Chapter 1: Prophet’s Son
"Pray to the goddess Astrea."
The room was filled with the soft murmurs of prayer, the air thick with the scent of burning incense. The villagers knelt before the goddess, their eyes closed in reverence. It wasn't a statue they were praying to, but a humble fragment of stone, said to hold the essence of Astrea herself.
At the front of the room stood the priest, a man of quiet dignity, his robes adorned with symbols of prosperity. The villagers called him a prophet, but to them, he was more—a guide, a healer, and a beacon of hope.
As the session drew to a close, the prophet turned to the congregation, his voice warm and reassuring. "Thank you, my dear friends, for joining us today. Your devotion to Astrea does not go unnoticed."
The villagers rose from their knees, their faces glowing with a mix of reverence and curiosity. They approached the prophet, seeking his blessings and words of wisdom. Once the last of the blessings had been bestowed, the prophet raised his hands, signaling for silence.
"I have good news to share with you all," he announced, a rare smile lighting up his usually solemn face.
The room buzzed with excitement. "What is it, Prophet?" asked an elderly woman, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
The prophet's smile widened. "Do you remember the exam my son, Xavier, took last month?"
Nods and murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. The prophet continued, "He has passed with flying colors and has received a scholarship to enroll in the prestigious Astraeus Academy."
A cheer erupted from the villagers, and the name "Xavier" echoed through the room. But the young man was nowhere to be seen.
A small boy, no older than seven, tugged at the prophet's robe. "Prophet, Xavier is not here. He's skipping the prayers again, trying to lift weights."