Aeternitas was a school that had totally escaped Elwin’s sphere of thought before the momentous encounters spurred on two evenings ago. He couldn’t stop thinking about his desperate prayers to the FOUNDERS SERA of the celestial bridge and ARTAIA of the stars, after which everything changed.

Did they hear his prayer? Or was this all a coincidence?

First was the visit of the two distinguished guests, who left him a train ticket to the capital city where the second part of the Aeternitas examinations would be held; second was the revelation that his father had preserved a time capsule all this time, waiting until Elwin was old enough to understand the forces that moved the world and was ready to embark on that grand mission to reforge the lost mythical techniques of the FOUNDERS and their Arts, so that he could forever vanquish the threat to their world; third, when he found out Aeternitas was where he should take the first step; fourth, his near-abduction at the hands of those shrouded men; and finally, his serendipitous rescue at the hands of Artens from Aeternitas, their dignified and conscientious characters and depth of friendship which kindled in Elwin a new fire, who wanted the same for himself. The fact that all roads pointed to Aeternitas didn’t seem like a coincidence.

Except, he was now aware of how tall that summit towered before him.

Everyone, from grandfathers and grandmothers to waddling schoolchildren, knew of the name AETERNITAS NATIONAL ACADEMY and the clout it carried. An utterance of the name by alumni demanded ceaseless respect from those that heard it, along with admiration and envy; far from surprising, since it was the most prestigious institution of learning throughout all of the Republics. It derived its renown not only from its long age, which comfortably exceeded one thousand years, but from the fact that almost every minister, statesman, general, experimental philosopher, inventor, business magnate, national athlete, and Quanmaster of the highest calibre, including nation-founders and some seven presidents out of eighteen, had been produced there.

It was a school to which many pupils at the urging of their families attempted to apply, in the blind and ‘what-if’ hope of fame, money, and a future clear of poverty, but were inevitably denied, because they did not understand that Aeternitas wanted people beyond such material concerns. Only the chosen few – very few indeed – were ever tasked with the honor and the responsibility of becoming one of its Artens. Aeternitas’s only possible rival was the great Tokubetsu Kissei in the Republic of Heian away to the east, but even then, it was always under threat of being eclipsed by the might of Aeternitas as an institution.

From this, Elwin had always thought Aeternitas was out of his calibre of future prospects, especially considering his miserable status at his old district school. But he understood now why his father thought it helpful that Elwin begin his journey there. If his impression of Aeternitas was valid, then he would receive enormous help from kind and like-minded people in reforging those lost Epitomic Forms for the Arts, and battle together against evil; Sandora, Leonardo, and Hina all seemed incredibly adept at their Maht even as first-years at the Academy. What better place was there for meeting and gleaning wisdom from those who were at the pinnacle of everyone else when it came to the Elemental Arts?

But there was another reason far more dear to Elwin. It was that he tasted what it was to have friends, to meet those that accepted him and recognized the worth of his being. At Aeternitas, he could make friends of his own just like the upperclassmen he saw.

And though Elwin loved his mother and brother, he sorely felt that his destiny lay beyond The Marlin and out there in the wider world. The life he presently lived was one that was crushed by the constraints of circumstance: dealing with rowdy inebriated customers who knew no respect nor decorum, cleaning up after their careless spills and vomit, serving to their needs without dignity of his own to scrape up enough money for the next day, just because this was the only way they could live without losing everything. It was like trying to fill a broken bottle, and it suffocated him.

If he stayed here, he would have to lead the life of an ant. And the last thing he wanted was to lead the life of an ant. He wished to soar into that endless sky like a bird of prey and touch the very stars, because he tasted what it was like when he ventured out into the ocean with his father. He wanted not to resign himself as a cog in a machine; he wanted to be the designer of that machine.

