Vilriver was exactly like Isyd remembered it to be: full of life. The streets rang with the noise of horse hooves and cartwheels clicketing on the pavement, merchants hailing passers-by to buy their products and a crowd of people going on their daily business. It was the middle of autumn and the air was dry and salty on the tongue. Everything was the same. And somehow, everything was different.

Vilriver had not changed, but Isyd had. Drastically.

Back in the Old Ziemia, when he had first arrived in Vilriver, he had been a timid youth of fourteen years old who had used all his funds to pay himself a trip to the city to try his chance at entering the Academy. In the end, he’d been too much of a coward to even attempt the entrance examination and had instead applied to become a clockmaker apprentice.

Now, Isyd was older, much older. And he’d been changed by the War in more ways than one.

He took a first step outside of the inn he spent the nights in and was immediately blinded by the afternoon sun. Had the Sun always been so bright, so warm? The memory of it had slowly faded after it had permanently been covered by ashclouds. Isyd could not help but smile at feeling the direct heat of the Sun on his skin. He had a hard time stopping himself from staring right at the blinding light.

“There are so many people, Isyd!” Naeht exclaimed next to him. “It’s like we’re back in the Holy Bastion!”

She flew right past him and observed the people rushing about with curious interest.

Isyd was more hesitant at taking the next step. He’d never been good with crowds, to begin with, but the time spent in the War had made that even worse. The noise of a crowd was too much similar to the sound of a battlefield. Even when he stayed in the Holy Bastion, the last city of mankind back in the Old Ziemia, Isyd had remained apart from people, preferring the comfort of his room or the stables.

He wasn’t used to seeing so many people moving around him anymore, but he had to remind himself that Vilriver was a vibrant city and an important trading hub. He would have to get used to it, one way or another if he wanted to get anything done.

Isyd took a large breath and began walking.

Fortunately, he still remembered vaguely the layout of the city since he had spent a couple of years here. Memories flowed back to him at each corner of a street, at each familiar shopfront or monument. It was a good thing because it meant that Isyd did not need to ask around to find his way to his destination.

By squinting his eyes, Isyd could already perceive the outlines of the towers of the Academy of Holy Vigour. This was where he was heading to. If his memories served him right, the entrance examination had to close up tomorrow. Isyd meant to pass the exam on this very day.

The Academy was by far the most impressive building of Vilriver. Its three towers were visible from anywhere in the city and people came from all around the country for the possibility to study between its old, grey stones. The Academy was a complex of several dozen buildings that served as housings for the students and teaching grounds for the divisions such as Humanities, Philosophy, Theology and, most importantly, the Holy Arts, or simply Arts for short. The latter was the one Isyd was applying for.

For what it offered, the entrance was quite normal. It was a simple archway, flanked on both sides by a statue that each held one symbol of the two Crowns. On the archway was carved the motto of the Academy of Holy Vigour: “First the acorn, then the forest.”

Isyd was not the only one entering the Academy; he saw many people rushing past the statues and he decided to follow after them. The archway led to a courtyard where a crowd of applicants was waiting. Contrary to what could be expected, not all of them were young. In fact, the age range was quite varied. In the queue ahead of him, Isyd caught a glance of two middle-aged women and at least seven men who looked past their forties, and a handful even older. They presented long beards, white hair or none at all, some standing tall and proud while others looked tired after having travelled so long and so far to stand on the grounds of the school.

Still, the majority of the people present fell on the younger side. Boys and girls, some barely entering their teenage years, full of energy and excitement and with the confidence of youth glowing in their eyes. In the case of Isyd… well, Isyd had returned with his old body, after thirty years of War. But the thing was that Isyd had not aged that much since his twenties when the Rifts had first opened, a consequence of what the Obcys had done to him. This meant that despite being older by three decades at least, Isyd still looked like a young man freshly out of school. In truth, it did not really matter because in the end everyone was allowed to enter the Academy, no matter their age, gender, birthplace or social status.

