That evening after dinner, the boys, from the eldest down to the youngest, gathered in the common room.  Bra-Mine had six sons of his own of which Bra-Neche was the eldest. Gathered among them were the fosterlings: cousins of Bra-Neche through his father.  Their fathers patrolled the borders.  Then there were the boys raised among the cousins who were of the proper bloodlines to be Sons of Suril; boys Maraneth raised to provide proper care for the young Imperials.    

Bra-Neche kneeled on the floor and his father cut his hair.  He was not shorn as had been threatened, but enough was being removed to show he had shamed himself or his family in some manner.  As Bra-Mine shortened his eldest son’s locks, he told the others why he was doing it:

“Our blood line is pure.  Those that we mate with must also have bloodlines that are pure.  Bra-Neche Chose while he was not under his father’s guidance.  His Chosen is from one of the border schools.”

Some of the older boys gasped.  They all knew of the border schools.  The guards were educated there.  Occasionally, a boy was found to be a Son of Suril, but most of the boys bled were not Chosen.  Imperials of questionable linage Chose from the boys found at the border schools because the boys of proper lineage would not have them.

“Bra-Neche has shamed us all.”

There was murmured assent through the boys. 

Once he had finished cutting his son’s hair, Bra-Mine separated two locks in the front, one on each side of Bra-Neche’s face.

“Bra-Neche has Chosen.” Bra-Mine smiled at his son as he braided the first of the two locks.  “Bra-Neche is loved.  His Chosen is bound.”  Bra-Mine braided the second lock of hair then adjusted the binds so the golden bands fell evenly at chin level.  “Look upon your brother,” Bra-Mine helped Bra-Neche stand, “for he is now a man.”

The boys stood and greeted Bra-Neche as a boy would a man from the youngest to the eldest.