Mahal made sure to take no precautions, scurrying to put on what was a dark blue long sleeve, with light embroidings that went from the stomach all the way to knees. The fabric itself felt as if even the air surrounding it was heavier.

  The winds surrounding attempted to whip at those gathered, but Mahal spotted several of the older Dhrami on the outskirts of the isnd, creating an arcanic barrier that managed to keep all but the slightest of breezes from entering inside.

  A collective song was sung quietly as each Dhrami present held their heads low. His father had told him that most of the words they sang were unknown, that they only knew the feelings and sounds behind their ancestral nguage. Mahal himself knew only a couple words, and even those made little sense to him.

  The only ones not following suit were a few others, such as a few dwarves, an elf, and a few other races that Mahal didn’t quite recognize.

  The ground beneath seemed to stretch away from his feet as he forced every step closer to the temple. The heat of the summers only helped Mahal be more aware of the sweat that swarmed his body. And every attempt to distract his mind with his various projects only made him more aware of what was to come. The only silver lining was in the fact that he was supposed to keep his head bowed, so that he could at least rest his head.

  “Oh, Mahal Ato Auroret, son of Marcio Auroa Auroret, why have you come here today?”

  Mahal instinctively looked up to see a well-wrinkled and stoic face. His Elder stood about a half foot above him, and held close to her chest a single leather-bound book.

  “Grand Elder of the Auroret Fleet,” Mahal hesitated as he was tempted to look toward his father, who was right at the front of the crowds, along with Da Hote. However, the eyes from the other Dhrami swiveled Mahal’s focus back on the Elder. He began to bow from his torso as he continued, “I… I have reached the age of Mah’awi. I therefore ask you, o’wise Elder, to anoint upon me my destined silent markings, as ordered by the Archives of the Old”. Mahal reached deep into the air to full bow, before holding still.

  “Mahal Ato Auroret”, the Elder replied as she stepped aside. “Hold your head high. The Sages of Buwan, Nesanda, and Mayari accept your request. You may continue inside, as well as any that wish to witness the Mah’awi of Mahal Ato Auroret”

  Mahal awkwardly brought himself back to fully stand as he continued forward into the temple. The temple itself had no actual walls, but decorated columns that lined both the perimeter and the interior. On each column, nterns with orange fmes were strewn about, each dancing around as the wind greeted each. At the backside was a drawer, with a pin wooden table sitting in front of it. On the floor, hundreds of velvet and silk pillows y on the floor as people started to sit on them. As he entered the center, he saw that part of the roof had been cut out. With it the symbol of Buwan, a crescent moon with three stars sitting at the front side of it, was made.

  Mahal waited underneath this light as he watched the others file in. However, he kept a close eye on the Elven guards, who maintained a distance away from the temple as they had their backs turned away from the temple.

  At the front, the Elder prepared a single gss canister, which was full of a starry liquid that wasn’t so easily swayed. Next to the elder, there were several other of the Elder’s helpers, all of whom were tidying up the area as the rest of the area continued to be filled.

  “Mahal Ato Auroret, you may step forward now” the Elder said as she brought the gss canister in front of her.

  He followed the order from the Elder, taking each step as carefully as the st. As soon as he was three feet away from the Elder, he quickly stopped, and bowed again from his torso, and his arms stayed by his side. In the next second, the Elder moved her hand forward, with Mahal taking her hand shakily as he pressed it against his bowed head.

  “Elder of the Auroret Cn, I am honored by your presence, and by the gods”

  “By Buwan’s Light, by Nesenda’s Mercy, and by Mayari’s guidance, you have gained your rights. Kneel before the gods, Kilor Mayu-Buwa Baynor Nagi-Trata-Bawanor”

  The rest of the temple repeated after the Elder in unison. Mahal’s knees felt like mush as he let go of the Elder’s hand. A loud thud followed Mahal as he fell to his knees rather than softly nding. As he sat on his knees, Mahal heard a couple of grunts, before a pair of heavier footsteps came close to him.

  The Elder’s eyes drifted away from her right, with a hesitancy in her voice, “To the parent of Mahal Ato Auroret. You may rise”

  Seated near the front of the Temple, practically right next to Mahal, his father quietly rose and moved next to his son. By this point, Mahal started to take off his shirt, revealing sets of scars on his stomach, chest, and other areas. Amongst the scars also were a set of recently singed chest hairs.

  “Marcio Aurao Auroret, take the silent markings of Buwan, and proceed”

  His father slowly took the gss canister, bringing it to his side, before opening it up. The breeze provided comfort to Mahal as he was left to stay still, his life to be made in a few minutes.

  Mahal could’ve sworn he heard the slightest sound of chimes as his father’s fingers dipped into the starry silver-esque liquid, before bringing them to the middle of Mahal’s chest. He nearly shriveled as the liquid made contact, but a sensation of a soft warmth greeted him instead. Like the sun on one’s face on a mild day.

  Mahal kept his eyes closed as his father consistently drew on his chest and torso. Although he couldn’t see it, some of the shapes did come to mind. The waves of fire, flickers as either sparks or stars, and on his back, the crescent moon, along with the three stars that always accompanied it.

