Arya's Awakening!

The line of anxious teenagers shifted uncomfortably, their nervous expressions deepening with every failed awakening. Each time the doors of the side hall opened, it was never with joy, but with a crushed spirit walking out; another hopeful candidate denied the chance to be more than ordinary.

Arya's fingers tightened around Raymond's right hand.

Her palm felt cold and clammy, a stark contrast to her usual warmth.

"Raymond..." she whispered, her voice small, laced with uncertainty.

Seeing her distress, Raymond gently brushed his left hand over hers, offering a reassuring squeeze. His voice was calm, even if his own nerves were starting to creep up on him.

"It's okay… It's okay…"

Even as he said it, he wasn't sure if he was trying to comfort Arya or himself.

A female priestess, clad in the traditional white robes of the temple, stepped out of the side hall.