And Aeternitas was where he could reset his past and start completely anew. He would be freed from the prejudices of those in his old school; be freed from Lucian’s endless torment; he could build a brand new reputation for himself, be loved, be respected, and finally become the person he wanted to be, even if the image of his future self wasn’t fully formed.

Now more than ever, was his chance.

“Mom, I’m going to apply to Aeternitas. And from today, I’ll prepare for it.”

Anna looked at her son. There was a newfound determination in his eye and expression, altogether different from his world-weariness three days ago. She knew well what had come over him, and briefly saw the striking visage of Carl in that expression of Elwin. But she gleaned an ambition even higher still, an ambition that could only be stoked by his circumstance. There was a drive, a force, that carried with it the roaring Sun and the mightiness of the tides, a will to reinvent oneself.

She had been waiting for this moment, and she would help him take it.

“And I will support you, all the way to the stars.”

* * *

Elwin had spent every free waking hour preparing for the first portion of the entrance examinations: the written examination that will filter out the 50 people from each republic to be sent to the capital city for the second and final test.

Because there were 17 republics altogether, a total of 850 prospective applicants were selected for the token of passage among the tens of thousands that applied. And from those 850, barely 160 – not even a quarter – was ever admitted each year because the second exam was so difficult. Elwin knew that he needed to thread the needle on both of these arduous hurdles, so he resolved to prepare the best he could.

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Books that revised his understanding and skills in literature, numeracy, experimental philosophy, and history were just the starters. Elwin perused practical books on the Art of Water in great depth, and applied his findings and techniques during his work at The Marlin with feverish passion, propelled by his newfound purpose. What began as an effort to get into Aeternitas proved unexpectedly useful everywhere else. He curtly ignored the sadistic attempts on his body and spirit at his old school; lost in his books and the Arts, he barely noticed as the snow came and went, frost retreated for the coming of spring, and flowers blossomed and prepared their fruit, his thoughts punctuated only by the reminiscence of his time with the upperclassmen of Aeternitas. They said they were going to do their best in the tournament; did they become the champions? He wished for goodness to come to them, and wondered whether they remembered him half a year on.

Eventually, when spring was to hand its baton to summer, the momentous day came of the first examination. It was held at the great City Hall itself, repurposed entirely for Aeternitas seeking its candidates; it was like this every year, and cities of every republic accommodated the examinations in a similar fashion. Such was the status of Aeternitas.

Elwin marched into that exam hall, ready to take on whatever was thrown to him, his knapsack full of ink bottles and finely cut graphite pieces, more than necessary, ready for any accident, any writing mishap. His dreary days at his unwelcoming middle school were finally over the week before, having finished the final year of official schooling as required by law; he had no more need to attend it, or be forced to see the faces of those who tormented him.

But he wasn’t as free as he thought.

“So, you made it here, after all,” muttered Lucian, eyeing Elwin coldly.

Neither of them expected the other to be there. In fact, each hoped that the other wouldn't be there.

The two boys stood silently, eyeing each other, their fists clenched. If the throng of some one thousand applicants in the exam hall lobbies and hallways were not so preoccupied with their own success, they would have noticed the aura of incredible antagonism between the two.

“You’ll fail just as you always do. Everyone knows it,” spat Lucian.

“Then talk to my back, just as you always do,” declared Elwin rather coolly, turning his back, cutting him out and walking away. He wasn’t going to let Lucian intimidate him or occupy his thoughts today. But despite the cold and neutral tone he’d given, Elwin wished that Lucian, for just once, would not interfere with him through some conspiracy or falsehood. So it was a relief for Elwin to see that Lucian had been assigned to a separate chamber to take the written test.

At first, the written exam appeared simple. But as he worked his way down the long paper of questions, he discovered that they rapidly scaled up in difficulty. The exam hall was arduously quiet in that special sense – the hurried scribbling of graphite, the splashes of pen ink from some poor fool who knocked the bottle over their desk, the crisp turning of leaflets – all of it generated an inexpressible tension in the air that Elwin could feel. But of course, he paid little notice of it in the world of his mind.