The waiting queue was long but was progressing quite fast. At the end of it stood three men who wore the uniform of the Academy and had to be senior students. When the turn had come, they directed the applicant in front of a wall upon which a [Arcane] three meters wide had been carved. A [Arcane] was a [Spell] that had been drawn or etched on a physical object to extend its duration in time and this one specifically represented seven concentric circles interlinked with spirals that sprung from the centre.

As Isyd was approaching the head of the queue, he had a better view of the testing ground. The applicant, a young girl with a smug expression on her face was asked to put her palm against the base of the wall and to wait. A few seconds passed then suddenly a white light sparked at the most inner circle and flowed outward until it reached and filled the second level of etching. Some whisps of light even made it to the third level, but not enough to fill that circle entirely.

“1st Opening!” the examiner called out. He inscribed something on the board he held and pointed to the backdoor that led inside the Academy.

“What does this [Arcane] do, Isyd?” Naeht asked next to him. “I’ve never seen that one before.”

“It’s one they use to test people’s Grace. You have to be of the 1st Opening at least to be accepted as a Pupil of the Academy.”

“Only the 1st? Well, that will be super easy for you, barely an inconvenience!”

Isyd smiled but said nothing. The next candidate was an older man with short hair and a scrawny beard. He put his hand against the wall and the inner circle of the [Arcane] lit up. The light then flowed to the second circle, but not nearly enough to fill it entirely. The man tried to put more force into the wall, but this did not help at all; he wasn’t of the 1st Opening, and there was nothing he could do for now to change that. The man was redirected by the examiner to the exit door of the courtyard.

Next was Isyd. He approached the wall and could finally examine it with more care. Up close, he noticed that the grooves of the etching had been filled with a transparent resin that looked like molten glass.

Resin of freywood, I assume. That would explain the sensitivity... That specific resin had been known to be reactive to Grace stimulation. But the [Arcane] was more than simply the resin and the circles. Isyd noticed the smaller [Spells] that had been etched alongside the grooves. This testing [Arcane] was actually a complex [Hex] that had been carefully designed and calibrated as any other measuring instrument had to be.

“Others are waiting, young man. Please, proceed with the test,” said the examinator who was getting impatient.

Isyd put his left hand on the stone and waited. At once he felt the effects of the [Arcane]: the sweet taste on his tongue and the jitters in his belly as the Grace was forced through him and sucked into the [Spell]. The inner circle lit up immediately followed by the second circle. The light filled that level perfectly, nothing more, nothing less.

“1st Opening! Follow the attendee inside the Academy, please. The enrolment steps will be explained to you. Next!”

Isyd nodded and followed the young woman who was waving at him and smiling. She also wore the Academy uniform, white and red. At his side, he noticed Naeht who was outraged.

“Isyd! The [Arcane] got it wrong! You’re not of the 1st Opening! You have to tell them!”

“Calm down, Naeht,” he whispered to her. “The [Arcane] worked perfectly. I just did it on purpose.”

“Why so? What are you planning, Isyd?”

“Nothing for now. I just don’t want to attract attention, that’s all.”

She threw him a suspicious glance and started pouting.

“Good afternoon and congrats on the application!” the woman said when he reached her. “3rd Year and 3rd Opening, Klara Utro, here to guide you through your first days in the Academy. What’s your name?”

“Isyd Wybrany.” He shook the hand she offered him.

“Well, Isyd, welcome to the Academy of Holy Vigour! You are now a Pupil of the Academy for the upcoming year. Before we begin, I have to hand you this.”

She gave him a gilded broach that was a single “V” within one circle. Isyd noticed that she also had one pinned on her uniform, only the “V” was within three tight circles.

“This broach is the sign that you are a Pupil of the 1st Opening. Every new Pupil is assigned to a Tutor of the Arts for the entire duration of their scholarship and you are the last of Tutor Milwyk. I’ll present you to his room a bit later, but first, we must make sure that you are well accommodated. Do you have any belongings to take care of?”

Isyd had left the inn with everything he owned in his bag. There wasn’t much in it to begin with: a set of tunic, pants and socks, a wrapped blanket, a pouch of coins and a small knife.

