ran home from the library the minute the Sun dipped below the horizon. Keeper Ansom startled from his slumber rocked back in his chair at the library’s front desk, just in time to take in Micah’s rapidly receding. The Keeper squinted his rheumy eyes against the brilliant orange and gold hues of the outside world before turning his head back to the magelight of his musty library. The old man chuckled fondly and stood up, his bones creaking in protest against their years of disuse, as he made his rounds of the library before closing up for the day.

As for Micah, he barely even noticed Ansom as he raced home. Today was the day of his sixteenth birthday. Tomorrow he would awaken blessed, imbued with a unique power from one of Karell’s sixteen deities. He would have access to his status screen and the ability to gain a class, levels and experience. More importantly, he would be an adult. Finally allowed to become an adventurer or learn a trade.

He didn’t let himself think of the possibility that he could end up as one of the forgotten. Theoretically, it was an even chance, almost half of those born on Karell simply didn’t awaken to a blessing. But it couldn’t be him. Ever since apprenticing under Keeper Ansom at the age of thirteen, Micah kept himself busy trying to develop the skills that might hopefully bring him to the attention of a capricious God.

From reading the Keeper’s books while helping at the library, he learned the common belief that the forgotten were ignored by the gods due to their laziness wasn’t entirely correct. It was true that the gods tended to choose those with skills and temperament suited to them, but it wasn’t a sure thing. Many youths did everything they could to obtain a blessing only to fall into the ranks of the forgotten. On the contrary, it wasn’t unheard of for a lazy student to receive a blessing without earning a single skill before their awakening.

Regardless of the rumor’s statistical accuracy it drove Micah to work harder. Every weekday he studied the tomes in the library, hoping to be rewarded with skill levels in spellcasting once he awakened. On the weekends, he practiced with the spear handed down from his older brother Trevor. Repeatedly attempting to hit the sack of straw swinging back and forth from the plum tree in the family garden or practicing the basic forms that Trevor taught him.

Thinking about Trevor brought a smile to Micah’s face. He was the first person in Micah’s family to receive an Uncommon blessing, the ability to throw a spear and have it return to his hand. Beyond his combat ability, Trevor was blessed with the innate knowledge of a previously unknown spearstyle. As soon as he received the blessing, Trevor joined a mid-sized adventuring guild, the Lancers. After training for a year, he began operating with a small party cleaning up the feral boars and small monsters that plagued the countryside around Basil’s Cove.

Micah's Brother wasn’t high enough level to challenge a dungeon yet, but his team let Micah join them on some of their simpler missions. By the age of fifteen Micah was able to kill a boar all on his own, a feat that earned him constant praise from his older brother. It might not be much compared to the rest of their teams’ martial arts, but it was an impressive enough achievement for an un-blessed youth.

Trevor was a vanguard, a whirlwind of stabbing and prodding spears that harassed and kept monsters at bay while Glenn and Meredith, the axeman and pyromancer of their squad, finished them off. Rounding things out was Renee, the team’s archer that provided non-magical ranged support for the rest of the fighters.

Micah would grudgingly accept being a warrior or vanguard like Trevor, he was good at it after all, but that wasn’t where his heart was. No, Micah wanted to be a wizard. He’d settle for becoming an elementalist like Meredith, specializing in one affinity of magic to the exclusion of all others, but his blood sang for proper spellcraft.

Ansom was a weaker wizard, only having low affinities in Earth and Wood magic. Still, even the old man’s low level rituals, twisting the two affinities together to make golems of stone and iron absolutely set Micah’s mind alight. From the first time he saw the creations helping Ansom move books around the Library, Micah knew that spellcraft was his future. Nevermind that most blessings came with limited to no magical affinity, forcing the adventurer to learn a martial art to channel their mana. Every fiber in Micah’s being longed to make it happen.

On his way home, Micah stopped in the market to pick up some last minute supplies before the benefits of his age faded. Luxos, the God of Sunlight and Patron of Humanity commanded that all of his followers provide aid and succor to youths. All reasonable purchases and education were free until he became an adult, at which point the God would cut him off, forcing him to earn his own way in the world.

Well, not exactly free. Luxos provided Sun Attunement to the merchants, usually slightly above the market rate for whatever was purchased, to ensure that their ‘charity’ didn’t harm them in the long run. Tomorrow, if he wished to purchase something, Micah would have to trade slivers of his own attunement, the font of all mana production on Karell. Of course, once he was blessed he’d be able to go out and earn attunement on his own by engaging in acts smiled upon by the gods.

Saying goodbye to old lady Jacobson, Micah loaded the sack onto his shoulder and headed back to his home. Trevor was out on a mission, wrapped up in important business and unable to come back for Micah’s birthday, but that didn’t mean that the rest of his family would let him celebrate alone.

Excitedly, he opened the door to his home, a mid sized wooden building attached to his Father’s tailor shop. Immediately the scent of freshly baked cake hit his nose, and Micah smiled. In the main room of the house, his Father, Jon, stood next to his Mother, Veronica, a hand affectionately draped over her shoulder while Esther, his younger sister bounced from foot to foot in excitement, her eyes fixed on the dinner table.

“Gods look at you,” Jon, a beanpole of a man just beginning to show grey in his beard and hair, said with a wistful smile on his face. “It seems like yesterday you were begging to apprentice at the library and now you’re of age.”

“I keep forgetting how big you are,” he continued, stepping around Esther to wrap Micah up in a hug. “Remember, no matter what happens tonight you’ll always have a home here. Not everyone needs to have some sort of grand magical destiny, and I could always use another set of hands around the shop.”

