The academy gave first-years grey scarves before Choosing Tide. This confused Harper.

"Why give us a scarf in summer?"

The seamstress looked over her glasses.

"It is ceremonial cloth."

"Still hot."

"You are not required to wrap it around your neck."

"Then why is it a scarf?"

Ava pulled Harper away before the conversation became philosophical. The grey cloth had one purpose. After Choosing, it would be edged in the colour of the student's Order and become part of their Year Two uniform. Before Choosing, every scarf was plain. Same wool. Same length. Same small Tidefall crest stitched near one corner. Jasper held his up. It felt heavier than a strip of cloth should. Not magically. Meaning did that sometimes. The first-years collected them in the old sewing room, where shelves held boxes labelled by year and Order. Brannor trim. Velmor. Calyx. Nocten. The colors were not the colors of the students themselves, despite half the class pretending they were fortune signs.

Theo held his grey scarf against each box in turn.

"I look best in Velmor."

Mia said, "You look like a person holding grey fabric."

"Cruel."

Students also chose whether they wanted trousers, shorts, skirts or combinations for the next year's uniform set. Tidefall cared more about practical movement and weather than making every student look identical. Harper chose shorts immediately. Ava chose two skirts and trousers. Jasper chose trousers and one pair of formal shorts for warmer days. The seamstress measured sleeves and hems while students fidgeted.

"Stand still."

Harper stood still for three seconds.

"That was excellent," Jasper said.

"Thank you."

The seamstress did not share his appreciation. Afterward they carried their grey scarves back to Room Fourteen. Ava folded hers. Jasper placed his in his trunk. Harper tied hers around the Bag Bed's bedpost like a flag.

"That's not what it's for," Ava said.

"Temporary purpose."

The room had almost been packed. Their trunks stood open. Shelves were half empty. The Bag Bed no longer held mountains of shared overflow. Only the history box, handball trophy, tiny lift, a few final letters and Harper's grey scarf remained.

"We need to decide what happens to the history box," Jasper said.

Harper stopped. The box had begun as a joke. A container for things too ridiculous or important to throw away. Inside: The first Chronicle draft. A broken practice feather. Ava's old sock label. The replacement screw from the failed safety hook. A copy of the storm shelter schedule. A smooth pebble from the supervised tide-pool trip. Harper's pink handball final ticket. Theo's FOOD MISTAKES card. A paper model of the Choosing Basin. Nothing valuable. Everything valuable.

"Take it with us," Harper said.

Ava looked at her.

"What if we're in different Orders?"

Silence. The question had returned. Harper picked at the scarf knot.

"Then... library?"

Jasper imagined the box on a public shelf. No. Too personal. Ava thought.

"We could rotate it."

"Every week?"

"Every term."

"That's worse."

Jasper said, "What if we leave it with Elowen?" Both looked at him.

"First-year residence office," he continued. "Not forever. Just until we know. Then wherever makes sense."

Ava nodded slowly. Harper did too.

"Fine."

Nobody liked the idea of splitting it. Nobody wanted to use the box as another reason to panic. They carried it to Elowen after dinner. She accepted it without opening.

"Safe storage?"

"Until after Choosing," Ava said.

Elowen put it in a locked cabinet.

"Done."

Harper hovered.

"You aren't going to read it?"

"No."

"Not even Theo's food card?"

"Especially not without permission."

Ava looked satisfied. On the walk back, Jasper noticed Harper's bedpost looked strange without the grey scarf.

"You forgot it."

Harper turned.

"What?"

"Your scarf."

"Oh."

They went back. Elowen was still in the office. The scarf hung exactly where Harper had left it over one arm of a chair.

"You will need that," she said.

Harper took it.

"Probably Brannor."

Elowen smiled.

"Still predicting?"

"Manifesting."

Ava made a sound of pain. Outside, the evening stayed warm long after sunset. Jasper carried his own scarf over one shoulder. Plain grey. Unchosen. For a few more days, all of them were.