The five judges were settling into their seats when I saw the spear Poppy had mentioned mounted on the wall behind them. It was as long as a man with a palm-sized black spearhead and a flowing red-dyed horsehair skirt behind the metal point. The end of the white wooden staff along with the tip were coated with brown crusted blood. I stood mesmerized, unable to take my eyes off the spear until Poppy let go of my hand, breaking my trance.

The judge on the left end was the handsome young Spanish man I had seen arrive with Poppy before dinner. To his left sat a tall, rail-thin North African man, Egyptian probably. In the center, under the spear, sat a weathered man in his sixties with long white hair and a long white beard to match. The deep wrinkles lay like plowed furrows cut onto his leathery face. Next to him was Nadya from the cafe. She gave a slight smile when she caught me looking at her. On the end, next to the curtain, sat a gracile Asian with a shaved head. I couldn't tell whether it was a man or a woman.

The twenty seats of the gallery to my right were less than half full. A young man, dressed in the same robes as the judges, took a seat at a desk at the end of the gallery and opened a large, leather-bound tome and appeared to ready an ornate fountain pen, a scribe perhaps? The only faces I recognized were Diltz and the rotund man I'd met at the front door the night before. Diltz smiled reassuringly at me. The older man in the center was looking directly at me when I turned away from the gallery. The four others got situated, and one by one looked out at us. Poppy cleared her throat.

"I bring before you Evan Michaels," she said, addressing the whole panel, "a neophyte who claims to be one of us, a palingenesist. I believe his claim to be true and therefore have gathered you so that you may pass judgment on him. It is his wish to become a candidate for the Ascension." The remnants of her words floated about the room after she'd finished.

"Very well. Does the candidate know what is involved?" the old man asked, his tired voice echoing ominously.

"Yes. He has been informed. I will act as his advocate and as a witness for him."

The old man shifted in his seat as he addressed me. "Do you, Evan Michaels, wish to join our family and enter into the Cognomina?" His grey, heavy eyes looked as fathomless as time itself.

I felt every eye in the room on me. I knew what saying yes would mean to the life I'd known and to the life I saw around me in this room. "Yes," I said simply as I planted both feet firmly on this new world.