After the search party, the rest of the week passed without event. No news, nothing. It felt like I blinked and the whole thing passed me by. Besides my exercises, I had also been tending Father's sword. After the first time where I passed out, I was only allowed to attempt blade tending while supervised, though much like my exercises the results were slow going.

The biggest barrier to further improvement seemed to be my lung capacity as my tending visions faded once I stopped singing. Unfortunately for me, each time I started the song afresh the visions I saw would repeat from the start, so I was unable to see past where I lost consciousness. The only progress I made was to better control the instinct to sing and to know my limits to avoid hurting myself again.

Before I knew it the day of the rite was upon me, mother had prepared a brand new dress for me to wear instead of my usual patchwork garb. It was a simple white dress, it was traditional to partake of the rite while dressed in white to symbolise the blank canvas that you are. The parents often attended the rite to watch their children be 'reborn' into adults as their Animus-blade manifested.

Unfortunately, Auntie couldn't come, she was going to be busy helping the murder investigation against Jon, with the village being almost abandoned it was the perfect time to confront him, the risk of collateral damage in case of a fight was low. The favour she called in was effective, though she didn't say any more about it. 'Consider the case solved.' in her own words.

But I couldn't find peace. I knew that I should be put at ease by the thought of Jon being arrested for his crimes but I couldn't stop the wildfire of hate in my heart. We didn't find Alessia alive or dead, it was like she vanished and while I was heading to career damnation, the revenge for Alessia was being carried out without me. By the time I got back, Jon wouldn't be there anymore. I should be glad that she's finally getting justice but I couldn't be. I didn't know why but it all left me feeling hollow and frustrated.

Before midday, the horse-drawn carriages arrived to take us to the city. I distracted myself from my chaotic thoughts by focusing on the present. It was my first time leaving the village, under ordinary circumstances, I would have been excited but the rite was just going to expose me as a bladeless.

I patted my thigh just to double-check that I still had her dagger before making a conscious effort to stop chewing my sleeve. Luckily I caught myself before I could mangle the fabric too badly, I didn't want to ruin the dress immediately.

It wasn't until I had boarded and got myself sat down that I noticed how alone I felt. There were four of us on the way to the rite this year. These were my classmates, I knew all of their names and could pick them out from a crowd but if you asked me anything else about them I wouldn't know. The whole ride I sat in silence while the others filled their time with idle chatter.

As we travelled I watched as the landscape slowly turned from grassy and dry to lush and verdant. There were a large variety of new flowers, well new to the landscape, I already knew most of their names because of Alessia's obsession. Along the way, I saw a deer get too close to a slime that was mimicking water. Before the deer had a chance to react its head was engulfed and no matter how it kicked and rolled it couldn't escape before it suffocated. The rest of the journey was a lot more of the same sights, near human settlements animals tended to be wary but out on the roads, it seemed that they were more brazen.

We spent so long in the carriages that I thought we'd never arrive, so there was some relief when I was able to finally spot the city's large white walls through the carriage window. I'd read of the city's walls before but seeing them up close really put their sheer size into perspective, even the tallest tree I had seen looked dwarfed by the immense structure. The ride was unpleasantly long and I now understood first-hand why my mother always left so early, it would probably be pretty close to midnight by the time we got back.

The huge gates that barred entry into the city, opened as we approached as if reacting to our presence. A few guards came to check the carriages to make sure that there was nothing wrong but other than that our entry was quick and smooth.

Entering the city was like stepping into a different world, cobbled streets, stone and wood buildings and strange statues of men and women in flowing robes that shot seemingly infinite water into a basin. There was an abundance of guards patrolling the streets, with so many guards around it was hard to believe that any crime could go unnoticed here. The smells that faintly lingered in the air teased your stomach, vague hints of meats and spices or yeasty breads could be caught now and then.

