The inside of the stone building was a lot different from the rest of the monastery’s architecture. Palag had the distinct impression that he’d seen it somewhere before, possibly when he’d been very young. However, there was nothing made out of stone on the cloud he’d grown up on. The fury tribe he’d been part of prided itself for remaining true to their ways. As far as he was aware they hadn’t even approached the side of a mountain.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“To the awakening altar,” the woman said in a calm voice. “Same as we do every day.”

“Every day?” That didn’t sound right. Palag had never set foot here. He distinctly remembered thinking about it. On a few occasions he and a few of his roommates had wondered what was inside.

“Don’t worry about it. The Moons only show us the path that is available to us.”

The standard vague response. Up till now it had always been enough to put his mind at ease. Now, though, it seemed to have the opposite effect. Instead of subduing his questions, it only made more of them pop up in his mind.

“I’m not an awakened,” the fury said. “Why am I going to an altar?”

The woman glanced at him, a thin smile appearing on her face.

“Because that’s the will of the Moons. If all goes well, you’ll have no more questions when it’s over.”

There were no doors within the building, just a series of corridors and interconnected chambers. As they walked, Palag saw that there were others already there. All of them were clerics and curates. In fact, other than him there wasn’t a single monk or acolyte. It was as if the monastery held two worlds: one outside of the stone building and one within.

A single corridor led to the innermost chamber, where an awakened altar awaited them. One look was enough to remind Palag that he had seen it several times before. The woman was right—this wasn’t his first time here. He’d been coming every day since arriving, even before moving to the shared room. One other thing, he hadn’t been at the monastery a week, but rather several months.

“Remember what to do?” the woman asked, stopping a few steps from the altar.

“I place my hand on the central part,” Palag said. “Then I step inside.” Images were swarming his mind.

“Yes, that’s good. Now, do it.”

“Will I see a Moon this time?”

The question surprised both of them. Palag had no idea why he had asked it. At the same time, the woman had no idea what to answer. Her confusion was plastered all over her face, as if she’d witnessed something that wasn’t supposed to exist.

“Only they would know.” A forced smile emerged. “Go ahead.” She gestured to the altar.

Taking the final few steps, Palag placed his hand on the altar and closed his eyes. Doing so wasn’t necessary, but he had found it helped him. Now all he had to do was concentrate and—

 

 

The fury’s surrounding’s disappeared, replaced by a courtyard paved with blue marble. A dozen columns rose up at its borders, going up tens of feet almost to the very sky. Fields of blue flowers continued to the horizon, all beneath the light of a massive Blue Moon.

“Hello?” Palag looked around.

The last few times nothing had happened. Of course, that hadn’t stopped Palag from trying. All that he knew was that he could remain in the realm of the shrine for as long as he desired and not a moment would pass in the real world.

“Hello!” he said more forcefully.

“Back again,” a male voice said next to him.

Looking in that direction, Palag saw a man dressed in a simple blue outfit. He didn’t appear particularly old, though wasn’t young either. Thinking about it, the man didn’t appear much of anything. He wasn’t particularly tall or particularly short, neither fat, nor slim… His features were so average that it could be said they were nondescript. The only thing of interest were the clothes he was wearing; deep blue in color, they were unmistakably of fury design.

“No, this isn’t cloud fabric,” the man said, as if reading Palag’s mind. “It’s more than that.”

“What?”

“You’re not here to ask about the clothes.” They shifted into the standard trousers and tunic the monks of the Order wore. “So, ask your question.”

“Which one?”

“The one you really wanted to ask.”

Are you a Moon? Palag wondered.

“That’s not the question,” the man said in a stern voice. “But yes. I’m Astreza, the Moon of Awakening.”

The fury had no idea what that meant, but it sounded impressive. The mere fact that a Moon had appeared was enough to make him feel as if lightning static was running through his body. There were seven entities that watched over the entire world and one of them was now here, talking to him. It was almost too good to be true.

“I want to follow you,” Palag said quickly, afraid he might lose his chance. “What do I do?”

“Hmm.” The Moon walked by him.

“Last time you were here, you asked if you could follow me. It seems you’ve already found the answer to that question.”

“We’ve spoken before?”

“You asked, I didn’t answer. You weren’t ready then.”

“But I am now?”

“No.” The Moon shook his head. “But you have the potential to be. Why do you want to follow me?”

“Because the monks and clerics said—”

“No.” The Moon cut him short. “Why do you want to follow me?”

