Grand Saint Alloy

Twelve-year-old Tristan looked up at his parents. They smiled at him as if to comfort him, not that it was necessary. Today was going to mark his thirteenth birthday, the day when all children learned about their about their kern and would earn their place in the world.

Looking to his left he gazed at his mother, he wouldn’t mind inheriting her flame kern. She was well known as one of the most dominant flame users in the Forest Caldera. Standing at the peak of the second tier, only a handful of people in the clan stronghold could challenge her. Being part of the manager caste, it was a massive accomplishment.

Tristan glanced over his other shoulder. His father who also bore the name Tristan stood to his right. He was not part of the head family originally, however, when he made a name for himself against Forest Caldera, they married him into the family. Many years ago he had saved Tristan's mother from kidnappers The method used earned him the name Shadow Fist, which he bore with pride.

Elder Forest had decided to raise Shadow Fist’s caste from worker to manager. The resources he acquired allowed him to grow from a tier one kern to a tier two kern. He was more of an enforcer than a manager, keeping order from the shadows. At least that is how Tristan saw it.

All this was to say, Tristan thought he had a pretty good chance of inheriting an incredible kern. He could get his mother's talents and be the envy of the entire clan. Maybe he would get his father’s and be the hidden blade of the Forest Caldera. The option he was really hoping for was black flame. Half-kerns did occur on occasion and it didn’t necessarily make one stronger, but black fire would look awesome.

They stepped into the Central Caldera. There were hundreds of other young people all waiting for a chance to get their kerns read by the elders. The elders were the leaders of the tribes and this is the one time a year they would gather without bloodshed. The tribes, or calderas, were not enemies, but they were not friends.

Their whole civilization was set inside a basin atop a mountain, and all the cities were forced to work together by a common background and a common enemy. The edge of this basin was reinforced by a massive stone wall that kept the surrounding beasts at bay. Tristan hoped that he could see some of these mythical creatures someday, but that was a small chance.

Every year the six elders would gather to initiate the new generation. They used an ancient artifact to facilitate this. A chalice left behind by the Grand Ancestor, the leader who founded their civilization. Currently, those elders were arguing about something in front of the stage where a cloth was draped over a podium.

With nothing going on to occupy him, Tristan looked around for one of his friends. Harp was turning thirteen as well, and they had been friends since childhood. Her family was from the manager caste as well so their parents knew each other, though Tristan’s parents were in city management and Harps oversaw agriculture.

He stood on his tiptoes to find his friend. Despite hitting his growth spurt early Tristan was still shorter than the majority of the adults. It did not help that Harp and her family were also on the shorter side. Being the nephew of the elder of the Forest Caldera, he was near the front while Harp would be somewhere in the middle.

Shadow Fist tapped Tristan on the shoulder, “Focus, eyes foreword.”

Tristan looked back at the elders, only to find them gone. They had moved around to the right side of the stage and were currently climbing the steps on the side. In order of seniority, they stepped on the stage. The oldest was the Elder River, who led to the River Caldera. He wore blue robes that matched his water kern. Tristan’s uncle, Elder Forest brought up the rear as the youngest, he had red robes that matched the color of flame.

They lined up behind the podium. When all were in position Elder River removed the cloth revealing a black goblet made of some sort of obsidian. Tristan caught his breath, the Grand Ancestor’s artifact was much larger than he had expected. It rested on a raised pedestal, sitting at about hip height and a black fog wafted up from whatever liquid was inside. The lip of the goblet was almost even with Tristan’s chin, making it the biggest cup he had ever seen.

The elder of the River Caldera clapped his hands. He had a water kern, which was not the most adept at making loud noises, so he had to clap several times to get all the teen's attention. The hubbub of the crowd died down by the second clap and was silent by the third.

River cleared his throat before speaking, “Ahem, parents I hope you have educated your children well, but on the chance that you were reticent in your duties I will educate you.”

“These Caldera’s were refuges in a distant past. You see the world outside this bowl is inhospitable and lethal. Demons with silver blood and monsters of stone fought against the world at the command of the tyrant of the earth. The world burned, and heroes fought and bled against the devils of steel. Many died and victory was reached at the cost of many heroes.”

River looked around somberly, Tristan could almost believe that he actually felt something about these ancient events. The story continued, “Was there a time of peace? No. The men of valor were focused on slaying men, not beasts. In that brief lapse in judgment, mythical beasts appeared. They drove mankind out of their cities, out of their lands, and made us outcasts in our own world!”

Tristan knew what came next, “A legion of men under the Hero Sai founded the Caldera. His five lords became the patriarchs of what is now the Great Caldera and its five great cities. We now faithfully guard its borders, keeping the beasts out.”

The elder of the Plain Caldera glared at Elder Grass from the Grass Caldera. The two had originally been one caldera, until a feud got out of control, and gave birth to the sixth caldera. It was a recent enough event for Tristan to remember it occurring so enmities had not been given time to settle.

River’s somber expression was replaced with a determined one, “You children are the next generation. Most of you will be workers, some will be managers, and a few powerful individuals here will be warriors, the backbone of our army.”

Tristan was currently part of the manager caste. The only warrior caste he had met before today was Elder Forest. He knew most warriors possessed a tier three kern, easily placing them in the realm of superhuman. He indulged in a fantasy about being a third tier, but that was unlikely. It was more common for a child to be at or below their parent's tier potential.

It was possible to use artifacts like the Abyssal Chalice to increase the capacity of your kern by pressing elemental energy into it. However, an artifact like the Abyssal Chalice was so strong that it was more likely to simply pop the kern. It was really only an option for the very wealthy or the very lucky. Tristan, as part of the head family, fell into both categories.

River continued, “Now children, as you know, your kern is your heart. It is where you hold your power and the method by which you fill your blood with the elements. Today we will determine the natural potential and element of that kern. So, please make an orderly line to the right of the stand we will wave you and your parents up when we are ready for you. “

A line was forming to the right of the stage and several teens from the River Caldera were already there. Tristan was in a rush. He pulled both his parents along, though, had they been unwilling he would not have been able to pull them anywhere. They were just as eager as he was. His raw excitement and long stride put them close to the front of the line.

With only three people before him, he waited impatiently for his turn. Fire or darkness both seemed awesome and he would be happy with either. Tristan’s future looked bright.