An astutely dressed professor with a complexion of sandstone stood up from the Masters’ Table in earnest appreciation. His towering stature and thick muscles were clad in a suit of espresso, and his neck draped with a beige cravat; his hair was sharp and styled like cliffs of limestone out at sea, upon them silver goggles of Terratect design. No one on that table could beat his style of personal presentation, for he certainly looked the coolest out of everyone to his side.

Raising his wine goblet, Professor William happily proclaimed:

“ABOUT TIME, LEONARDO! WE ARE DELIGHTED TO ACCEPT YOU!”

Upon receiving his staff, Leonardo pounded it once on the ground; grains of dust and a deep rumble accompanied its haft like a sandstorm, dissipating only when Leonardo commanded it to.

“At last, Eagle Watcher Hina Asakura, as the voice and guardian of the champions, you are given the honor of being the fourth to choose your House. May it be blessed.” Professor Aionia gave the turquoise-haired Viatira a reassuring smile.

“Did you hear that? She must be from Heian!” whispered Katherine, gently poking Mirai. She looked on with caution yet delight – people from her republic were Artens here, after all!

Hina’s cape of celestian green flowed back like a river of breezes; her hair too seemed to waver in the wind. But there was no natural wind in the dining hall. She stood taller than Sandora did; her repose spoke not of power and raw strength, but an elegant calm and wisdom beyond even the peers that proceeded before her. It was just as Elwin remembered.

Hina spoke quietly and with reserve.

“I choose the House of ARTAIA. May I lift those that need help on my shoulders and give them the courage to move forward.”

A beautiful professor dressed in turquoise with fading cerulean hair arose gently from her seat at the Masters’ Table.

“We are blessed to accept you, Hina. Welcome to the House of ARTAIA.”

“Thank you, Professor Irina.”

Professor Aionia handed Hina a staff of brilliant emerald-opal, with swirling winds and cool mists. It ruffled both of their sleeves and hair in passing.

“BE AS IT MAY, THE WORLD OF TODAY,

THAT CARES LITTLE YET FOR THE CRIES

OF THOSE WHO CALL ITS NAME

WHICH SHEDS NOT A TEAR

FOR THOSE THAT DOTH WEEP,

BRAVE HINA HAS COME,

TO ENTWINE HER LIGHT,

AS BLESSED OF ARTAIA, STARS ON HER BACK.

SING, SING, SING THUS TOGETHER,

THE SONG OF THE HEAVENS,

THE WINDS AND THE TEMPESTS,

RISE HEREBY AS THE ARBITER AND JUDGE,

RESTORE IN THOSE BANISHED, THE COURAGE TO BE HUMAN,

UNCHAIN AND FREE THE DISPOSSESSED THAT AWAIT.

HEAR US, HEAR US, O’ GREAT ARTAIA,

SALVATOR OF THOSE SOULS, TEMPEST-TOSSED,

AMBASSADOR OF BOTH WORLDS, OF MAHN AND FRHI,

AS WE BRIDGE THE WORLD, PAST TO TOMORROW,

PREVAIL, PREVAIL AGAINST THE TORMENT OF FATE,

STEM THE LITANY OF BLOOD FATE DOTH ORDAIN,

AND LIFT US BEYOND THE SHOULDERS OF FOREVER.

RELENTLESS, RELENTLESS, OUR ENDEAVOR SHALL BE,

TIRELESS, TIRELESS, OUR VOICES SHALL SING,

JUST AS YOUR EYES BECAME THE EVERLASTING STARS,

AND STARFALL YOUR HANDS TO FULFILL THE WISHES OF OUR WORLD.”

A deep applause filled the Great Dining Hall. This time there was no banging of tables or rhythms of the foot, no battle-cry or rally to exalt one’s glory. Instead, the enunciation of its lyrics, and the meanings behind them, roused a primordial empathy in those that heard its symphony. Elwin glanced at his kismets, and found commiseration in their eyes like his; but out of a corner of his eye, he saw Lucian turn his gaze away from the House of ARTAIA, as if it stirred in him a wound he wanted to forget.

At last, the ceremony was complete for Sandora’s crew. There were other Viatira behind them of course who had to choose their House, but without the chants and staff reserved for the status of the champions, the rest only took an hour. In this brief respite, Elwin contemplated the headmaster’s words, thinking of who truly he should become.

Headmaster Abraxas was right. In the shadow of these champions, he was but a mere tadpole, with rivers to cross, mountains to climb, and skies to soar, tasks which seemed impossible at a glance. But he was not entirely in that eclipse, for eclipses have to end with time; instead, Elwin was in the penumbra, that limbo of being, where he could see a glimmer of a vast, beautiful sky that could accommodate his wings if he jumped; a chance to prove himself to everyone who ever distrusted and disdained him, a chance to begin again free from the prejudices of the world he faced. He wanted not only to become those champions he saw right now, but to surpass them and overcome them – so long as he trained and worked, glory and fame could be his to keep for all of eternity.

