The soothing scent of wood-fired smoke wafted through the halls of Aeternitas on the evening before the day of the great forge. Laden on the scent for many an upperclassman was nostalgia; a reminder of the time when they, curious and wide-eyed, befriended the spirits of metal which danced with their souls as they crafted their own Quan. But the scent too carried with it the memory of painstaking labor, for it was likely that the three days and nights which they took to forge their Quan was probably the hardest they'd ever worked in their entire life up until that point, save for some. And so, each upperclassman passing by instinctively glanced at their left arm and their sturdy Quan, soulforged and proud, appraising the glint of the evening Sun on their first achievement at Aeternitas. Elwin took notice of this, but he often wondered why, since he had yet to grasp the monumental endeavor of the hallowed project. All the Fradihta were gathered in the great indoor amphitheatron, having finished their supper, when the gates to the interior swung open with mighty force.
In walked Headmaster Abraxas.
The entire theatron clattered for a brief moment as the Fradihta all stood up at once.
Headmaster Abraxas Justiciae Amladris. The former president of the Unified Republics; retired after two very eminent terms in office. Most people lost their power with age, their eyes becoming less acute in their assessments and their hands enfeebling from decades of use. But such an adage could not dare be applied to Headmaster Abraxas, the conqueror of enemies to the Republic and its state. In their heyday his eyes pierced untruth and brought the syndicates to judgment of the Sun, and his hands swept those treasonous villains into the dustbin of history. With both he commanded the absolute attention of every Fradihta in those skyward seats.
Such an occasion where they'd be addressed like this was rare; in fact, the last time they'd seen the headmaster properly was during the entrance ceremony more than a month ago.
He spoke, and his voice was as thunder.
"ARTENS!"
He scrutinized every Fradihta from his lectern. For a brief second, Elwin's gaze matched his, and Elwin immediately looked to the ground for an instinctive fear of being found guilty of some mischievous deed, although he had done no wrong. Such was the presence of the headmaster.
"You may take your seats."
The Fradihta let out a sigh of relief as they relaxed back onto their stone benches, but leaned in their ears as closely as ever.
"Would any Arten in this amphitheatron enlighten me as to what a 'Quan' is?" announced Headmaster Abraxas, awaiting intently for raised hands in the air.
There was absolute silence. Elwin looked at Isaac, and Isaac looked at Katherine. They all knew what the answer was, of course; from Maximus's demonstration to half a thousand hours of practical forays at the forge, the concept of a Quan was so drilled into their minds that they could recite it in their dreams.
But they were afraid to say it: and it was understandable. There was a chance possibility that their answer could be a little off the mark, or not to the headmaster's liking, and if such a thing were so in the view of some one-hundred-and-sixty people, what could happen to them? Embarrassment of epic proportions! All of them shuddered at the thought.
Then, a hand went up some ways off from Elwin. A hundred pairs of eyes scuffled to behold the savior of the moment.
She stood, and spoke. "A Quan is a device that enhances our ability to perform the Four Mahamastra, sir," declared Mirai.
"Correct. Can you enlighten me as to why we have a need for them?"
A follow-up question. Uh oh. This is what everyone who wanted to answer was afraid of.
"It eases our daily lives."
"How so?"
Mirai gulped and waited a moment to organize her thoughts. Elwin sat on the edge of his seat – surely his friends could hear his teeth clatter, because he imagined himself freezing in her place. But if he knew of her past, fear would be the last thing he could expect.
Mirai spoke once again.
"A Quan serves as an extension of our soul. It works together with us when we perform the great Arts, and therefore lightens the burden off our minds, as if two people worked together. It is through the use of Quan that we can do wonderful things."
"Such as?"
"Artisanry, construction, and triumphant combat." Her reply this time was immediate, forceful.
Headmaster Abraxas waited for a moment for Mirai's answer to find place with the audience. Then he leaned back, and finally offered his nod of approval.
"An incisive answer, Miss Mirai. I see that the Quanmaster has taught his Artens very well."
From away, Quanmaster Montgomery lowered his head in humility.
Elwin was thoroughly shocked by the confidence with which Mirai enunciated her answer. She was calm, like he had known her, but out of everyone, she was the last person he imagined to answer the headmaster and with such daring confidence. Until now there would have been suspicious glances at Mirai's direction and rumors of her poem-book and its contents; but no one in that theatron dared such a glance now, at least in the presence of headmaster's authority. And what was it with the headmaster knowing Mirai's name? Did he know of Elwin's own name too? What about Katherine's? He shoved the orchestra of questions flooding his mind back to sleep. Now wasn't a good time.
"You may take your seat," the headmaster announced.
"Now then, you may imagine why I have summoned all of you thus to this amphitheatron; for this day, Mitrayasna 45th, heralds the Procession of the Metals."
It's finally here, everyone thought.
"Tonight, you shall finally choose the orestone for your Quan – the metal and its spirit that shall meld with your Kaha, and become one in the fires of the forgeworks."
