Elwin peered out of his cabin window on the Lumière Express, witnessing the paintwork of twilight, his homeland far behind him for the very first time in his life. The rolling hills of green and rustic cottages out here in the pristine and oft-untouched part of the countryside played their shadows at him, as if waving him goodbye. He reclined by the window, one leg raised, the other outstretched, his arms crossed in deep contemplation. Such was the boy who was beginning to leave his cradle, looking to forge his own future.
This train would take Elwin to the capital city, Cita de Lumière, the City of Lights in the vernacular. It was there that the second and final challenge of the Aeternitas entrance exams would take place, the results of which would determine his destiny, and quite possibly the future of the world at large. Elwin had earned his right to participate in this great chance through his wit, instinct, and most importantly, his perspiration for the last several weeks. The silver token in his hand, held tight, was testament to this truth. And yet, Elwin thought, there must have been others like him who made just as much effort, but were not granted such an opportunity. The train ticket that the two distinguished guests had left him after their midnight supper had gotten him on this Lumière Express, and looking back at it, the serendipity of the events continued to surprise Elwin. Perhaps they saw something in Elwin that he himself did not. Perhaps it was just fortune, sent by the FOUNDERS to whom he had prayed. Perhaps it was neither, and simply a straw of chance. But whatever the challenge he was given tomorrow, he thought, he must not squander it for the sake of those left behind.
He glanced at the map of his country once again. He turned the knob on the tiny antaric light by the side of his cabin bed, and the numerous republics and their own cities sprung to life on the carefully printed parchment, their names highlighted in luminescent gold. It was a journey of some 400 miles to the capital by train; it'd only be 230 miles as the falcon flies, but like all things he came to know, there wasn't a straight path nor rail to his destination. The locomotive first had to race north and traverse the great gap between the Redhorn mountain range, then down through the vast plains and finally to the capital. It'd be early morning by the time he arrived.
Should get some rest, he thought to himself, as he closed his eyes and entered the world of dreams until his calling, the creaking of the floorboards and the deep rumbling of the train wheels rocking him to sleep.
***
Elwin awoke to the sound of shuffling footsteps and of waking passengers in the other cabins, the creaking of the train gradually rousing him out of slumber. Half-past-six, his pocket watch told him. He must be in the middle of the vast plains north of the capital.
Out of his window to the east, he could see AIEN, the Sacred Mountain, which he saw so often in storybooks and textbooks of his country; upon its volcanic peak consul MITHRA received the will of AETERNITAS, the MAHA of all MAHAs, and descended its slopes to found the First Republic with his people. All the peoples in the many republics of today are their descendants, or so Elwin learnt, but he was uncertain whether such stories were true.
His mother once told him that the Sacred Mountain dominated the skyline north of the capital for hundreds of miles, and someday, they would be able to see it together, as his father once did in the past. While his family was not with him this moment, his mother was right – it was one thing to know something, to learn it in school, and completely another experience to see it in person. AIEN's mighty stature was like no hill he'd ever witnessed, and its summit of everlasting snow, crowned by a cap of conical cloud reflecting the light of the coming Sun which Elwin could not yet see, commanded all his reverence. But it was not so much for beauty alone that the sacred mountain laid claim upon Elwin's heart – there was a subtle yearning, a nostalgia for history forgotten, and the gentle emanation of light from its graceful repose, that sturdied Elwin's anxious spirit and invigorated his purpose.
He understood why many people throughout the Republics often turned to the direction of AIEN and prayed to it, especially before a momentous event in their life or their careers; Elwin did the same, gathering his hands towards the mountain and whispering a gentle spellsong, ladening the melody with his hopes of good fortune.
***
"Your token of passage?" asked the exam officer at the gate.
"It's here." Elwin pulled out his token and carefully handed it to him.
The officer held up a magnifying air-glass and read the tiny etches upon the wreaths of the token.
"Candidate 17 from the Republic of Ascension. Satisfactory. Your identification documents?" he said, eyeing the curious little applicant and his single eye.
"Please allow me a second," said Elwin, as he reached through his backpack, looking for the familiar feeling of crisp paper that he and his mother prepared and signed in the witness of a notary back home.
But his identification documents were nowhere to be found. Elwin fumbled once again, but it wasn't there, and neither was most of his denaros in his coin wallet. And that's when the terrifying prospect hit him – somebody must have stolen them when he was asleep on the train. That's what the shuffling sounds were. He suppressed the cacophony of imaginations welling up in his mind and spoke calmly.
"I... I don't have them with me."
The officer grimaced. Elwin flinched slightly.
"You were told that your identification documents were a requirement for this exam, were you not?" inquired the officer, his voice cold and methodical.
"Yes, sir."
"And you do know that without your identification documents, you cannot partake in this exam?" he said once more, clarifying.
"Yes. I believe that it was stolen on the way here."
"That is unfortunate. Allow me a brief moment to talk to the superintendent," he said, wandering to liaise, returning after a few moments.
"I am afraid that without anyone to verify your identity here and now, you cannot partake in this exam."
The cold truth rang in Elwin's head. He shook his head to see if this situation was real or just a dream; he pinched himself. To his dismay, it was very real. He may as well have squandered the entire opportunity because of his crude mishap.
