It was a bright afternoon. Henry Greymight was busying himself on his letter for his father. The temples had given them a generous allowance, which allowed him to afford one of those newfangled fountain pens in a few weeks time. The ink flowed from the tank of the pen and was then being printed upon the sheet he was writing upon. The words that had once inhabited his mind had migrated onto the sheet through his hands and his pen.

He usually wrote his letters at night right before he went to sleep, but this time, he deigned it highly important to be written right before the Ritual of Heroic Ascension. They had some brutal training beforehand and his arms were yet sore from the beating the instructors had wreaked upon their limbs. He powered through the numbness of his arms just so the letter could be completed.

They were being trained to become heroes. The gods that dwelt in the temple had decreed and chosen them so. It's so exhausting sometimes. Their demands and expectations were simply mounted over them with little care. They were wearing their iconic white mail armor. He wasn't quite sure why they've put extra emphasis on training them with the blade.

He turned his eyes upward when he heard the familiar swish of wings. The bird before his feet. The bird looked at him expectantly in the eye. In the light he could see with greater clarity the color of its plumage. Black glossy feathers cloaked its form. Inset upon its skull was a pair of eyes that glowed like two stray stars.

Henry could only chuckle at it looked at him, waiting for something. He carefully folded his letter. He folded it with care and even tied it together with some sturdy string. He handed his package to the bird which it took with its talons with due haste. Just as quickly as it had arrived, the bird had alighted before him. It flew into the forest far west, towards the sun and towards his home. His father would be waiting to receive his message. He simply hoped that he would receive it well.

He was putting away his stuff when the guards of Hiernos arrived at the scene. They pointed their spears at an expected enemy, but the enemy which they were looking for was not found in their destination. The guards wore faces of confusion as the quarry was not to be found and the one they found was one of their own.

As they searched the area in vain, they couldn't find their quarry. They hadn't let Henry leave the area, just in case he had colluded with their quarry. Shortly after they've begun their search, Hiernos himself made an appearance on sight. He seemed livid as though something had offended him on a fundamental level. His usually regal regard had been replaced by an ugly scowl.

This was Hiernos, god of knowledge and truth. He was one of the gods that the nearby temple was housing. He was a tall lanky dude with feathers in place of hair. His eyes were covered in a white blindfold although it appeared that he could see fine even with it on. As was customary to the gods of the pantheon he belonged to, he wore a pristine white robe with blue and gold trimmings.

A flock of crows had come alongside his arrival. They landed upon the eaves and the branches of nearby houses and trees. They looked similar to his father's crow, with glossy black feathers, but the ones that surrounded him all had eyes that glowed yellow. They watched him with judgemental gazes that he felt like shrinking in their collective stare.

Hiernos turned to Henry. His golden irides pierced through his being as he looked at him intensely. He felt like he could crumble if he so twitched wrong under his divine gaze.

"You, Henry Greymight, have you seen a green-eyed crow pass through here?" Hiernos asked.

"No," Henry answered with as calm a tone as possible.

Hiernos narrowed his eyes and questioned further, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," he replied. "I have seen many birds, but I cannot recall seeing such a crow trying to hide here."

Hiernos looked at him closely. Eventually, he sighed in defeat. It seemed like the crow had slipped their midst. He turned to his guards and said, "Well, we'll catch for sure next time."

He got the guards into order and ushered them back to their previous posts, now leaving only him and Henry on the spot. Henry gulped as he feared that Hiernos had seen through his lies, but he was relieved at the next words that escaped his mouth.

"You should hurry, Henry. The Ritual of Heroic Transcendence is about to begin. You shouldn't miss it," Hiernos advised.

Henry nodded and began running for the temple. He looked behind him and was quite relieved that Hiernos looked immediately somewhere. He couldn't sigh in relief; it was quite possible for Hiernos to have literal eyes behind his head. Before running any further, he made sure that no yellow-eyed crows were following him.

~^*^=8=^*^~

Henry nervously sat upon the stone pews that lined the temple. The temple was mighty impressive with high-reaching vaults, tall pointy stained-glass windows, and fluted columns. The weight of the construction pressed upon Henry, shaming him for not conforming to its sacred beauty and divine patterns.

In the middle of the chamber was a large circular platform. Priests in white robes circled the platform, throwing white powder onto it. They chanted quietly as they walked the circumference until the contents of their bags have been emptied onto the stage.

