An Invitation to the Skies Unsoared

She handed the pocket watch back to Elwin with an equal measure of care.

"Yes, ma'am."

"I see..."

Elwin sat in silence. He remembered that day vividly, and his mornings jolted awake by nightmares.

No one spoke for a long while. Both Dr. Hana Reiss and Braus Brentley sat in silence with their heads down. Though Elwin still couldn't clearly see Dr. Braus' face, he could see Dr. Hana's, and tides of grief and sorrow were fighting to occupy her expressions, in what seemed to be a silent prayer and hymnal for his father. Elwin, though surprised, looked away out of respect.

Finally, Dr. Hana Reiss gently unburdened the air of the room.

"I am sorry for your loss, Elwin."

Elwin turned to face her again.

"Your father was a great supporter of research at the Institute of Atomionic Philosophy. Without him, it would have been difficult to make the breakthroughs of recent years into the nature and the field of Ori."

"I wished to thank him for his discoveries and for his contributions to the field of experimental philosophy, but I never had a chance to do so. I would therefore like to extend my gratitude to you, even if just in word."

Tears began welling up in Elwin's eyes.

This was all so sudden. Never before has anyone in person praised his father's work and discoveries and foray into the unknown. All his teachers and every person he met at school and in everyday life slandered his name out of jealousy or envy or hate, but here was a person – a genuine person – who was open and supportive of his father's legacy. A tide of emotions came over him. His beliefs and convictions were not for nothing as others wanted so hard to convince. His father passed away doing something important, something meaningful and grand that helped others.

Elwin couldn't stem the gathering of his tears, so he looked away. He tried so hard not to look out of place and to always be stoic in everyday life, because that was the only way to be taken seriously, but he was still a child, barely a teenager. If there was just one person who existed that proved his father's worth, it would mean Elwin and his mother and brother's experiences for the last six years would not have been in vain.

"Thank you," he said, in an unexpectedly shy and somewhat hoarse voice, trying to clear his throat.

Dr. Hana Reiss took out her checkered handkerchief and passed it to Elwin. Elwin turned to receive it politely, and he saw in her expression an expression of sadness, assurance, and motherly concern. He wiped away his tears with gentle blots, and carefully folded the handkerchief back before returning it to her.

It was unusual for guests to commiserate with Elwin, and how strange this situation was to him, this unexpected recognition! To accept a handkerchief from those much higher than him, so out of place! But his father once worked with people in mighty places like them, and Dr. Hana spoke so gently and with grace that he intuitively knew she was honest and sincere. 

He also saw the same understanding in her eyes. She had almost the same eye as his in color – but what stood out to him were the invisible scars that accompanied it. Eyes are windows to the soul, or so often people told, and it was true. While a normal person couldn't see anything strange, those who have undergone great suffering could see when others had eyes laden with the scars of time just like themselves. And as Elwin peered more deeply beyond the surface, he witnessed an exhaustion which roused his empathy and interest. Beneath the cheerful smile and the graceful exposé of her presentation, Dr. Hana Reiss was weary – not in the physical sense – but with regards to her soul. She must know a great deal more about the world than Elwin did; perhaps suffered great losses herself.

The silence this time was much more immense and heavy. But this time, Elwin was the one to break the ice.

"Dr. Hana? What field of research do you lead in experimental philosophy?"

She looked up from the table.

"Gravity and Antaromagnetism." Seeing comprehension in Elwin's eyes, she continued.

"And how they work together. It is a relatively new field of study, but we hope to apply it to make a better portrait of the cosmos."

"Gravity? Like in Emerson's Theory of Universal Gravitation?"

"Correct."

"And Antaromagnetism as in Kosmogorov's theories?"

"Exactly, yes."

Elwin was puzzled. "But don't those two act at completely different scales? Like gravity works over really vast distances, but antaromagnetism the opposite?"

