No... he was just a conductor being a conductor, who was happy to delight others with his courtesy. Seldom were strangers friendly to Elwin. But perhaps... they weren’t all that bad. They weren’t all out to get him like those at his school. The fortress he built in his mind to keep people out cautiously opened its gates to the world.
Elwin, smiling for the first time in a long while, did a little salute his father always used to make, and returned to peer outside the shimmering window. He once told Elwin that tram windows made great philosophy teachers, and Elwin was beginning to understand why. As he looked out to observe the everyday lives of the city which he thought he knew but realized now he never had, a flurry of questions and imaginations flew through his mind. What would that person’s life be like? What about the Astral Knight? Could he be one of these people outside? Who were the great people behind this tram? That awe-inspiring building? That contraption? Those who landscaped the trees? Where did those trees come from? How do those hornbeam trees have such a fascinating and otherworldly shape, exactly like he saw in children’s books of old?
Elwin even thought up some imaginary stick figure friends racing outside along with the tram, dodging and avoiding obstacles with their great skill in parcour, some using jets of fire from their feet to jump, and others skating on frozen puddles of ice. He imagined the Astral Knight among them, swinging atop the trees and rooftops, as if from a dream of yesterday night. How wonderful it’d be if he could have such friends in reality.
By now, it had been more than an hour, and the boulevards were giving way to even more spacious avenues. Serious buildings with imposing pillars and classical columns in marble rounded the great open spaces, and various ornate restaurants and coffeehouses with red parasols painted the spaces between them. People were dressed more exquisitely and variedly here, with attire similar to what he saw on Dr. Hana and Dr. Braus. But that wasn’t to say that there were no people dressed moderately like those in Elwin’s enclave to the northwest. Even here, there were workers, artisans and those selling newspapers and flowers, and people from all walks of life.
“Next stop, Kosmogorov Circle!” the conductor announced, as the tram headed on to clear the avenue and the building to the right. They came to a wide open space where the roads themselves were of the most brilliant marble, and several other trams were circling by. There was a large statue of a bearded figure, holding instruments of experimental philosophy in one hand and a book in the other, pointing heroically towards the direction of the sunlit sea. The beaker and sextant in his hand shone a golden gleam, and the book and telescope with engraved words indicated this statued figure as Dmitry Kosmogorov, the founding figure of modern experimental philosophy. He was born in the Republic of Ascension, just as Elwin had. Perhaps it was the fact that this republic – this same city, really – was the entrepôt for so much trade and lively discussion that great people like Kosmogorov were able to come about. Experimental philosophy always begins with wisdom and ideas collected from many places, and almost nowhere was better than here, his father once told him.
“Change here to the No. 2 – Orange Line – if you’re heading West. Otherwise, change to the No. 1 – Red Line – if you’re heading South towards Skylark Avenue.”
His anxiety flooded long over by wonder and thrill of someplace new, Elwin alighted the tram, giving a good thanks and smile to the hardworking conductor.
Puah, Elwin breathed in and out. Even the air here smelled so different. The sky was blue and clear with only a few clouds, and the winter sun was gentle upon his face. It was a blessed day for the mission, Elwin thought.
Not soon after, Elwin found himself in the bright orange tram, eagerly anticipating his arrival at the Grand Library. This tram was considerably more spacious, and its compartment was so spotless and slippery-clean that even a fly would have slipped on its smoothed floors; it was a world’s worth of difference compared to the violet tram he’d ridden earlier. The orange line traversed the city center for most of its journey, so it was not all that surprising to those that knew. The affluence of the city core made itself known to even public transport that graced it.
“Next stop, the Grand Library of Ascension,” the posh conductor declared, as the tram cleared the penultimate stop and a gigantic classical building of marble lain with banners of navy and gold came into view, occupying its throne across several city blocks. The banners had the sigil of the Republic of Ascension on it – the waves of the sea with a crescent moon and philosophical instruments on top of both – and on the great outdoor stairs leading to the entrance were a crowd of people of all ages, some his age, most older, and some younger. They must all be on the voyage to quench their thirst for knowledge.
Elwin alighted, and took a good moment to admire the gigantic structure. His father had often said that the wealth of a city could be gleaned from how much it invested into public institutions of knowledge, and that Ascension was at the pinnacle in this regard. He was right. Just the marble columns that supported the outer wall, all seventeen of them, conveyed the might of the third largest republic. To think that every space under that enormous roof was brimming with books and people who could help! Elwin marched courageously into its gates, taking after his father a generation ago.
***
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Where destiny is yours to steer?” reiterated the Grand Bibliothecarius, Dr. Meredith Giovanni.
“Yes, Dr. Giovanni. I’ve looked through the books on the lower floors but I wasn’t able to find their profiles, just their names.”
“Are there any educational institutions like that throughout the Republics that have it as their motto?”
“Part of school homework or personal research?” she asked.
“Personal research.”
The Grand Bibliothecarius raised her spectacles and eyed Elwin curiously.
“May I enquire as to what for?”
Here Elwin was, having courageously marched up to the top floor of the Grand Library where the Grand Bibliothecarius could be found.
An innate apprehension that children have towards authority figures gripped Elwin; he was not yet at the age where he could realize that most adults were in fact just physically bigger and didn’t have everything figured out, despite their airs. Elwin’s heart pounded, but he clenched his fist and answered the Bibliothecarius’s question with dignified composure.
