The Naming of Recognition

The Naming of Recognition

The Highest Honor of Huemanity

When a returned Hue presents something the Glasshold Consortium judges to be truly new (something that widens the city’s perception of what is possible), the Prismatic do not debate in closed chambers. They act at once.

At the next dawn, every bell in Huetopia falls silent. Work stops. Airships hover. Even the great sundial-tower’s shadow seems to pause. The returned Hue is led to the foot of the Alabaster Frame. There, on the polished plaza of shimmering glass that rings the tower’s base, the Prismatic form a perfect circle around them.

One steps forward and lays two objects at the Hue’s feet:

1. A single pane of flawless crystal-glass, no larger than a dinner plate, completely unmarked.
2. A stylus forged from a sliver of hardened pool essence.

No words are spoken aloud. The only sound is the soft breathing of onlookers (Hues on balconies, Awakened Animals on rooftops, any visitors of the city lucky enough to view this rare event).

The Hue kneels. With the stylus they etch one symbol (never words, always a single sigil that captures the essence of their discovery). Whatever it is carved must be born from the offering itself for all to remember.

When the final stroke is complete, the pane is raised and brought across the plaza, to be installed on the inner wall of the Alabaster Frame, sliding it into the one empty space that has been waiting for it since the city’s founding. A soft chime (like a single drop of water striking still glass) rings through every district as the pane locks into place. At that exact moment every Reflection in Huetopia feels warmth bloom in their chest, as though the pool itself has exhaled in pride.

Only then does the eldest Prismatic speak, voice carrying without effort to the farthest watchtower:

“From this day forward, you are the name inspired by the sigil. Your first name is retired. Your number is forgotten. You have become the living proof that we are not finished yet.”

The city answers with one voice (Hues, Awakened, visitors, even the Conrasu who rarely enter the walls):

“Watch us keep becoming, tomorrow is out Masterpiece”

The newly Named is never again addressed by their old birth-number. From that sunrise on, they are Poolfather, Brackenwalk, Starweaver, or whatever the discovery has made them. Their pane glows softly on the inner wall for the rest of their days, and when they finally dissolve back into the pool (figuratively), the pane dims but never breaks (a permanent star in the ever-growing constellation of Huetopia’s first century).