Elwin raced across the thundering heavens and called down a bolt of lightning so powerful that it shook the fabric of the world. It struck a figure enrobed in the deepest black, which by all means should have maimed him, but it was not so; no warning came as the figure of absolute darkness clawed at the world with a roar of utter discord, turning the air into talons of unfathomable proportion through the sky, sundering the mountains, slicing the tops clean off their bodies. The terrible wail of the living earth in its pain pierced Elwin’s ears, and the fuligin figure chanted once again, the talons this time rending Elwin’s right leg clean off its sockets.

My people!

Elwin looked back towards the Sacred Mountain behind him, the final bastion of hope which held the last of humankind, but it was untouched, impervious to that spellsong that had fractured the world, standing tall and mighty. The MAHA of all MAHA, AETERNITAS, was with him. Sensing hope glimmer in Elwin’s heart, the figure shrouded in shadow lunged at him again, splitting space into two in his wake, and Elwin braced and prepared for the worst, when –

A single tock from his pocket watch pierced the dreamworld.

Elwin sat up, wide-awake, heaving.

What was that?

Why was I fighting?

Who was I fighting?

Who... was I?

The dream was so vivid that he pinched himself to make sure he’d awakened. It was just like that night of his first coming of age, when he discovered his Maht was Water.

Elwin looked at the pocket watch, left by the bedside table. It read half-past five.

Slowly the memories of the day before came back to him. Today, the whole family would travel downtown to the tailor to fit his uniform for Aeternitas.

But something told his soul in that darkest limbo before the dawn that the world-lines of his future had forever changed; and so were the lives of everyone around him, for better, and for worse.

* * *

“Welcome to Angelo’s, young sirs and madam. Which occasion brings you to our establishment today?” The bright and youthful apprentice tailor shook their hands.

“It’s for this,” said Elwin, pulling out the gold coin with the symbol of Aeternitas.

The young apprentice’s eyes widened in recognition. “Please, allow me to guide you.”

Elwin, Anna, and Andre were led through the large and ornate front storeside of Angelo’s, into a back door, and a dimly lit passageway. At the end of the passageway was yet another door, but with a young man and woman, who opened it for them; then all of them came out into an exquisite waiting chamber of burgundy and gold, with chairs of the finest and most fragrant wood. The place was scented with a citrine perfume.

Stolen story; please report.

A sharply-dressed middle aged gentleman, bald with an impeccably maintained handlebar moustache and round spectacles, emerged from the side door of the waiting chamber and eagerly shook their hands.

“Welcome, welcome. I am Angelo Giovanni. I see your occasion today is for Aeternitas?” he asked, looking at Elwin.

“It is indeed,” he replied, handing tailor Giovanni the gold coin sigil.

“Ah! First-year! It is an honor. May I request that madam and the young sir wait in this waiting area? Please, Monsieur Elwin Eramir, allow me to lead you to the fitting chambers.” Elwin was surprised the tailor knew his name, but soon realized why: inscribed upon the gold coin were tiny letters in his name, almost imperceptible.

Anna and Andre sat and waited behind as two waiters dressed in fine tuxedos brought out exquisite teapots and cups along with a platter of the finest confections, played to the tune of gentle music through the sonogram. They were in great company.

Elwin was led through yet another series of doors to a fine, spacious room with rich silks and clothes of velvet, along with measuring and sewing instruments of the brightest gold. Elwin had never witnessed such opulence before; even the Grand Library months back was nothing compared to this.

“Is this a matter only for the admitted Artens?”

“Yes, M. Eramir. By Aeternitas tradition, parents or other family members are not permitted into the fitting chamber. This occasion is specifically reserved for you; only your vision and will shall have influence. With this, you can rest assured the uniform is entirely of your own decision.”

Mr. Angelo Giovanni skillfully measured his shoulders, chest, waist, arms, hands, feet, and even the circumference of his neck and head along with the dimensions of his height, folding and unfolding instruments using bursts of air. Elwin’s hair flew this way and that in the calculated breezes; they were almost too fast to track with the eyes.

“Please enlighten me, M. Eramir. What is your Maht?”

“Water.”

“Water, a fine Element indeed. It is best that the color of the clothes reflect one’s affinity with their Maht. May I interest you in a choice of blue and cerulean colors for the shade of your uniform?”

“Yes, please.”

Mr. Giovanni gracefully brought out the stands of multicolored fabrics with the wrist-motions of his Quan. He carefully folded out a distinct shade of blue and recommended it to Elwin, so he could see it more closely.

“This blue is that of ultramarine, derived from the fine powder of lapis. Bright, powerful, but a little garish.” He was right. The color was exquisite indeed, but it lacked the gravity that Elwin had in his mind when thinking of blue. So he passed.

“This other blue is coastal cerulean. Clear, crystal, and beautiful like the shores of the Mare Lumière catching the glint of the summer sun. Very bright if you wish to stand out amongst the crowd.”

“This blue is that of the sky. Less saturated with no hints of other shades, and very clear indeed. A gentle color for a gentleman, who conceals no ill in his conscience.”

The tailor went on and on. Elwin didn’t know so many different shades of blue ever existed. Every single one had their own unique flavor, a different way to showcase the personality of the wearer. Since the cuts of the uniforms were standardized indeed, color and accessories were the only ways to customize one’s specific appearance.

“Ah, and this last one, I must say, it is a quiet but bold statement. Behold, the Admiral’s Legacy,” said the tailor, handing Elwin a soft-silken fabric dyed a deep navy blue with a faint hint of deep green. He held it out next to his head in the mirror; to his surprise, the combination of his cream-tangerine hair and the Admiral’s Legacy that the tailor esteemed complemented each other in an unspoken harmony. Elwin knew this color was the one.

“I would like to pick the Admiral’s Legacy, please.”

“And so it shall be, Monsieur Eramir.”

“When could we expect to pick up the finished uniforms?”

“We shall perform a rush order at no charge to you. Complimentary of Angelo’s,” the tailor said, giving a gentleman’s bow. “The coming Yanadeya shall be an opportune time for collection, so you would have ample leisure to try them on and prepare for your embarkation to Aeternitas.”

“Thank you for the help,” said Elwin, as Mr. Angelo Giovanni led him out of the fitting rooms into the waiting chamber outside.

“It is an honor, Monsieur Elwin Eramir, for having served you on this momentous occasion. I hope to see you again for the services of our establishment. Sirs and madam, may the FOUNDERS be with you.” Mr. Angelo gave a deep, long bow, and so did Elwin. They exited out the narrow passageways and onto the storefront.

At a turn in a corner of the street, Lucian caught sight of Elwin and his family stroll out of Angelo’s.

He clenched his fists.