“Hush dear,” Veronica brushed his Father aside before putting her hands on either side of Micah’s face. “I know that you’re special Micah. All of my babies are. Trevor has his spear, you have your books, and Esther will find her own way. Don’t let your father put the seed of doubt in your heart. You were born for greatness and I know it. Just call it a Mother’s intuition.”

He smiled back uncomfortably. On his sixteenth birthday, MIcah’s Father received a Common blessing from Saborell, the God of merchants and craftsmen that allowed him to measure and fit clothing with absolute accuracy. His Mother was forgotten.

Officially the forgotten weren’t discriminated against, but many people whispered that the gods passed them over with their favors for a reason. Veronica tried to hide it, but every day Micah could see how the sidelong pitying glances weighed upon her. Instead, she put every hope in her children. When Trevor was blessed with an Uncommon ability, Micah could have sworn that she was more excited than anyone else in the house, including Trevor.

As a forgotten, she faced daily struggles and would have had next to nothing on her own. Veronica was shunned in the marketplace and generally looked down upon by their neighbors. Unofficially, the forgotten weren’t even allowed to rent or purchase homes in their family’s comfortable upper middle class district.

Veronica was an exception and a sore point for their neighbors. Micah’s Father met her as a young man when she was selling flowers by the side of the road just outside the slums and took a liking to her.

Jon was a good man who could look past something as small as the minor magical blessings that most citizens didn’t even use daily, but the same couldn’t be said about the other craftspeople of Basil’s Cove. Even on the day of their wedding, it was impossible to quell all of the gossip about how she was marrying above her station. That the only reason a pretty girl like Veronica would marry a gangling man like Jon was his attunement and blessing.

To this day, Micah knew better than to bring their wedding and neighbors up around his Mother. Mentioning her Sister in Law’s toast in particular was a great way to get stuck weeding the family garden only to eat bland steamed vegetables for a week.

“Get a good blessing,” Esther ordered him, pressing her shoulder in between their Mother and Micah so that she could wrap her arms around his lower torso. “Sandy says that you’re only going to get a Common ability and that you’ll never be as cool as Trevor. You need to get a good one so I can shut her up.”

“With that motive,” Micah laughed and tousled her hair, “how would I dare get something less than an Uncommon blessing?”

“Good,” Esther nodded curtly, a gleam in her eye as she adopted a serious air. “Now that you know, let’s eat. Mom hasn’t even let me touch that cake for almost an hour while we waited for you to come home.”

After dinner, Micah laid down in his bed, mind racing. Sleep eluded him. It was paradoxical, really. As soon as he drifted off, he would learn his fate. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, but no matter what he tried: counting, meditation, reciting pages from Ansom’s histories, nothing worked. Instead, Micah’s nervous energy kept him unsettled, tossing and turning deep into the night.

Finally he stood up and put on a set of nightclothes. Maybe some fresh air would help. It certainly beat stewing in nervous energy and worrying with his eyes closed.

He stepped out into the small garden that his mother maintained behind their house and made his way to a wooden bench fixed to his home’s wall. Sitting down he glanced up into the night sky. Even in the city, night was peaceful. Far away, Micah heard the bustle of the taverns and brothels, but in his neighborhood there was nothing but the steady thud of the local constable’s spear on cobblestone as he paced down the street.

Thud. Micah never really looked at the stars. Thud. Every morning he was up with the dawn, working with Keeper Ansom until sundown. Thud. Then it was back home to eat a quick dinner before going to bed and repeating the process. Thud. Other boys his age spent time on boys and girls. Thud. Chasing after each other all day in order to play giggling breathless games under the stars. Thud. They probably didn’t stop for long to enjoy the night’s beauty either. Thud.

Micah opened his eyes. He was someplace else. A dimly lit fog surrounded him, and the only object he recognized was the wooden bench that he had fallen asleep on. He stood up hesitantly, glancing into the murky abyss.

“Human,” a genderless voice echoed through the emptiness of the space. “Rejoice for you have been blessed by the sixteen.”

Micah’s heart started pounding in his chest. This wasn’t how it happened for Trevor. His Brother simply had a dream about how to use his ability and woke up able to see his status sheet with the name of the ability printed upon it.

“As more than one God wishes to select you,” the voice continued, “the choice of which blessing to select shall be yours. You will only be told the name of the deity and the rarity of the gift offered to you. Choose wisely as such an opportunity will never come again.”

“Jiana, Goddess of Scribes wishes to offer you an Uncommon blessing,” the voice intoned evenly. “Mursa, Goddess of Magic and Moonlight wishes to offer you a Mythic blessing, and Ankros, God of Darkness and Struggle wishes to offer you a Rare blessing.”

Micah opened his mouth to respond. Clearly he was going to take the Mythic blessing. Mursa and Ankros were both major Gods, their power orders of magnitude higher than the lesser deities that usually blessed humans. Even an Uncommon blessing from one of them could outstrip a Rare or Mythic blessing from a lesser God. Literally, the only blessing more powerful than a Mythic from a Greater God would be to be made a chosen, but each deity could only support one or two of those at a time.

“I apologize,” the voice interjected, slightly amused. “It is unusual but there has been a change. Ankros has heard the offer from Mursa and amended his own. Ankros is now also offering a Mythic blessing.”

The empty glowing fog sat in silence for a handful of seconds before the voice continued. “Please state the name of the God or Goddess whose blessing you accept and you will be expelled from this place to awaken with the power of their blessing in full force.”

Micah’s mouth flopped open, his initial answer caught in his throat. His pick of Mythic powers from Greater Gods. That was something out of a story, reserved for the rich sons of nobles born under auspicious stars. He marshalled his thoughts as he tried to make sense of the impossible situation. Having finally come to a decision, he opened his mouth to give his answer