In the world of his mind, Elwin was battling monsters. What began as simple creatures that personified each question were now transmogrified into monstrous beings of spirit, malice, and trickery with scaling difficulty. Elwin sliced through them, pummeled them, noticed their feints and dodged their tricky blows, the problem-solving know-how he’d honed for the past half a year guiding his hands, legs, body, and spirit, his giant sword and staff the knowledge he’d amassed up to this point, whetted to a sharpened edge and lustrous tip. With each monster that appeared he’d size it up, observe its weaknesses and any blunders, and with a decisive calculation take it down in the best way he figured how. All was going well until the very final question.

It was the numeracy question that Mr. Sadis had posed him on that fateful date half a year ago.

Immediately the question in his mind turned to that of an eldritch serpent of enormous proportions, its three heads of hydra growing racks of gleaming, serrated teeth. Its luminous crimson eyes returned, no, blew back Elwin’s own gaze which attempted to size it up in vain. It put down one of its hindlegs, and the ground split, the oceans shook, and cracks of thunder and lightning lit up the sky. Elwin tried to land one strike, but the monstrous question’s scales were as hard as diamond. With a single whip of its mighty tail, the hydra slapped Elwin hard across the torso and flung him into an outcrop. Elwin felt his entire head shudder at the blow he’d taken. He desperately tried to remember the correct answer that Lucian had given Mr. Sadis, and how he’d arrived there, but instead of giving him an opening to attack, the hydra grew a pair of two heads – Lucian and Mr. Sadis, jeering and snapping away at his tiny figure, perched upon a lonely rock on an open ocean. No, Elwin had to tackle the question step-by-step, foundation from foundation. He’d need to rearrange the formula and the equations and the –

“You have five minutes remaining!” announced the proctor, in a shrill cry.

There simply was no time. What was the key to deciphering this question? What? Just what was it? Please... please! As he stood thinking in the world of his mind, his heart racing, frozen with fear, a comforting hand gripped his palm. He looked up.

It was his father. He was just as Elwin remembered him. He raised his spectacles and spoke with calm, looking at the hydra just ahead.

“The key can be found in the simplest of places,” he spoke.

When Elwin looked again, his father had disappeared. Elwin took a cool breath and took a confident pose, his mind’s eye clear. He looked again.

Yes, from the beginning, there was something odd about this question. It was a question that required the caliber of actual experimental philosophers, and thus one that appeared too difficult for pupils his age. But what if the question was difficult to those who tried to solve the problem with the way they’ve been taught? What if there was some other, much simpler way, a way schools refused to teach? His father always told him on the hunt that there was often more than just one way to solve a problem, and so did Sandora.

And that’s when Elwin pierced the veil of illusion. The key to the question lay in the simple realization that behind all those diagrams, the circles, the triangles, the suggested equations, there was one very simple truth – all of them were drawn out of proportion, and unnecessary to the problem – and it had been the conflict of his common sense and all those suggested equations and diagrams that had been holding him at an impasse. He drew the diagram again to the written specifications, and there it was – it could be dealt with a single equation from his childhood – the distance formula he and his dad used while trying to judge the distances of fish while at sea. Elwin had found his own way – his method now was not something of the complicated variety that Lucian had used back then.

Immediately, the heart of the hydra glowed bright and red amidst its torso. It tried desperately to hide it, but it was too late – Elwin picked up his sword, his staff, his spear of ocean-ice, and raced towards the hydra with all his might. The hydra snapped at Elwin with its various heads, but Elwin blew it away with the simplest strokes of his sword, they shall be distractions no more – and with great confidence and assured movement of his body, struck the heart of the hydra with his spear and drove it deep. The hydra wailed a cry of resounding defeat, and its form dissipated into nothing more than a cloud of smoke. It was done.

“Time is up!” declared the proctor.