‘I place the materia of silver,’ he intoned.
The magus held up a piece of silver, the same shape and size as the gold. After displaying it to the crowd, he crossed the diamond and his knees cracked as he bent down to place the silver at the intersection opposite the gold, closest to Dion.
He returned to the center and called out again. ‘I place the materia of copper.’
The magus reached into his robe and withdrew a lump of pure copper, the red color reflecting the flickering light as he showed it to the assembled gathering. He placed the copper at the intersection of lines on the diamond’s right-hand side.
‘I place the materia of iron.’
Dion sensed his brother tense beside him. The magus held out a nugget of black iron that matched the color of his robe, for he was a priest of Balal. He spent a little longer showing the iron to the group, before setting down the final piece of pure metal at the last intersection of points, on Dion and Nikolas’s left.
Even though he was the boy’s father, Nikolas wasn’t allowed to participate in the ceremony in any way. Of course, over the last days, he had taken counsel with the priests, and given counsel to his young son. But anything might happen: Dion’s experience at his own naming ceremony was proof of that.
The magus stood once more in the center of the diamond with the four materia at each point. The gold and silver were deliberately far from the center, whereas if the magus stretched out his arms, he could almost touch the more common copper and iron, at the diamond’s closer points.
He turned slowly until he was facing Nikolas’s son. ‘Boy, I will now use your child name for the last time. Come to me, Luni.’
The onlookers held their breath as they waited for the boy to move. Dion smiled as he saw Helena give her son a slight push from behind.
Luni struggled with his costume but began to walk to the magus, staring the entire time in captivated fear at the old priest, who never ceased to appear stern and unyielding. The boy crossed the floor with hesitant steps as his parents urged him on with their eyes. Even Dion breathed a sigh of relief when Luni reached the center of the diamond and came to a halt beside the old man. Occasionally a parent had to intervene to take their child to the magus, but this wasn’t considered a good omen.
‘Child,’ the magus called. ‘We magi have called on the gods to choose for you the path that you will take in life.’
He looked at the tip of the diamond farthest from Dion. ‘Gold will lead you to a life of leadership, nobility, charisma, and power.’
Dion couldn’t help but wonder how often the magi chose gold for a peasant boy, whose parents would never be able to afford his necklace, let alone his round medallion.
‘Silver is the materia of the winds of fortune and the tides of commerce.’ The magus gazed at the nugget of silver.
‘Copper stands for music and beauty, craftsmanship, and the arts of healing.’ Dion could see why the copper and iron were closest to the magus and the boy beside him, for they were by far the most common metals chosen.
‘Finally’—the magus turned again—‘iron leads to the path of the warrior and the farmer, the mason, the smith, and the miner.’
Luni looked fearfully at his mother and then turned again to stare with confusion at his father. Nikolas struggled to keep his face impassive.
‘The gods have made their choice,’ the magus intoned.
He left the boy standing in the middle of the diamond and then stepped outside the lines of white chalk.
Walking with his slow shuffling steps, the magus now circled the diamond three times. The seven-year-old child now watched the magus; everyone else in the room was utterly still.
The magus stopped. He was standing outside the lump of iron.
‘The gods have chosen iron,’ the magus said, his thin lips creasing in a smile.
Nikolas was unable to hide a sigh of relief. Glancing across the room, Dion saw that the king was now standing, fists clenched at his sides, but he was beaming.
Yet the ceremony wasn’t over. There was one final part for the child to play.
‘I name you Lukas,’ the magus said. His parents would have supplied the name, but it was the first time anyone else in the room had heard it.
‘Lukas,’ Dion mouthed. His nephew. He decided he liked the name.
‘Come, Lukas,’ the magus said, still standing near the lump of iron. ‘Come to claim iron.’
The smile fell from Nikolas’s face and he tensed once more. But his son knew what to do, and he walked to the magus, knelt at the corner of the diamond, and picked up the lump of iron.
Nikolas whooped as a resounding cheer filled the room. Helena wiped her eyes as she and Thea embraced. King Markos shook hands with the men around him.
‘Lukas is a fitting name. The gods chose rightly,’ Dion said as he turned and clapped his brother on the back.