“I’m looking to apply for a few specialized institutions for the Elemental Arts after I graduate next spring from my general school. I wanted to figure out which school was my best fit.”
“Ah, I see. In that case, I can help you with the application process, too. What’s your name?”
Elwin was a little taken aback at the friendliness of the Grand Bibliothecarius, and wondered whether he should just let his guard down and use his real name. But something at the back of his mind reminded him to be cautious, so he decided to use the name that his little brother had made for him.
“I’m Oliver. Oliver Clarke,” he said, feeling guilty.
“It’s nice to meet you, Oliver,” said Dr. Giovanni, as she gave Elwin a warm handshake.
“Let me bring up our catalogue on active educational institutions throughout our Republics.” She waved her own Quan fastened on the wrist and several metal bookcases holding neat encyclopedias drew out from their shelves. She was a metal-wielder just like his mother, Elwin thought. An enormous burden of the unknown slipped from his shoulders, and he relaxed a little.
“A-ha! Here it is. This is the catalogue of all seventy-seven educational institutions of higher learning with their basic background information. If people were waiting, I’d just have you flip through them, but –” said Dr. Giovanni, peering behind Elwin. “Since there’s no one here, I bet it won’t hurt to help you out for now. People are often afraid of coming here for help because they think the title Grand Bibliothecarius means I’m a scary person,” she winked; the ice had broken surprisingly fast.
“Why do they think you’re scary, Dr. Giovanni?”
“Oh, just an impression from the previous Bibliothecarii. They were very serious all the time, and they were very gruffy. I sincerely hope I do not give people such an impression. We are guardians of knowledge, but also their guide. The last thing we wish is for people to be frightened of us. Good on you for breaking that false rumor and coming up here!”
“Haha, um, thank you, ma’am,” he replied rather sheepishly.
Dr. Giovanni dexterously flipped the pages with focused breezes made by the movements of her fingers, and scanned with her spectacles the title page of each institution to see if the phrase that Elwin gave happened to be the motto for any one of them. Elwin stood in anticipation, feeling a little out of place among the opulent doors, balconies, and bookshelves of rich burgundy. He peered at the catalog himself, but Dr. Giovanni was reading them so fast his eyes could not possibly race along.
It didn’t take more than fifteen minutes for her to flip through the entire catalogued book. Dr. Giovanni furrowed her brow.
“Hmm, none of the educational institutions here have that as the motto.”
“None of them have ‘Destiny is yours to steer’ as the motto?”
“None, from what I’ve seen. Do you have other criteria you want to search by?”
“Uh...” Elwin pondered for a moment. “What about ‘where the stars shine brilliantly’?”
“None again,” she said, flicking to the last page. “Any other criteria?”
“Not really... I just wanted to see if there was any such school that I should be looking out for, because having a motto like that means it should be a great school.”
“I see. Well, thank you for coming, Oliver. I’m sorry I can’t help you further.”
Elwin, rather disappointed, turned to leave. He needed to think of some other avenue to find a clue, and fast. He was walking out when suddenly –
“Wait!” said Dr. Giovanni. “I’ve got it. You may not be fond of the answer, though. But first, can you confirm with me how you would pronounce the motto in Eltanic?”
“In Eltanic?” asked Elwin. “Well, ‘destiny’ would be ‘destinia,’ and ‘yours to steer’ will be...” he stopped. He didn’t have any other knowledge of that classical language other than the word ‘destiny’, which was simple enough.
“...Ego, Astinel Arcana, faciam in quo possiss eligiere itinera propria eligimus. Erit nomen ‘Aeternitas’...” recited Dr. Giovanni, her eyes closed in the recall of a sage.
“That, Oliver, is what Consul Astinel Arcana stated in his speech at the founding of The Second Republic, one thousand one hundred years ago. I remember it from my heart back when I studied the Annals of The Second Republic.”
“What’s remarkable is that...” she continued, raising her spectacles, “if you translate the motto you’re looking for – ‘destiny is yours to steer’ – it becomes ‘destinia propria eligimus.’ But back then, the word ‘itinera’ could be used as a substitute for ‘destinia.’”
“Wow, really?”
“Correct. And you asked for ‘where the stars shine brilliantly,’ didn’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“That is what ‘Astinel’ means. And guess which institution Consul Astinel Arcana founded!”
Elwin was struck with realization. Dr. Giovanni gave him the answer he was looking for:
“It’s Aeternitas. Aeternitas National Academy.”
“Ae – Aeternitas?” stammered Elwin. Every school-aged boy and girl knew the name Aeternitas from their parents and classmates, and news of whichever distinguished family’s heir was admitted made the newspaper rounds every year. It was the one school that everyone wanted to attend, but its standards were so high that nearly everyone was rejected even if they tried with all their might. Parents and even schoolteachers alike prided themselves upon getting their pupil into Aeternitas, the champion of almost all institutions – well, except a very few contenders.
But if the answer to his father’s riddle indeed meant Aeternitas... he would need to – he would be – and that’s when a vision of his father’s letter raced into his mind.
‘Getting there will be difficult.’
Aeternitas was the answer to the riddle.