The carriage raced along the narrow path. Martin's body bounced with every rut. He clutched his bundle, his heart rising and falling with the hopes his parents had placed on him. He had left the village where he had lived for fifteen years.
The distance to the county town was considerable. Martin gradually fell asleep. After an unknown time, he felt a gentle push and opened his eyes. Uncle Frederick smiled at him. "Allen, first time leaving home. How do you feel?"
Martin noticed the carriage had stopped. He smiled naively. "I don't know. I'm a little scared. I don't know if the holy monks will take me."
Frederick laughed heartily and patted his shoulder. "Don't overthink it. We're here. This is my home. Get some rest. Tomorrow morning I'll take you to the family estate."
After getting off the carriage, Martin saw a row of tile-roofed houses. He followed his uncle to a room, sat on the bed, but couldn't sleep. Scenes flashed through his mind: his parents, the villagers, the relatives' words. He sighed softly. The desire to be accepted burned even stronger.
Time passed slowly. Dawn came. The sun rose. Though Martin had hardly rested, he felt energetic. With a mix of anxiety, he followed his uncle to the Lynn family's great manor.
It was the largest house Martin had ever seen. His eyes were dazzled. His uncle sighed as they walked. "Allen, make your father proud. Don't let the relatives laugh at us."
Martin grew more nervous, biting his lower lip. He nodded.
Soon, Frederick led him to a large courtyard in the center of the manor. Victor, the old man who was Thomas's older brother, stood there. He saw Martin and nodded slightly. "Martin, when the holy monks arrive, don't be surprised. Do everything your cousin Sebastian does. Watch him and imitate him, understand?"
The last words were stern.
Martin remained silent and looked around. Besides Sebastian, there was another youth. He had dark skin, a tigerish face, and a clever look. Something bulged under his clothes. He saw Martin looking at him, made a face, and ran over. "You're Martin from Uncle Thomas's family, right? I'm Raymond Lynn."
Martin smiled slightly and nodded.
Victor was annoyed that Martin ignored him and was about to scold him when—
Suddenly, clouds drifted across the sky. A beam of sword-light tore through the air. When the light faded, a young man in white robes stood on the ground. His eyes were bright and cold, exuding an ethereal aura. He glanced at the three youths, pausing briefly at the bulge under Raymond's clothes. "Are these the three recommended by the Lynn family?"
So this is a holy monk. Under that gaze, Martin felt a chill run through him. His heart pounded uncontrollably. His face paled, and he stared dumbfounded.
Raymond also stood stiffly, hands at his sides, gazing with fervent admiration.
Only Sebastian looked at the monk casually and gave a light snort.
Victor hurried forward, trembling with respect. "Holy father, these are the three chosen by the Lynn family."
The young man nodded impatiently. "Who is Sebastian Lynn?"
Victor's face lit up. He quickly pulled Sebastian forward. "Holy father, this is my son, Sebastian."
The monk studied Sebastian carefully, then his expression softened. He nodded. "Brother Sebastian is indeed handsome. No wonder Father Theophilus chose you."
Sebastian looked proudly at Martin and Raymond. "Of course. My affinity for the holy light has been praised by Father Theophilus."
The monk frowned but quickly relaxed, gave Sebastian a knowing look, then swept his sleeve. The three youths felt themselves lifted into the clouds, turning into a beam of light that vanished instantly.
Frederick stared at the sky and muttered, "Allen, be chosen…"
Martin felt his body become light. Strong wind stung his face. He looked down and saw that he was tucked under the monk's arm, flying swiftly through the air. The villages below became tiny dots moving backward.
His eyes soon turned red and teary from the wind.
"Close your eyes if you don't want to go blind," the monk's cold voice came. Martin trembled and shut his eyes tightly. His desire to become a holy monk grew even stronger.
After a while, the monk began to breathe harder, and his speed decreased. Then the world spun, and the monk descended quickly. Upon landing, he released his arm, and the three youths tumbled to the ground.
They quickly scrambled up. Before them was a paradise: green hills, clear waters, birds singing, flowers fragrant. A towering peak rose into the clouds, its details hidden. A winding stone stairway snaked down the mountain like a painting. A sense of detachment arose.
Far above, on the peak, a great hall could be seen, shimmering with colorful light, inspiring worship. Beside it, a stone bridge curved like a crescent moon into the clouds, connecting to another peak.
This was the seat of St. Helman's Abbey. Five hundred years ago, it had been the foremost holy power in the Kingdom of Frankonia, with several saints. But after many calamities, it had declined to barely hold its place. Nevertheless, to the mortals within thousands of miles, it was still an unattainable paradise.
"Brother Gerald, are these the three recommended by the Lynn family?" A middle-aged man in black robes floated down from the mountain, exuding an air of sanctity.
The young monk showed respect. "Brother Malachi, yes, these are the three."
The middle-aged man looked them over, focusing on Sebastian. He smiled. "The Abbot knows you are at a critical stage in your training. I will conduct the tests. Go cultivate."
Gerald nodded, moved his body, and disappeared up the path.
Martin stared in awe, his heart surging. Someone tugged his sleeve. It was Raymond, whose eyes burned with fervor. "This is where the holy monks live. I, Raymond Lynn, swear I will be chosen." He patted the bulge under his clothes.