In an unanticipated move, he raised his left hand and wrist in front of his steely-eyed face as if to make a blessing, and lowered the sleeves of his robes to reveal a brilliant Quan of his own, rich with hues of plum.
"I remember too when I sat in your seats, that night of 58 years ago. I know well your eagerness and anticipations; your concerns and doubts about the coming forgework. The experience paints itself vivid in my imagination."
"Forging your own Quan shall not be easy. In fact, it may be the single-hardest endeavor you've ever sought to accomplish until the present."
"But it is in the heat of fire that gold is tested, and tested you shall be. Grit your teeth and prove yourself; I give you, and the professors that shall aid you, my blessing for the Procession of Metals."
The headmaster's speech steeled the resolve of every single Fradihta in that outdoor theatron. When he was the President, it was his duty to rally the peoples of the nation to a shared vision of the future; he did the same now, but with the Artens who would make such visions true. But whether such a dream of peace could be achieved he did not know; one grain of sand at a time, time was running out.
Elwin, on the other hand, was only partly aware of the full motions that surrounded him; for the moment, driven by his desire to become the champion of the Franen tournament and to prove himself, the only thing on his mind was to forge the best Quan there ever was.
***
By now the Sun had tucked itself beyond the forests on the horizon for its nightly slumber, and around Elwin whispers and murmurs of anticipation were punctuated occasionally by giggles of excitement of what was to come next. The one-hundred-and-sixty Fradihta were climbing the 500 steps to the summit of the ziggurat of House TERA; the autumn chill ruffled their robes and whispered in their ears as they hoisted themselves step by step, the ground receding from them and the entirety of the campus coming into view on their backs.
"We are here," Professor Aionia declared, as they clambered over the last step to the summit of the ziggurat. When she motioned open the gates of the Temple of TERA and SERA, they found a mighty hall filled with rows upon rows of marbled tables, on each of them thousands of pieces and lumps of minerals and ores, glistening dimly in the torchlights. "Touch none until the ode is complete."
She led them up deep into the Temple through its colonnades and marchways until they came upon the statue of the Founder TERA, the patron divinity of earth and metals, and Founder SERA, the guardian of artisans and the master of the written word. Professor Aionia and Quanmaster Montgomery kneeled before the altar of the two figures, Professor Aionia before the Founder SERA and the Quanmaster before the Founder TERA; every Arten did the same behind them, awaiting with breaths held. The silence was immense, and Elwin felt it in his bones.
Professor Aionia unsheathed a knife of glasslike obsidian from her waist, and held her left hand and the knife out above the altar. The Quanmaster did the same with his own knife.
With heads bowed, and a nod, they took the knife to their left palm and drew a swift cut, out and down; Elwin saw and heard the cut being made, and for a moment his head swam, and he tried not to yelp; Isaac grimaced and patted his back. Katherine watched solemnly in silence, and Mirai, with wordless observation.
The cut was so swift and the obsidian so sharp the blood was not immediate, but droplets soon formed, and droplets became rivulets of crimson ink onto the altar. The Fradihta heard both Professor Aionia and Quanmaster Montgomery draw a sharp breath in pain.
"Founders TERA and SERA, HE who became the earth, SHE who became its bridge; HE who sung the tune of metal, SHE who weaved the written word; THEY who sung the Melody of the Two Earths and its descendants to this Age; we ask for thy blessing on the Forging of the Great Quans, and for the Procession of the Metals for which thy domain justly presides."
"I, Aionia Hana Arcansale –"
"And I, Praxis Montgomery –"
"Give thee our names truly in thy witness, for we shall teach our disciples to use their Quans with heart and for good; and never for evil a purpose."
They lowered their heads once more, blood still seeping out from their enclosed palms onto the altar below. The torchlights extinguished at once; and from deep within the ziggurat, no, from below the ziggurat itself like the heralds of earthquake from their midst, Elwin heard a heartbeat, a melody, a shuddering of the world. All around them the marbled columns trembled, the winds billowing around them, and at the roots of his conscious mind he heard a response in some ancient language to which they did not have the key, but intuitively understood, like words said from a dream.
"WE ACCEPT."
Elwin could not discern whether what he heard and felt was his imagination as an effect of witnessing the ceremony, which was entirely novel to him, or reality. But what he was sure of was that the torchlights were lit again, and that blood remained no more on the altar. Professor Aionia and Quanmaster Montgomery rose from their positions, bandaging their left hands with cords of white cloth.
The ode and blessing was complete.
"Thus begins your Procession of the Metals. You may choose your ore of choice at your own discretion; have the entire night till dawn, if you must."
A timid voice squeaked from among the audience.
"What was that, just now?"
"You received the blessings of the Founders TERA and SERA."
"But your hands – the blood!"
"It is called a Blood Oath, a practice of the First Republic to this day. Consul Mithra once used it to unite the peoples of the world."
What world? Elwin thought. Weren't there only the Unified Mythrisian Republics, the Empire of Jin, and Avan? Was there something more than that?
Like always, his head raced with questions, but he was forced to shelve it. He would find all about it, once he won the tournament.