He looked upon his friends (and roommates) by his side. They seemed to be occupying themselves with differing activities. Angar Broodlor was looking at the feasting table with eager eyes, especially the abundant bottles of wine that lay by their legs. The feast was set to occur after the ritual, but it seems that it's a wait too long for Angar.

Jeema Graves was twiddling her thumbs. She would usually occupy herself in reading trashy romance literature, but this time, the officials had confiscated her novelettes so that she may focus on the ritual at hand. He wasn't quite sure if that would really put her focus into the ritual, but maybe it would capture her attention more fully once the event was already ongoing.

Aspen Evrin was dozing on his side. Whenever Aspen had nothing to do, she would often take that opportunity to take a nap. She had few hobbies other than sleeping. It was quite a godsend that she could easily be woken. Henry would rue the day when he would find his shoulder irremovable from the drooling mouth of his seatmate.

Henry's head turned when he heard an attendant ring the silver bells. His eyes were directed to the podium in front. There, the divine patrons of the temple stood, watching over the oncoming ritual. All of them wore white, which appeared to be the theme of this temple.

There were three of them: Hiernos, Eorphin, and Nimessa. Henry had met Hiernos earlier that day. He had not changed since then. His head was covered in white feathers, and a silk blindfold covered his eyes. His hands were scaly like feet of birds, and each of his fingers was tipped with pointy claws. His torso was veiled by a white robe with blue and gold trimmings. He looked upon the chosen who were seated somewhat uncomfortably upon marble seats. Aletro, his most trusted attendant was perched upon his right shoulder. Aletro was a large black crow with glowing yellow eyes. It joined in judging the youth below.

Beside him was Eorphin, the goddess of light and hunting. She was pristine white wolf with large feathered wings folded upon her back. Her eyes were a haunting blue that gandered upon the youth with a kind caring look. She wore a white sash with an orange and greens trim. Safely stowed on her side was a scabbard within which was her trusty spear, Regonicks.

In front of them both was the goddess of fertility and beauty, Nimessa. She was presented as a voluptuous woman in a thin white dress. Across her chest was a blue-gold sash. She was endowed with large breasts that jiggled with her every move (something Henry thought was impossible). She wore a smooth immaculate complexion that was only possible on the skin of a goddess.

She raised her delicate hands over her and then began to speak, "Prospective heroes, chosen by our temple, the time draws near. After today, you won't be leaving this temple as mere mortals but as true immortal heroes."

"The truth be with us. The ritual shall cleanse your being of the impurities of your mortal life," Hiernos continued.

Your past shall be burned away, leaving only the legend you have wrought. Today your old life shall die, and you shall be reborn as a legendary hero," Eorphin added. Her white fur coat practically glowed with pride in her words.

"Let us begin," the three divinities chorused. "Dean Rutherford! Please get on the platform."

Dean Rutherford stood up as he was called. He stepped onto the platform. The priests began chanting their songs and the gods were raising their hands, bestowing their blessings unto the legend that's about to be born.

Fire sprouted from the powder spread upon the floor. It engulfed the boy, engulfing him into a pillar of flame. It filled the room with light. Fear had wound its way into Henry's heart as he saw the boy that stood upon the platform being burned alive by holy flame, but he couldn't take away his eyes. The bright column had enthralled him. The pillar swirled as the powers that fueled it churned.

Eventually, the ritual was finished, and Dean, the boy that had entered the pillar had been changed into something else. In his place was a great heroic man in brilliant white armor. He stood with greater energy than was possible on a mortal man. His eyes gleamed a heroic yellow that was evident to all.

His mortal flesh was shed from his legend. All the fears and doubts that plague a mortal mind were burned away, leaving only a paragon heroic mind. He exuded an aura that declared to the world that the being that had now stood was no mortal hero but an exalted one, exalted into a legend of his own.

The ritual cleansing had continued. One by one, all the chosen ones that had attended were being called by name. Each of them stood upon the powdered platform where their doubts and former mortality were burned away by holy flame. Soon, Henry's turn to stand upon the cleansing platform would arrive, and all that he was would be burned away. He would be reborn as a legend, but he couldn't help but feel nervous at his participation in the ritual. Could he really let go of all the things that had defined them up that point? Would his father approve?

"Henry Greymight!"

His doubts had to be set aside. A legend was to be born.