"Sir, I do have the token, do I not? How else would I know to come here and ask to participate?"
"Well, for all I know, you could have stolen that token. And while I am sure you speak the truth, we need something that officially documents your identity to us. Without it, no entry."
"But –"
"I'm sorry. Those are the rules. No identification, no entry."
The world spun in Elwin's vision, and tears threatened to well in his eyes. He'd gotten so far, so close, even prayed to the Mountain, but it was all about to be for nothing – it was all for nothing. That single mistake on the train had robbed him of the opportunity to become someone greater. Now he had to wait for next year – or quite possibly more than that – to become an Arten of Aeternitas. He wanted to pound the ground underneath him and repent at his own folly, his carelessness. He should have hugged his rucksack even as he slept!
Elwin did not speak, because he was certain his voice would tremble. Despite how old he thought of himself, he was still young. He tried gathering himself in vain. The cruelty of the world made itself known to Elwin in the most visceral way possible: despite readying for it, there was an unjust quality to the event that seemed to undo his resolve for that brief moment. But of course, such an event was not Elwin's first; and neither would it be his last in the coming years.
"I wish you luck next year," said the officer, turning away to help other applicants lined up behind him.
Elwin, dejected and his head still ringing with what had just transpired, turned to walk away. He was some way away towards the back of the line when a boy his age cautiously tapped him on the shoulder. Elwin looked up.
"Sorry for listening in, but I heard your conversation from some distance away. Were your identification documents nabbed?" he asked. He had a fluffy hair of peridot green and round spectacles, with faint freckles sprinkling his cheek and nose. His face looked a little gaunt, and his cheeks and chin would not have looked as sharp had he not been thin, Elwin surmised. But contrary to the sharpness of his exterior, his expression was pleasant and without malice. He had emerald-colored eyes that were kind, round, and oozed goodness; his eyebrows were wrinkled in innocent concern. Whoever this boy was, his presence was worlds away from those of the so-called 'classmates' that tormented Elwin back at school.
"I... um, yeah," said Elwin, trailing off, "It was stupid of me to leave my rucksack unattended on the train. But still..."
Elwin gripped his rucksack and looked down and away.
"Wait!" said the green-haired boy. "I think there's a way for you to get in the exam. But I'll have to ask first. Will you be okay with that?"
"What? I –" stammered Elwin, taken aback. There was a way? How? The bureaucrats at the gates seemed impenetrable. Rules are rules... He regathered his composure and replied. "I – I would be enormously grateful."
"I'm Isaac, by the way. Isaac Artavalt," said the green-haired boy, extending his hand towards Elwin. Elwin took his hand and made a warm handshake.
"I'm Elwin. Elwin Eramir. It's good to meet you, Isaac."
"It's nice to meet you too," Isaac replied. Elwin half-expected him to ask about his eyewrap, so it came as a surprise that Isaac didn't poke the topic. This boy, Isaac, was the very first person of his own age not to greet Elwin with the question of why he was missing an eye.
"How'll this plan work? Do I need to do anything?"
"Stand close to me as we get to the front. I'll get you covered," said Isaac, as the clock ticked closer to the starting hour and they shuffled closer to the officer's booth. Finally, it was their turn. The same officer eyed the both of them curiously and spoke.
"Your tokens of passage?"
Both Elwin and Isaac pulled the silver tokens out and showed it to the officer. He spoke once again.
"If I remember from a few moments ago, you –" he said, pointing to Elwin, "don't have an identification document. So you cannot get in."
It was at this moment that Isaac spoke up.
"Sir, I am his friend. I would like to vouch for his identity for the entrance examinations."
The officer looked closely at Isaac's silver token.
"You're candidate 39 of the Lumière Republic. Which is to say that you're from here. On the other hand, that boy is from Ascension. You mean to say you know each other?"
It was an incisive question. Elwin gulped, expecting the newfound help to bail out at the adversity. But it was not so.
"Yes, sir. I would like to sign an oath of truth to help my friend, whose misplacement of documents is not his fault," declared Isaac.
"An oath of truth? Right here?" inquired the officer, inching closer.
"Yes," said Isaac, once more and with emphasis. His lips were pursed and his expression daring. The puffs of his green hair seemed to stand on their ends.
All of this was happening so fast, and Elwin was reeling with disbelief at the sequence of events. This boy – who did not know Elwin just half an hour ago, was helping him with all his might. Why? What for? He'd only actually experienced such a thing called 'kindness' back with Sandora, Leonardo, and Hina; and like that time, it kindled a small hope in his heart.
The officer looked behind the pair of pupils, and found no one else waiting. He continued in his cold, authoritative tone.
"If ever your oath of truth is revealed to be fraudulent, you will face consequences even if you're not yet an adult, including nullification of your Aeternitas examination results. That's what the law is. You understand that, yes?"
Elwin was about to poke Isaac and tell him not to put his life on the line, but Isaac went ahead anyway and confidently announced, "Yes, I understand."
There was no going back.
A brief pause hung over the air as the officer mulled over Isaac's request. Finally, he gave an approving nod.
"Very well. Put your friend's name, your name, and imprint here your blood with the prick of a finger," he said.