Aeternitas was to be his chance.

* * *

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Mmm, oh my goodness, try this!” exclaimed Isaac, shoving a crispy, fragrant chicken drumstick in Katherine’s face.

“Ow – bl – mmm,” she commented, dusting the peri-spices off her cheek, “this is not bad! Isaaaaaac, use a knife and fork.”

“Erhm?” Isaac looked up from his plate, cheek full of food like a forest squirrel.

Katherine sighed and put the silver-coated cutlery in his hands. He’d never had fare of such variety before ever in his life, so the grand feast after the Ceremony of Initiation was akin to the fare of the MAHA; what they ate in their grand palaces in the heavens. Katherine, on the other hand, had plenty such dishes in her life, so she was scarcely impressed.

Elwin laughed and pointed to Isaac, handing him the napkin.

“Take it easy, Isaac! There’s plenty to go around for everyone.”

“But this is – um, wow, all so very delicious. So much food, not enough time!”

Mirai was also wolfing down all the food she could find, but she was doing it quietly with all the cutlery she could muster, and she held her hand some ways off from her mouth so the others couldn’t see.

“Oh, what’s this, Katherine?” Elwin inquired quizzically.

“This?” she asked, pointing to a specific subsection of her carefully curated plate, ranging from an appetizer of chargrilled oysters, a bisque of king-crab, an olive salad, two main courses, and even a cheese plate with grape juice in a goblet, along with a fine selection of pastries she’d already selected for dessert.

Elwin’s plate, on the other hand, was a rather simple one of roast beef, a grilled and buttered lobster, roast potatoes, and a clam chowder to accompany it. He rarely had steak, so he was eager to try it – along with a scrumptious-looking dish with tomatoes and red vegetables that Katherine had just added to her appetizer list.

“This is Shakshuka, a variation of the hearty vegetable fare in Illium.”

“What’s it made out of?”

“Eggplants, zucchinis, garlic, apples, and tomato sauce. Want to try? Great as meze,” she replied.

“I’d love to.”

She carefully lifted a portion of the dish with a large unused spoon and cupped it into a bowl of bread to give to Elwin.

“What’s a meze?” inquired Isaac, his plate empty, and reaching for more food.

“It means a small appetizer or an accompaniment. And Elwin – wait a moment –” she replied, carefully shooting out a spark of fire with her fingers onto the bread bowl, “it’s better if the zucchinis are slightly more caramelized. It’ll taste sweeter.”

“Thanks.”

“Um, Elwin –” Mirai spoke, “could you pass the steak plate from the grill? The one with the medium-rare flag sticking out on top.”

Katherine’s eyes lit up.

“Medium-rare? You imperial,” teased Katherine.

Mirai blushed a little, wiping away her cheek with a napkin.

“What’s the difference between the – um,” interjected Isaac, “medium-rare and medium and all those words?”

It was Elwin’s time to shine.

“They basically tell you how thoroughly cooked a steak is. The rarer, the less cooked with heat, whereas well-done is when you cook it too thoroughly so it turns, uh, brown.”

“Well explained. I am in the school of belief that cooking a steak completely throughout is a disrespect to the spirit of the cavs,” remarked Katherine.

“Right that. Though my mom always made me eat at least medium and above in doneness because of, you know, rare is dangerous and all that.”

“Eh, dangerous? Perhaps. But it’s a risk I’m willing to take any day.”

“Right!”

Just then, several of the upperclassmen came with a new set of dishes from the dining hall kitchen, suspended above a large container of ice.

“Look and behold first-years, the Watanari of Heian is here!”

“Watanari?” said Mirai, her eyes lifting in astonished mirth.

The upperclassmen carefully placed down a gigantic metal platter of variously assorted raw fish that were arranged into a spiral, each thinly sliced and sorted into color. There were creamy orange ones with thin white stripes that looked to be Lumière salmon, red-looking ones that were almost certainly common tuna, and various others which Elwin couldn’t pinpoint.

“How’d you come by these?” asked Mirai, amazed.

“Ah, you must be from Heian to recognize this dish! It’s been a tradition for the banquet each year, ever since the 39th Headmaster. He decreed that the menu of the banquet be expanded to include dishes from all 17 republics, so Artens could share and celebrate the culture of their home with others. This was shortly after the Unified Mythrisian Republics was founded, after all.”

“Oh, so that’s why we have shakshuka and all these other dishes!” exclaimed Katherine.

Elwin’s had plenty of fish – fried, charred, grilled, battered, steamed – but not raw fish! The prospect of trying fish raw was entirely novel to him. Was it safe enough to eat? Isaac had the same thought too, and looked on with cautious apprehension.

