The clicking of Anthonie’s boots resonated across the stone floor as he took his place at the topmost level of the Uagadou caverns. Hands folded behind his back, eyes set on the scene below, he watched as the mass of students milled about. Once, he had been in the very same crowd. He waited for them to settle down before the time old tradition began, the celebration of choice, the celebration of the future, and most importantly, the celebration of dreams. That had always been what he loved most about his home school. Here everyone had a chance to be believed in, everyone had a chance to prosper, and everyone had a chance to chase after their desires.

Sherehe ya Pili ya Kukubali—the Second Acceptance Ceremony—he remembered it in such vivid detail. The awe of his first year was impossible to replicate: head craned as he watched his upperclassmen ascend into the skies, deemed as special. Then he had thought the greatest mystery in life was what was conversed up on the highest storeys, what ceremony took place where they could only await downstairs, eyes wide as they anticipated for the elder students to come back anew. In his fifth year he was beyond himself when it was his turn to be the one lifted, to see the waterfalls become rivers and rivers become streams as he passed, entrusting his life to the whims of his headmaster as he closed his eyes and waited. He had clutched his dream token so tightly to his chest that he feared his heart may burst. As soon as his feet found steady ground, he had glanced up into a dream, and recited the words he had first uttered at ten all over again, and dedicated his studies to self-transfiguration. All the years later he had watched, with the very same owe he had felt as a child and this time, knowing the footsteps they were walking in, a hint of pride he could not hide. And today, in this unexpected yet wholly welcome turn of fate, he was stood at the Full Moon Gate himself, fingers stretched out as if about to greet an old friend.

Today that friend was…

“Chuki wa Mwanamke,” he announced. The action below paused as all eyes turned—whether to Anthonie, stationed above and beyond the mist, or Chuki herself, colourful paint stroking against the stone walls’ grey. He smiled down at the student in question; although they never had any remarkable encounters after teaching for as long as Chuki had been a studying here he was familiar with most of the students. But regardless of his relationship with any, he was just as proud nevertheless. Perhaps below there will be murmurs, perhaps there will be words of encouragement from friends. It was the same every year, but Anthonie would gladly live it again, and again.

“Today we applaud your decision to become a specialist and congratulate you on your approval,” he said simply. Speeches accompanying the acceptance ceremony had always been brief or nonexistent. After all the occasion was an intimate one, a personal one, not a show meant for others to watch.

Beckoning her forwards with his words, Anthonie said: “Please come take your place at the centre of the hall.”

@Chuki wa Mwanamke

note: all students may spectate, but only Chuki will undergo the ceremony

If anyone could have seen him through the swirling mists above they would find an endearing smile creeping across his lips at Chuki’s insolence. A comment certainly befitting of her character, even in such circumstances her personality remained blissfully unchanged. If this had been a ceremony any less serious and he would have toyed with Chuki and feigned dropping her, but alas… the Second Acceptance Ceremony was too important a life-defining moment for him to treat with such playfulness. Instead, he reached out a hand, fingers delicately pointed towards Chuki, palms up. In a slow, steady movement, he retracted and raised his fingers, and wordlessly, casted the ascension spell.

Chuki would find herself, like all her predecessors before her, rising through the mist— an inevitable force of nature in the mountains yet Chuki would not have been faced with any dampness on her clothes. Instead, it would have been an idyllic journey upwards, passing by halls that no longer milled with people, quiet with only the sounds of Uagadou’s signature streams that collated into a grand waterfall at the centre of the school. Perhaps words would have been exchanged below as the students waited, Chuki now being out of sight, but the world around her would have been silent as she rose into the privacy of the highest storey. Soon to await her would be an intimate promise to herself; this was a meeting more with Chuki herself than any other, Anthonie was only there to officiate it. It was as if she was declaring a marriage to her dreams and future while Anthonie was simply the priest.

As the fifth year’s body became parallel to the landing Anthonie stood at, he maintained the spell, keeping her suspended in the air for brief seconds before pulling her in with a wordless Accio. Chuki would find her feet meeting the hard stone floor while Anthonie, fingers still outstretched in case she were to, not finding her balance after the rise, fall back. He had, however, enough trust in his students that they would not. When she would gain a steady footing, he would beckon her forward, fingers curling inwards once more in the gesture. He would welcome Chuki with a kind smile as she would near.

It was rare to find a cloudless, fogless night deep in the mountains, yet they had waited specifically for this occasion. The dream token had to catch the perfect reflection in the light, just as Chuki would have first done it all those years ago, when she was a mere child. Just as Anthonie had done it, and just as everyone before them. They were walking in the footsteps of a legacy bigger than any of them could have comprehended. When Chuki would have taken her place under the open ceiling, Anthonie would face her and speak, “Please, turn your dream token towards the moonlight.

“And repeat the following words in any language you choose; feel free to elaborate on your speciality afterwards: ‘Together, we will follow our dreams.’”

@Chuki wa Mwanamke

note: all students may spectate, but only Chuki will undergo the ceremony

Tradition was an odd concept. It was unconventional to let go of the notion completely to shun the skills of the old guard and see it as a burden to the new, dead tree roots blocking the sunlight for newly bloomed flowers. Anthonie, the product of his upbringing, had never viewed such tradition as the foundation of advancement. The names written into history were not made to be etched into stone. They did not stand on the shoulder of giants but ahead of them, closer to the prospect of future light. It would have been in reach if the world were not to idolise the past on oppressing pedestals. Because once undeniably great boulders, now dust was the only remnant: one ought not to walk in the path of others, forge their own route.

Therefore the stars were not to make them, but they were to map the stars. Idealisation, perhaps, yet he saw it as the excuse of astronomy. The sky was a world full of dreams — wish on a shooting star, as they say. For wizard folk and non-magi alike, who had never yearned to reach for the stars and touch glorious nebulae? Astronomy was the profound pursuit of something more, investing in a sky mankind was barely familiar with. From scouring for flickers of foreign life to consulting the stars one must first have faith in self, as with any pursuit. This faith was determined, and it was a stubborn thing; dangerous, at times, even.

Trust in herself was a quality the headmaster was certain Chuki possessed. As with each ceremony prior, pride rose in Anthonie, this time accompanied by unspoken gratitude. For the first time in his life he was witnessing someone else secure their future. The level of his gratification was great, and greater still the achievement Anthonie felt in Chuki’s place, from reaching her through her younger years and now to standing with her under the moonlight. Chuki raised her dream token towards the night, its reflection almost blinding to the eye. A disc necklace, and from the frayed edges and inconsistent weaving, handmade. The beads shone as Chuki spoke, her words precise, yet not sharp:

“Together, we follow our dreams.”

Her decision had been announced. The stars flickered, as if accepting their fate to be studied by her in congratulation. Despite the usual weather, there was not a cloud in sight as the moonlight spread onto Chuki’s face. “Astronomy,” Anthonie repeated, signalling that she may put her dream token down, “You are right. We study the stars above not for the sake of it but to make something of it. They may have been the same stars hour ancestors have watched before, and while honouring that, do not forget that booklist lay down your own constellations. I have great faith in you, Chuki.”

Whenever she was ready, Anthonie would guide her way down, returning a different girl.

@Chuki wa Mwanamke

note: all students may spectate, but only Chuki will undergo the ceremony