“I have everything here already,” Isyd said. “But I don’t have enough money to pay for a room…”

Klara smiled. “To pay? No, there’s no need for that at the beginning. The Common Dorms are free to all Pupils. You’d be fine there.” She looked at her wristwatch. “Since you arrived here a bit late, we won’t be able to visit all the Academy today. I still have a little bit of free time though, so is there something specific you wanna see before I leave you?”

“Yes, I’d like to know where the library is.”

“The Library? Really? Okay…You know, usually, new Pupils ask to see the classes or the restaurants or the swimming pool, but sure, why not… Follow me, we’ll take the path outside, it’s faster that way.”

They went out back to the courtyard where people were still being tested. There were still half a hundred applicants but the queue was dwindling as the afternoon was ending. Klara led Isyd across a sports field and through some canteens. She used this opportunity to point to him where the Common Dorms were as well as the eating place for its residents. The Library was one of the central buildings around which the rest of the Academy had been built, but instead of going through the front door, Klara sneaked them in through a service door.

“Here we are, the Library. There’s probably a book about everything and everyone given how big it is.”

It wasn’t an exaggeration. When the Rifts had opened, many cities had been destroyed and much of the knowledge stored in them had been gone forever. With all resources becoming scarcer and scarcer, books quickly became something rare and valuable in the hands of interested people. In the later years of the War, there had been an effort of safekeeping made as all the books that could be salvaged were declared under the jurisdiction and protection of the Holy Banner.

But the library of the Holy Banner paled in comparison to what Isyd was now gazing at. Walls upon walls of bookshelves in every direction, reaching as high as the ceiling would allow it — a ceiling that was made entirely out of glass and let the light of the twilight sun pour into the room. There were long tables for Pupils to seat and work and ottomans next to hearths for more comfortable reading. Klara explained to Isyd how the Library was first divided into broad subjects such as Natural Sciences, History or Theology, then further split into more precise categories such as Biology, Astronomy or Alchemy, then finally sorted out in alphabetical order with the names of the authors. Pupils were free to borrow most of the books present so long as they notified the Librarians beforehand.

“It’s mostly empty now because the classes have yet to start,” Klara said. She turned to him with a curious look. “So, that’s all you want me to show you for today?”

“Yes. I will stay here for a bit before going to my room. Don’t worry for me, I remember the way out.”

“Okay... Well, you know what? Let’s meet up here tomorrow so I can give you a proper tour. Eighth Hour, how does that sound?”

They agreed on it, shook hands, and Klara left the Library. Naeht perked up next to Isyd; she was done sulking for now.

“I have never seen so many books before...”

“It is impressive indeed.”

“I don’t like when you’re secretive like that, Isyd! Just tell me what you’re planning, I wanna know! Why are you pretending that you are of the 1st Opening? It’s not like you need to learn everything from the start!”

Isyd smirked. “Actually, I do. Everything I know about the Holy Arts, I learned it on the fly at the frontline of the War. Do you know what’s the main difference between me and someone like Great Artyst Kazian? Fundamental knowledge. The foundations of my Arts are weak and unstable and consequently, everything that I have learned afterwards is as well. Experience is fine and all, but it can only take you so far and you will eventually reach your limits without knowing how to surpass them. This is one of the reasons why we’re here, Naeht: I plan to study the Arts properly this time. With a strong base, I can raise my knowledge even higher than before.”

“Oh, I see... So, you plan to become a Great Artyst like the old Kazian?”

“That’s the direction I’m heading for right now, but that’s not all. The other reason why I became a Pupil is this specifically.” He waved at the Library all around them. “There’s a lot of knowledge stored in this place, knowledge that was lost because of the War. We have a new opportunity now, and I wonder what we could learn. What happened to us? How did we go back in time? What can we learn to prepare for the War? Was there mention of the Obcys in the past a long time ago in History? More recently? What about the Rifts? What were they specifically? So many questions...”

Naeht’s eyes were now wide. She approached a bookshelf and tried to touch a book with her ethereal hands; her hand went through it as usual. “So many questions...” she repeated in awe. “There is so much for us to do, Isyd. To prepare before the War... Do you really think we can do it, Isyd?”

“It is not a matter of ‘can’, Naeht. It never was. We will do it. There’s no other alternative. Now, let us see what we can learn about time travel shall we...”