Dr. Hana Reiss didn't know if it was the espresso or the turn of events, but the phantoms of her memories were dispelled for the time being. Here was a child – teenager – that took an interest in her field, and knew more than just adding numbers. No, it was beyond that. Elwin seemed interested in the reasons behind why things worked a certain way. Seldom had she witnessed anyone take such a curiosity other than her colleagues and those who she persuaded to achieve funding – well, of course, that was years ago – so she resolved to answer him the best she could.

"They do work at vastly different scales, and that's why it is challenging. But you see, each theory explains a specific part of the cosmos, but not the whole."

"What does that mean?"

"If understanding the cosmos was like drawing a painting, antaromagnetism might instruct how colors should be used, and gravity might instruct how shapes should be drawn. But when it comes to actually drawing the portrait, those two instructions don't match."

"Right now, antaromagnetism and gravity don't really like each other. Each of them tries to say how the other should be, but they do not conform to what we see in experiments."

"As in how?"

"As in antaromagnetism says red things must be shaped like squares, but gravity says that squares can't be colored red. Which one is right? Which one is wrong? Are they both wrong or both right?"

"Oh, I think I get it now. And figuring out even where to start must be really difficult."

"Precisely. All the experiments show us that both are correct in what they say. But each can't explain everything."

"Could it be that there is an underlying truth to all of that, and what we see are only slices of the same picture?" inquired Elwin.

Dr. Hana Reiss was more than mildly surprised. Of course, this was the son of Dr. Carl Eramir, but Elwin must have been only six or seven when Dr. Eramir left for his expedition. There was no way he could have passed down all of his knowledge to his son before he left, let alone how to think and to ask questions.

Elwin wanted to push his curiosity, but the kitchen bell rang again. The discussion was so engrossing that he'd forgotten it was his duty to serve dishes for the time being.

"Please excuse me for a moment," said Elwin, as he came into the kitchen and brought the mains out to the distinguished guests. He felt it'd be rather rude to pester them with more questions while they ate, so he excused himself and went into the kitchen to inform his mother of the fresh development.

"I heard conversation outside, though I couldn't make it all out. Did you talk to them?"

"Yeah, I did. They are research doctors at the Institute of Atomionic Philosophy."

"Institute of Atomionic Philosophy? Your father once told me that he had ties to it during the founding."

"Yeah, and they knew of him back then."

"Really?" she continued, "What are their names?"

"Dr. Hana Reiss and, uh... I think Dr. Braus Bent – Brentley?"

"Your dad told me all about his friends and colleagues at the Institute, but I don't remember any Hana Reiss or Braus Brentley..." she trailed off.

Elwin knew his mother's memory was impeccable. She was a really astute woman too, and she would have made a fine experimental philosopher herself – perhaps just as much as the guests outside – if she didn't have to prepare and work at the Inn day and night to support Elwin and Andre.

"Are you sure those are their true names?" Anna asked.

And that's when the possibility hit Elwin. What if they're using a pseudonym? If they were, what did they have to fear here, especially when they were already so open with Elwin?

"Mom, maybe it's that our guests knew dad but dad didn't really know them that well. Dad had a pretty tight-knit circle, didn't he?"

"Yeah, I remember him telling me that."

"I don't think there's anything to worry."

"But still, let me know if something fishy is going on. It's not everyday someone walks into The Marlin at midnight and orders espressos with a full course meal," joked Anna.

"Well, that means they likely won't be staying over the night, no?"

"You're right. Oh," she added, "you should get to bed soon. You've got to grow!"

"But then who does the dishes?" Elwin replied.

"I'll do it."

"But I'm the one who does dishes the best, mom. I can move water like no one can. And I can do it really fast."

His face was that of stubborn determination, and Anna knew that expression all too well. She understood and empathized with her eldest son's sense of duty, but if he became hurt or suffered from bad health because she assented to a rest, who was she as a mother then?

"Elwin," Anna continued, "Your health is more important than mine."

Elwin was about to say 'Don't say that, mom, we are all in this together,' but he knew at once why she said what she said, and knew that arguing further did not produce any tangible benefit. So Elwin nodded and headed back outside with his book on antaricity under him.