Spoken out loud, the question was less obvious than Palag originally thought. He could have easily just said yes to gain access to the awakened powers. It was no secret that awakened lived completely different lives than anyone else. This was double for furies. Among the race, so few were granted with the gift that they were considered nobility. Yet, was that the right thing to do? Palag wasn’t in the clouds anymore; he was on the ground, in a small wooden monastery in the wilderness.

“Will it keep me safe?” he asked.

“Is that what you want?” The Moon mused. “Safety? Comfort? You already have that here. The clerics of the order placed a limiting echo in your realm, designed specifically to keep you happy. You’ll always be content and overjoyed with what you’re doing. All your fears and concerns will be forgotten.”

“But will I be safe?”

“Will you be safe if you become an awakened? Even we cannot freely meddle in this world. Maybe you live a long and joyful life full of luxury. Maybe you won't last another month. All you can do is make a choice and hope for the best.”

Make a choice and hope for the best. Many would have found that terrifying, but Palag was glad. During the last few years, he hadn’t been given the opportunity to choose anything. He didn’t choose for his race to attack the empire, he didn’t choose to end up alone on the ground, nor did he choose to spend years hiding in constant fear, eating anything he could find.

“I want to become an awakened!” he said with determination.

“In that case, welcome to your realm, awakened.”

Reality shifted again. Palag was in a large white room made of clouds. There were no doors, windows or any other openings, nothing but floor, walls, and ceiling.

 

 

A glowing blue rectangle glowed above his head. On it, the words body, mind, reaction, and perception were written along with the number three beside each. The interesting thing was that the text was written in Palag’s own language.

 

 

Uncertain what to do, the fury circled the rectangle to check what was written on the other side. Anticlimactically, the text was identical.

“Do you mean I must break this?” the fury asked.

No one responded. If the Moon was still paying attention, he was doing so from a distance.

Palag waited for a few minutes, then created an air current, grabbing hold of it like a whip, and shattered the blue rectangle.

Fragments burst throughout the room, then abruptly flew back to one another, reassembling the object. However, this time, the rectangle had turned purple. One more word had appeared—the word magic.

A doorway formed in the cloud wall across Palag. It was quite obvious what was expected of him. Even so, he hesitated for over a minute before continuing on.

Beams of sunlight shone through holes in the ceiling. Despite them, there didn’t seem to be any other doors or openings, just a passage forward. After a hundred steps, the corridor split into three.

 

 

A purple rectangle emerged.

The forward branch of the corridor continued for another ten steps, ending with a wall. On it was what could only be described as a mage’s staff. That seemed like a good choice. The left corridor held a short sword, while on the end of the right a buckler hung from the wall.

Three items, one choice.

“Spellcraft,” Palag read. “Attack. Guard. Can I choose all three?”

It would have been nice for that to be an option. With these three skills, he’d be able to make sure no one hurt him ever again. What was more, he’d be able to protect others. Sadly, it was unlikely the Moons would allow him to receive everything he wanted. Not at once, at least.

Instinct urged him to go for the sword. In this cruel world, the only way to remain alive was to eliminate any threat. Was that the best choice, though? The bucker was even less useful. What good was it to defend others if he couldn’t protect himself? As for the staff, that remained the big unknown. Logic suggested it would allow him to cast spells, but what exactly did that mean? All furies already had wind magic. Gaining more wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Though, on the other hand, it could turn out to be a huge advantage.

The sword is only good for attack, Palag thought. The shield—only for defense. Maybe the staff is somewhere in-between?

Not made exclusively for attack or defense, but combining both… That would explain why it was placed between them.

The more Palag thought, the more he considered that to be the correct choice. So, in the end, he stepped forward and took the staff from the wall.

 

 

When Palag next blinked, he was back in the real world, his hand on the awakening altar. As much as the room was the same, it was also different. Purple lines were visible everywhere, glowing beneath the walls and floor. One of the seven hexagonal prisms that composed the altar had also changed color, turning bright purple.

“There’s no need to hurry,” the woman said as she slowly approached. “Take a while to rest.”

“What happened?” the fury asked.

“Nothing for you to worry about.” She grabbed him by the hand. “It’s all just a bad dream. Everything will be a lot clearer in a bit.”

“Why is everything purple?”

The woman froze still. This wasn’t a question he was supposed to ask. All the past times, Palag had ended up dazed and confused. Normally, he’d lose all memory of his visit in a matter of minutes, only to go through it all again in a few days. This time, that hadn’t been the case.

“You’re awakened,” the woman whispered in reverence.

“Yes. The Moon said I could.” Palag allowed himself a smile. “But he didn’t tell me what to do now that I’m awakened. Do you know?” he looked at her for advice.

For the first time since he’d been here, a member of the Order didn’t have an answer.