Child of prophecy

06 | Iyan

ANALIA

"IT'S NICE to meet you too Auriana," I turn to face her with a warm smile, just as one of the little girls grabs a hold of my hand.

I try to focus on the sound of my breathing as she pulls me by the hand. I can hear my footsteps as they trudge on the ground and the murmuring around me does nothing to ease my nerves. I'm not terrified of standing in front of demigods, I'm terrified of the possibility they might be able to see through my childlike illusion. The girl comes to a halt and lets go of my hand as we reach the foot of the platform.

I feel like I'm suffocating under the intense gaze of whoever I'm standing in front of. I can see their feet and it looks quite manly. I really hoped to be paired with a demigoddess but I guess that hope has been thrown out of the window.

Curiosity takes the best of me and I find myself raising my head a little, I immediately regret it because I come face to face with soul-piercing brown eyes watching me intensely.

I have never seen someone's eyes so ethereally beautiful. A few strands of his unruly, jet-black hair fall over his face, giving him a slightly disheveled yet luscious look. He manspreads on the makeshift throne he's seated on, as he rests his elbow on the arm of the seat, touching his chin subtly with his fingers in a pensive manner.

He isn't dressed like a demigod; rather, he's dressed in a black satin top that snugs at his biceps, annunciating his well-defined chest, with pants made of leather that have leg straps attached to them.

I know I shouldn't be staring at him, but I can't seem to take my eyes away. I've never found it so hard to stop gawking at a person and I can't tell what he's thinking even as our eyes are locked in silent scrutiny of each other.

He doesn't look a day older than twenty-one.

I quickly avert my eyes and wait patiently for my turn. I can still feel his gaze burning through me. It almost feels like he can see right through my illusion.

After standing for minutes tuning out everything happening around me, one of the little girls walks toward me with a bowl of a black substance which I presume is ink.

Since he hasn't said anything, it simply means he wants me right? Are we going through the whole bonding process?

From my peripheral vision, I see him rise and walk closer to me, causing me to step closer, hoping that I'm doing this the right way. I'm so small that he towers over me completely. I mean, I could be walking and he wouldn't even notice me. He bends over a little as he nears me and I make the mistake of looking at him again.

He smiles wryly as though he knows something. My heart thumps loudly at the idea that he might know I'm disguising myself as a child.

He stretches his hand, all the while maintaining eye contact with me, and the little girl draws a symbol on his hand. I remember Grandma telling me what her symbol looked like-hers, she said was star-shaped. No matter how long I stare at the drawing on the back of his palm, I can't figure out what it's supposed to be.

The little girl moves over to me, and I give her my hand, which she starts to draw on with black ink. I wince slightly at the impact; I didn't expect a drawing to make my hand feel like it was being stabbed into with needles. I look down at the spiral-shaped symbol on the back of my palm. I suppose this is to show that I'm a companion to someone.

The girl wraps a cloth around our hands and mutters in a composed and practiced manner, "You can only take this off when you're ready to depart. May Chrollo and Asha grant you success on your journey." She bows and moves on to the next person.