The village church stood quietly in the morning sun, its stone walls glowing softly. Today was the day every child turning twelve would attend the Baptism Ceremony, where the Church revealed their future role. Families filled the pews, children whispered nervously, and the scent of incense mingled with fresh bread from the market.
Arin walked beside his mother, Mira, her hand warm in his.
"Arin… are you nervous?" she asked softly, glancing at him.
"I… a little," he admitted. "What if my blessing isn't anything special?"
Mira knelt slightly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "The blessing isn't about being the strongest or the smartest. It shows your potential—the path the Church believes you should follow. But your journey… that is yours to shape."
Arin nodded, taking a deep breath as they approached the church. The stained-glass windows reflected sunlight across the cobblestone yard. Villagers gathered, murmuring excitedly, while priests prepared the holy water for the ritual.
Inside the Church
Children lined up nervously as the priest called them one by one to the altar. Each dipped their hand into the sacred water, and symbols appeared above their palms, representing the life path the Church assigned them: healer, scholar, artisan, warrior…
When it was Arin's turn, he stepped forward, his pulse quickening. Keep calm… just focus.
He dipped his hand into the water. The priest intoned the blessing in a soft, melodic chant. The water shimmered in gold and silver, reflecting the sunlight streaming through the stained glass.
A symbol appeared above Arin's palm: a sword encircled by a faint aura—the mark of a Warrior.
Gasps rose softly around the church. Arin's mother smiled warmly, pride shining in her eyes. "Arin… a warrior…" she whispered, brushing his hair back.
Arin looked at the mark. Officially, he was now recognized as a Warrior class. Strong, capable, and destined to walk the path of combat and protection. Yet beneath that official blessing, his hidden Dragon Flow pulsed faintly—a strength no one could see or sense. Only he felt it, the secret hum of power whispering that this was only the beginning.
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The villagers murmured with admiration. Some children looked on with envy, some with awe.
"You… warrior?" whispered a boy nearby, wide-eyed.
"Yes," Arin replied softly, bowing slightly.
Mira squeezed his hand. "This is only the beginning. Remember, Arin… your true potential will reveal itself in time. For now… keep it hidden."
Arin nodded, determination blazing in his blue eyes. Warrior class… official, recognized… but my true power is still mine alone. No one can see it. Not yet. And I'll make sure I become stronger than any mark could ever show.
The priest concluded the ceremony, blessing all the children as they returned to their families. Arin walked beside Mira, his steps lighter than before. The mark of the Warrior shone faintly on his palm, a symbol of the path he would follow, but only he knew the full potential that slept within him.
This… this is just the beginning, he thought. My journey has truly started.