"Please let me know if you need anything," said Elwin, as he walked some distance away to the bar's countertop and began reading again. 

It was some thirty minutes before Dr. Hana Reiss asked Elwin to the table.

"Thank you, Elwin. The food was great. Is your mother the chef of The Marlin?"

He would've said otherwise, but by now Elwin had built enough rapport with the two guests for him to not be concerned too much. "Yes," was his answer. He certainly didn't expect the next question that was posed to him.

"Elwin, what kind of person do you aspire to be when you become an adult?"

Dr. Braus leaned back slightly, his hood still up. He turned his head towards Elwin ever so slightly. Elwin did not notice.

Elwin pondered for a deep moment. He had given the question much thought ever since his father disappeared, but it was certainly not an easy topic. He remembered the events of just this afternoon, when he had the heated argument of ideals with Mr. Sadis, his numeracy teacher. Mr. Sadis's words came to mind.

"Grow up and learn your place in the world, Mr. Elwin Eramir. The sooner you realize that you should live a hardworking and steady life of an ant, no one has to suffer. Don't lead others to your crackpot dreams."

Elwin thought how terrible it was for adults to force their visions of the world onto innocent children, when they were once little themselves. He wished for the longest time that a person other than his mother and brother could give courage to Elwin's convictions. 

But now there was! Dr. Hana Reiss was in front of him. Elwin still felt that courageous warmth bubbling forth like a wellspring the moment she professed her father's work was not in vain. And in that realization, Elwin knew how he could answer the difficult question.

"I would like to ask your forgiveness if this sounds brash and childlike."

"Go on."

Elwin gulped. Then he spoke.

"I would like to become someone who can give courage to people who need it. I want the people I befriend and meet to know that their belief is important, and no one can take that away."

"I would also like to be someone who strives and makes contributions to the betterment of us all, as my father once did. As the FOUNDER MANASURA once did, thousands of years ago."

"It would mean everything to me to be able to do these things, even if it means I might not lead a life as comfortable or plain as others. I don't wish to become an ant."

No one spoke for a lengthy period of time. Elwin couldn't tell if they were taken aback, impressed, or secretly laughing on the inside as so many people at school did.

Finally, Dr. Hana Reiss nodded in acknowledgement.

"Thank you, Elwin, for your answer."

Though he had answered their question with such conviction and force of delivery, Elwin looked at his server's uniform and couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious. Actually, more than just a little self-conscious – it was embarrassing. How out of place his delivery was! A speech as a serving boy, claiming to know something about life? What would these distinguished adults think? Come on. His face was turning red.

"Your Maht is Water, isn't it?" asked Dr. Hana Reiss.

"I –" Elwin stopped himself.

How did she know? He'd never told her before, and the only time she saw him use water was... well, when he felt the water mugs were getting empty. It was certainly strange. She continued.

"If the world wills it, I hope to meet you again in better places."

Dr. Hana looked at Dr. Braus. None of them commented anything else for a lengthy while, then Dr. Braus finally spoke.

"Elwin, please get us the bill."

Elwin rushed into the kitchen to fetch the bill, and brought it out to the two guests.

But their seats were empty, and only the dishes remained.

Elwin stood struck in disbelief. Then the terrifying thought occurred to him.

Oh no. They dined and dashed. They were just dressed good and talked smooth so they could earn my trust. Foolish! Stupid! How could I fall for such a – 

No, it didn't make sense. They were honest and sincere. They couldn't have been lying or scheming something like this, and his intuition was usually correct. He must have misunderstood.

Elwin approached the table, and there it was – on the table tucked under a dish was a single banknote of one hundred Denaros, more than thrice the amount the bill would have required them to pay. Under another dish was a small strip of paper. Elwin carefully plucked it and inspected its little inscribed words in the candlelight.

It was a train ticket to the capital city.

Elwin ran out of The Marlin's front doors to chase and let them know that they left something behind, but there was no one in the street. Only the faint moon, the rings of SERA as a bridge across the sky, and the soft hum of the antaric lights, greeted him.