  The song of the waves, the tune of the winds, it coced, and for a moment, things seemed to settle. Maybe he could be alright. Projects the Datu had banned him from researching, he’d be given practically free reign. He could finally sleep on the top bunk on the ship, instead of being greeted every week by a salt spray. And he’d have the memory of his father ingrained into him.

  However, Mahal instinctively opened his eyes as the pted armor of the Elves outside pulled him back. Eyes followed his every movement, every creak of his bones. Soon, minutes turned into infinity, and his knees were grains of sand slipping away. At some point, his father whispered, “Mahal, rise”.

  Mahal rose gently, keeping his head bowed and his eyes closed. His father again dipped his hands into the gss canister. He felt a reverse crescent on his left cheek, as a pattern of waves was then drawn on his neck, before being connected to the rest of the markings on his body.

  A bcksmith upon a ship of driftwood and chunks of iron. Destined to watch as elves cursed them off any nd. Was this really what the gods wished for? Buwan, why did she free the Dhrami, why did she sacrifice herself? Why give them hope?

  “Seat yourself, Marcio Aurao Auroret” the Elder’s voice was quick and rough as Marcio silently followed the Elder’s orders.

  “Mahal Ato Auroret, raise your head” Mahal did so as the Elder continued, “May the Goddess’ who guides every Dhrami’s path, may they take you under their wing. Whether it be Nesenda storms of passion, or Mayari’s stars of guidance-” the Elder’s eyes dotted towards the left nearby as Mahal caught Da Hote holding a stare towards her. “Or even the fates will it, may Buwan’s light of mercy take hold in you”

  The Elder muttered in silence, and before too long, a white-ashened piece of wood emerged from her hand. Walking past Mahal, she made her way to the crescent-shaped hole in the ceiling, before then holding it towards the roof, and chanting, “Ancient Goddesses, which one shall bless Mahal Ato Auroret?”

  Silence followed the Elder’s words, before each individual candle slowly altered itself into a silvery fme. The moonlight that once gathered around the Elder now shifted towards Mahal. Even as he couldn’t see the markings on his body, a faint silver glow emitted all around him.

  Nothing followed at first. Some shuffled around, others faintly whispered between each other. It took about a half a minute before Da Hote started to cp, with his father going up to hug him.

  The Elder walked over, before pcing her hand on Mahal’s shoulder. As she talked, the words came out slowly, “You have been chosen by Buwan, Mahal. I present you with your wand. Harness her power, through all the evil that will come your way”.

  “Thank-” Mahal looked to the Elder, but found the Elder’s eyes watering, and the usual bnk expression now traded in for the slightest look of mourning. “Hold fast to your friends, Mahal. I… I am sorry it must be this way”

  Mahal watched as the Elder then turned around, bowing to the rest of the temple before saying, “Aniti Maya Auroret, please present Mahal with his Barong”

  In the midst of his father hugging him, and the slow progression of gathering cps, Mahal had nearly forgotten that his chest y bare. He swiftly walked over to where the Elder was standing, and watched as two Dhrami women stood up. One of them, who looked a few years his elder, stuck her arm in. The other, her mother no doubt, looked closer to the Elder’s age, and braced herself against the arm, before both of them walked together. Each of them wore beautifully ornate yellow dresses, something that Mahal had thought was more myth than reality.

  As both of them stared at Mahal, the daughter gently handed the mother a box about the size of half a pnk of wood. The Mother gave a warm smile as she bowed her head and gave it to him, and he also bowed his head.

  Inside revealed a dark blue coat, which had an embroidered design on the colr. Simple golden buttons ordained the right side of the coat. Along with the coat came a simple shirt and pants, which matched the color of the coat perfectly. Mahal looked further into the package, finding a cape which seemed to extend to the knees. As he brought it out, simir embroideries on the edges and neck area were pced.

  Mahal took one look at all the clothes, ensuring to carefully hold as he inspected all the pieces closer. These clothes were more fit for a son of a Datu, not a bcksmith’s son, especially one like him. For Buwan’s sake, the fanciest thing he owned was his smithing hammer.

  The daughter then brought out another box, and handed it a set of leather boots which seemed to almost go up to his knees. With it, a set of leather gloves were tucked inside, even a series of belts with some with poaches was included.

  “Blessed Aniti, are you sure these gifts weren’t switched for someone else?”

  “Quite the bbber, and put it on, Mahal”

  Once he got dressed, he took a moment to get a feel for the outfit. Both the shirt and coat fit snuggly, and yet it felt as breathable as his other clothes. Just as he thought, the boots almost went up to his knees. But perhaps best of all, the pouches had seemingly infinite amounts of small compartments for him to store whatever he needed throughout the day.

  The Elder nodded as she studied him. And after a moment or two, she briskly brought back the white-ashened wand from earlier, and said, “Mahal Ato Auroret, may you find these gifts acceptable as you grow into a proper Dhrami”

  Mahal stood there for a second, mouth agape, before almost yelling, “Thank you so much-” the Elder raised an eyebrow as he stopped himself short. “Elder Anaga, Aniti, I graciously accept these gifts, and can only hope to be as skillfully in my craft as what’s shown in these gifts”

  The Elder nodded in satisfaction before turning towards those gathered, “To those who have gathered for the Mah’awi of Mahal, let us celebrate the making of a new man!”