Elyas's eyes were wide open way before even approaching the entrance from the majesty of this place they called the airport.
'All this for a few air strips?!'
And the ceiling.
Oh, the ceiling!
Elyas tilted his head to the astonishingly high, embelished and opulent ceiling, then, suddenly nauseous, he lost balance, fell back, and landed embarrassingly on his buttocks.
'Wha...?!'
He blushed and got back up to his feet, pretending like nothing had happened.
The beautiful, cool, and soothing aroma took his sense of smell by surprise, too.
And yes, the din did take quite a while to get used to, but other than that, everything transfixed him with wonder:
The magnificent pillars that bloomed like trees, upholding the ceiling.
The glass storefronts that displayed their ostentatious products.
The purposeful people as they rushed by, some adorned in suits, some adorned in outfits that gained a few curious frowns from him, and some...
'Huh... they're dressed like me!'
No wait...
Never mind.
It did seem as if they did at first, but on closer inspection, theirs had almost imperceptible meticulous detail to them.
Elyas tried not to, but he did feel a little self-conscious, more than anything.
He looked down at his own outfit and sighed.
He had changed from his wet clothes into another pair of billowy beige linen trousers and a white shirt with a questionable design, but it was cheap-
'Ahm, free...'
Yes, free. So good enough for him.
'Come on, Elyas, we'll get there.'
With his suitcase held tightly at his side, lest thieves fly by, he marched into the beautiful chaos.
***
Elyas tried not to get squished when he stood amongst a rabble, all of them watching the large departure screens searching for their flights amongst hundreds.
'Flight is in... three hours. Oh, that's perfect.'
Satisfied, Elyas made his way to check in, gawked over his first-ever real plane ticket, and passed security after a few quarrels.
'No shame! No shame at all, those perverts! How dare they touch me like that!'
After reaching one of the great departure halls, Elyas finally noticed how people tended to cluster around each of the digital advertising boards.
Some would pass by, glance at the screen, then blend into the crowd, and leave, engrossed in a newspaper.
He tilted his head at the strange recurrence and decided to finally get closer himself.
The advertisement was more of an announcement than an advertisement.
It was a crimson red, textured backdrop with a logo in the middle. The logo was a black crescent engulfing a dramatic 'R'.
And after gawking at it for a few seconds, Elyas finally realised with a gasp that it was Rosendale's logo.
'...oh...'
He smacked himself on the head.
He submerged his scrawny figure in the crowd, wriggled his way to the front, and stared at the full vertical stretch of it.
Near the front, the crowd fell still into reverent silence, staring at the screen and listening to a small projector repeat a message in a soothing, dignifying female voice.
Elyas, too, felt it.
He felt the weight of its presence, the words seeping into everyone around him.
He even heard a couple nearby murmuring some prayers and trailing off to a discussion about their favourite Coherents and their uncertainty over the state of the Celestial Realm.
Directly beneath the logo, written solemnly, was:
We Sacrifice. We Bleed. We Reign Supreme.
It was Rosendale's slogan. Even Elyas knew of it.
And below the slogan was the message of the announcement:
With blessings and resolve, we honour this year's exceptional Inductees - whose sacrifice and Crimson will carry humanity to perseverance and prosperity. We ask all our allied Unions and all of humanity to stand with them as they lead our beacon to triumph.
'Aw, that's nice.'
A flush of pride consumed him, but before he could relish it, someone barged into him from behind, a middle-aged man in a suit with a derisive look on his face.
"Move out of the way, kid! If ya ain't reading, bug off!" He yelled over the din.
"Who the-"
But before Elyas could finish his retort, he was already shoved to the side, away from that rude bastard, but near a somewhat crumpled newspaper, to the floor.
He grabbed it and rose before he could get trampled, and returned with his suitcase to a clearing near a water fountain and a cafe.
'Goodness, what a horrible bunch! All so aggressive! Let's see what the fuss is about, anyway.'
The first page featured a bold headline accompanied by a black and white picture of an exceptionally handsome man, who wore a magnetic smile and had humorous eyes.
An Envoy to Serecy?! Are Relations with the Salivitians Not as Good as They Seem?
'Huh, Celestial Realm news? And who the hell are the Salivitians? ... Eh, I'll read this later.'
He stashed it away in his suitcase and smiled excitedly at the water fountain.
***
Elyas found an ideal seating area near an open-air restaurant. He had noticed that many travellers tend not to finish their meals, rushing to catch their flights.
That quite literally meant free food from an assortment of meals!
He chuckled impishly to himself and sat shamelessly near a middle-aged man in a suit, watching him eat his food intently.
At some point, it seemed the man did in fact have a flight to catch, looking over his shoulder ever so frequently to where Elyas sat with an anxious look on his face.
Elyas turned to look behind him and found an expansive glass bank viewing a large parked aeroplane.
'Oh, that must be his plane.'
After another few minutes, the man lowered his chopsticks, wiped his mouth, sighed, grabbed his suitcase, and left, shaking his head.
Elyas didn't wait another second before he got up with his suitcase, hopped onto the man's chair, and slurped the ramen like a primate.
The waitress leered at him with a hint of disgust, but quickly moved on.
On the banner running above the restaurant's name, Elyas noticed Rosendale's message asserting itself more and more.
'Goodness, what's their budget?'
The waitress caught him staring, scoffed, and while retrieving his bowl, said:
"That's a place to dream about."
She then gestured with her eyes at his ramen-drenched hands and sneered, "You can keep dreaming."
Well, she clearly wasn't fond of not wasting food.
'Did she really want to throw it out that bad?'
Elyas sat back down in the seating area and took out the newspaper, finally intending on reading it.
In the end, it turned out to be a mix of different opinions, ranging from alarmist to complacent. But what really got people reading, apparently, was this rising star from Rosendale everyone exalted called SilverSun.
He was also the handsome fella on the cover.
'SilverSun, huh. Now that's a goddamn nickname, I say.'
Elyas chucked the newspaper away and sagged back into his seat.
'I wonder what his Coherency level is. Pops said that the first level was Imitation, so what's the second? Wait... how many levels are there, anyway?
There were ten minutes left until he had to move to his gate.
He took a deep, shuddering, nervous breath and shut his eyes.
'Rosendale...'
Tomorrow would be his induction day.
Tomorrow, he would be a student at goddamn Rosendale.
Reflecting on his experience in Callista City, he was utterly apprehensive about his future there.
Elyas shut his eyes, summoned the Crimosn System, and focused on the Brass Mask.
'What the hell is your gift, pops?'