“Are those fish safe to eat raw? I wouldn’t have imagined,” poked Isaac.

“Haha, lay your concern to rest! Chef Rosso said they’ve all been kept frosty cool from the fishmongers at Lumière to the kitchen here.”

“They arrived here by rail?”

“Nope, on the same skycraft that you rode!”

While the two boys appraised the fish with some hesitation, both Mirai and Katherine took to the huge plate with strange sticks of wood as utensils – utensils which Elwin remembered he once saw on a guest from the Empire. Guess the people of Heian used it too!

“What’re those?” asked Isaac.

“‘Amebashi,’” answered Katherine.

“It means ‘bridge to the heavens’ or ‘bridge to the divinities,’ since we’ve used them to offer food for the spirits from a long time ago. You rest them upon your hand like this,” said Mirai, putting a pair in Elwin’s and carefully wrapping his fingers around them. Katherine did the same for Isaac.

It was difficult and awkward to handle them at first; best he could do for now was to stab and pluck the food, but after a few minutes, he’d managed to cautiously lift a piece of the thinly sliced fatty tuna between the two wooden sticks, ever at risk of sliding out and rocketing to the head of a poor first-year next to him.

“Dip it in the yarum first. Gently – only a little – you don’t want it to overwhelm the flavor.”

“Okay.”

Elwin tasted the fish at last.

Elwin closed his eyes, and a symphony of savory fattiness played out on his tongue, dispelling his unease at trying something raw. He’d expected it to be slippery and slimy, but the opposite was true: it was cold and fresh, like no fish he’d ever tasted. He could feel at once the fragrance of the ocean waves and the cool spray of the sunlit sea, and just when he was about to be mesmerized by it, it had already melted in his mouth, making him yearn for that rich, flavorful savoriness again. Never before at The Marlin had he tasted something like this; he was disappointed with himself because of all the years he went without knowing such a dish existed. Imagine how a marlin would have tasted, prepared this way! And as the thoughts brewed in his head, he understood that Aeternitas was truly a place where people from all walks of life gathered united, as his father had said. Cuisine here was an exemplar of that ideal, and every opportunity expanded Elwin’s horizon of knowledge; Elwin felt that the world was now incredibly big beyond measure, a stark reversal from his impression aboard the skycraft.

“What was this called again?” Elwin asked.

“All of this is called Watanari. It’s a dish from Heian – my republic – and also cherished by our neighbors at Gaya and Amakusa.”

“What’s it mean?”

“The translation is awkward since the word came to be used a long time ago but... I think it means ‘harvest of the sea,’ or ‘treasures grown from the waves.”

Isaac warily tried the tuna, but he was also immediately convinced of its flavor in this novel form. He hurriedly tried reaching for all of the Watanari on the metal platter, but Katherine stopped him.

“Ah, ah, Isaac. Slow down. When it comes to food, you’re like a whole another person.”

Elwin remembered Isaac through his letters that he had bread, cheese, and boiled potatoes for every meal since he was little. Having tasted this incredible new dish before him, it was impossible not to empathize with Isaac.

“Aha, my bad. I want to try the orange one now.”

From away on the Masters’ Table, Professor Aionia watched the four kismets and the rest of the first-years with great joy. There were still smiles on their faces, and hope for the next generation.

“Have someone worthy of your attention?” Professor Helen of fire leaned to her side.

“No, not exactly yet. But we shall see.”

“It is an honor to dine in your auspicious presences,” commented Professor Thales, using steam and water to clean his napkin on the spot under a wine-glass. “As capable as they are, the first-years have no idea, do they?”

“I am glad they do not. At least they can be their innocent selves,” Professor Aionia replied, her eyes lingering for a moment on Elwin, the son of Carl Eramir. Memories of what Elwin confided in her and Headmaster Abraxas back at The Marlin – without knowing who they were – surfaced in her momentary reflection.

“Let us hope the champions of this year choose to become the salvator of their generation. There has been no one since... 32 years and counting,” Professor Thales replied.

“We ask too much of our Artens when they’re too young. It weighs my heart for no one should bear such a burden – but there must always be someone to continue the flame,” Professor Irina lamented. “But even if Sandora, Maximus, Leonardo, and Hina – the greatest of the young we’ve seen so far – declined to be, who among the Artens now shall choose that path?”

All the professors and even the headmaster fell silent; they were giants, yes, but crumbling giants of stone they were. They were still powerful and unmatched in the Elemental Arts and as Tanaars, perhaps more than anybody else in the republics – but their zenith had long come and gone, and time had arrived now for new people to take the place and defend their world from evil like they’d done a quarter century ago: A new colossus.

Just who, was the question.

And silently, without their knowledge, a being of the utmost shadow crept unnoticed into Aeternitas among them.