Finally, we came to a stop in front of a tall building in the centre of the city. It was made of the same smooth white stone as the perimeter walls and looked like an obelisk with giant metal doors. The doors were coated in many intricate designs including artistic depictions of the Holy forge which gifted humanity with Animus-blades and of the Principus the first one to gain their blade. There were six cities capable of performing the rite; the stories say that each city was founded around holy beacons that the gods plunged deep into the earth.

It seemed that our carriage was one of the last to arrive at the plaza. As the eyes of the other hopefuls and spectators fell on us with contempt. We were quickly ushered into the large group of waiting children from all walks of life. Some wore noble finery dyed white with silver accents while others wore more modest clothes similar in design to ours.

"Ahem!"

A booming voice called out. Before the giant metal doors stood a short man adorned in a pitch-black robe, and atop his head, he wore a cap that featured a large metal fin sharpened to a razor edge. His appearance was unmistakable, he was the head priest of the city. All of us fell silent as he spoke, despite looking so small and weak he projected his voice with such volume and confidence that you could feel your organs shake and you couldn't help but stare in awe.

"Young ones! Rejoice! For today you shall all take but the first step into adulthood. The first step of your longest and greatest journey. Regardless of today's results, know that you are soon to be the masters of your destiny! Take hold of your blade and cut free of the weakness of immaturity! Here you will prove the strength of your soul and receive the blessings of the gods freely for it is your birthright as humans!"

His words were met with roaring approval from everyone, even those who weren't spiritually inclined felt invigorated by his speech. Head priests were typically the strongest and most devoted members of the church, while one could become a great adventurer or soldier by merit alone; a head priest was only selected by the Holy Forge once they had shown overwhelming strength and devotion.

But to me, this was a public execution of sorts. Before my classmates and the many people from the city and villages all over I was going to be deemed unworthy of an Animus-blade. The more the head priest hyped everyone up, the more my stomach twisted and knotted. All I could do was remember Auntie's words and live the best life I could.

"I shall keep you waiting no longer! I am honoured to be the one performing your rites and hope that among you may lie a member of our future clergy!"

Without further ado, the priest held his palms up and a giant black orb appeared above them, the orb twisted and stretched until it shattered revealing an immense black greatsword resting on the palms of the tiny priest.

Of course, I'd been told of the head priest's power but seeing it in person truly left me awestruck. The greatsword passively radiated waves of heat that instantly caused all of those in its presence to sweat profusely. But I was probably the only one to experience its true glory, a baritone voice hummed its wordless song. It was a deep monastic thrumming that kept an even measured rhythm. Had I not already believed in the great forge I felt certain that this experience would have converted me.

My body cried out to acknowledge the song the same way I had with my father's sword but I wrestled against it. My mother loved my father and had great respect for him but by all accounts, he was of about average strength. If I was worn out by trying to tend Father's blade I feared that an attempt to tend the head priests would prove fatal.

As I ignored the maddening thrum the small man took its handle and raised the greatsword in a single hand with the same ease as stretching before pointing at the gates with the blade. On cue, enormous hands of flame gripped the giant rings on the doors tugging on them. Despite the overwhelming display of power, it appeared that the hands of flame were struggling to move the doors.

The head priest was putting up a fight that took everything he had. The veins all over his head bulged and writhed like snakes as he exerted more and more strength on the doors. With one massive flare, the hands finally managed to open the doors just a crack.

The sound that exploded from the tiny opening scrambled my brain, it defied explanation and was so loud that it felt like all of my other senses were erased. I was completely numb and all I could smell and taste was the thick iron of blood, my vision darkened to only the barest crimson pinprick. Fear gripped me as it never had before, a sense of impending doom washed over me as I felt my body starting to fail.

The sound was like a downpour of infinite raindrops, each drop was but a single unique voice singing a tune that bore no similarities to the ocean of others. Picking out but a single voice from the choir was impossible but together they formed a song both beautiful and cacophonous and wholly unknowable. Unlike the priest, I had no control over myself. The last memory I have of that day was whispering "I hear you." before my wakeful mind snapped like a guitar string and all was black.