“So… what are you gonna do to the boy?” Naeht asked as they walked down the hallways of the Academy to Tutor Milwyk’s office.

“I’m thinking about it,” Isyd said. “I don’t want to create problems but at the same time, I don’t want to be a pushover.”

“You know, I’m starting to think that all of this would be easier if you hadn’t lied about your Opening at the entrance exam. No one here would dare to attack you if they knew how powerful you actually were…”

“I wouldn’t be sure about that, Naeht. “Power in any form attracts the worst kind of people. I do not need the attention, or at least not now. Plus, there is more than one reason why I decided to pretend I was of the 1st Opening.”

“Oh, really? And what are those reasons?”

“Well, for one thing, Pupils of the 3rd Opening and higher have responsibilities regarding the Academy. They must act as guides and seniors to the Pupils of the 1st and 2nd Opening and assist the Tutors when they require it. Just look at how often Klara Utro was on my back during the first week. That’s the kind of job expected of her. Another thing is that the higher Opening you are, the more of a rarity you become. Let’s say, for instance, I presented myself as of the 7th Opening and insisted to study at the Academy. Then, people would have demanded to know where I was from. Nobody can grow higher than the 3rd Opening without any kind of training in the Arts, so they would have asked who taught me, and which Academy I attended in the past. They would want to know about my parents, my childhood, my hometown and so on… What would I do if they discover that Isyd Wybrany is supposed to be an orphan of thirteen years old instead of a young man of twenty-two? What would I do if they become too curious and begin asking questions about my right arm? Too much attention is not something that we want Naeht, trust me.”

“But the fact is that you are attracting attention. Since they can’t see me, I can listen to their conversations and believe me; Pupils of the 1st Opening know about you. You are not part of any Ring, you are good at all the classes, you spend all your free time alone and in the Library and you have grave burns on your right arm – or so they say. Despite what you’re saying, Isyd, you are not the perfect image of discretion you think you are!”

Isyd smirked. “Being entirely invisible wasn’t the point either. I’m walking a thin edge between perking the interest and gathering too much attention. Don’t worry, I don’t plan to remain of the 1st Opening for too long. I just want for my “growth” in the Academy to appear at least plausible.”

“Still, imagine what we could do to Olav Kazkan if we didn’t have to pretend…” Naeht sighed dreamily.

“We must remember that he is just a child. He’s a prick, but a child nonetheless. I’m not gonna bully a kid.”

“But he is the bully! He started it, you didn’t do anything. Also, he’s not that much of a child either. He looks like a young man to me, probably seventeen or eighteen.”

“Still too young to make this remotely fair.”

Silence fell back between them as they walked by busy hallways and made their way through the crowd of Pupils finishing their afternoon class.

“Yet, he stole your knife…” Naeht finally said, in a heavy tone.

“Yet he stole my knife.” Isyd nodded. “He will pay for this. This, I assure you.”

They had arrived in front of Tutor Milwyk’s room. The errand boy waved them goodbye and rushed back to where he came from, leaving Isyd alone in front of the door of heavy dark oak. He knocked once and announced his name to the door. A heartbeat later it pivoted to let him through.

It wasn’t the first time Isyd stepped into that room, he had done so the day after the registration to present himself to the man who would become his main Tutor for the upcoming semester. The room had not changed one bit, and Isyd was sure of it the moment he walked the threshold. For a reason he hadn’t identified yet, Tutor Milwyk’s study had an abnormal concentration of Grace. It sang in Isyd’s ear and perked up his senses. Naeht next to him appeared more vibrant and tangible and in certain turns of the light, one could almost believe she was physically there with him. Isyd breathed in the saturated air and enjoyed the energy it spread throughout his body.

“The day Graces you, Young Isyd! I was expecting you!” The voice of Tutor Milwyk came from the back of the study. The room was shaped like a T, with the door opening in the main corridor where bookshelves spread along the walls. Lightspheres burned like small suns from the chandeliers where they hang. Isyd followed the sound of the voice and turned left at the intersection. Behind an imposing desk sat Tutor Milwyk. From his back poured the sunlight while next to him, pieces of paper with scribbles on them floated in the air as if they’d been pinned to an invisible blackboard. It was in fact not that far from the truth since Isyd could perceive the air had been [SHAPED] into a solid matter, but he couldn’t see where was the [Spell] or the [Arcane] responsible for it. Along the notes, there were also words and sentences as well as beginnings of [Hexes]written in a glowing blue that floated to the rhythm of the airflow within the room.

Isyd took all of this in and refrained from smiling too openly despite being internally amused. This kind of weird use of the Arts all around was exactly how he would have imagined the study room of a Great Artysta such as Tutor Milwyk. The professor pointed him to a chair, and Isyd sat down.

“I hope you had a good day, Young Isyd! I called you here to felicitate you personally for your win in yesterday’s competition. I think I repeat myself by saying that I’m impressed by your accomplishments.”

“Thank you, Tutor Milwyk. It’s all thanks to your guidance.”

“Allow me to doubt that. It’s been decades since I last met someone as Blessed by the Grace as you seem to be. Sometimes I even doubt that you are truly of the 1st Opening as the entrance exam made you to be.”

Isyd simply smiled. “This reassures me regarding the next semester then.”

“Oh, yes! By then we can hope that you would have reached the 2nd Opening at the very least! I will follow your rise in the Academy with great attention. This ties into the other reason why I called you here. You see, I want to make sure that your win of yesterday motivates you and the rest of your classmates even further and I think that the best way would be by a gift. Thus, I thought of granting you a personal favour of your choosing, as long as it is within my means as a Tutor.”

Isyd’s eyes widened. That’s the first time he was hearing of such a thing for an unofficial competition such as yesterday was. A favour from a Tutor? This had great weight in the Academy… By recency bias, his mind immediately went on Olav and Isyd considered snitching on him to Tutor Milwyk. He stopped himself right in time as Kewin’s words came back to him. The Kazkan was an important family and even with the support of Tutor Milwyk, he wasn’t sure he had anything to gain by making this fight public. So far, Olav’s enmity was only known by the Pupils and it may be best to keep it that way for the long run.

“If you cannot come up with anything right now, I can give you time to think,” Tutor Milwyk reassured him.

“No, it’s okay. I found something.”

“Let me hear, then, Young Isyd.”

“I want to access the Atelier.”

There was a moment of silence in which Tutor Milwyk stared blankly at Isyd. Then, the old man began to laugh heartily. Isyd narrowed his eyes. That’s the second time people laughed as he mentioned attending the Atelier, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

“Entering the Atelier is impossible as a Pupil of the 1st Year or Opening,” Tutor Milwyk said after his bout of laughter had passed.

“So, I was told. But I was hoping to find a way around the interdiction. I didn’t think it would be beyond your means as a Tutor.”

“It may as well be. The Atelier is the domain of Tutor Hidrss. Here in the Academy, each Tutor tries to remain within the boundaries of their own field. I would be gravely overstepping my boundaries if I intervened in any way on the matters of the Atelier.”

Isyd sighed. Well, he hadn’t hoped for much anyway. Tutor Milwyk did not fail to notice his disappointment.

“I would advise you to think of another favour, but if it is really what you wish for… well, I can surely try something. Keep in mind that I cannot promise you any success.”

“I would be extremely grateful for your help, Tutor!” Isyd heartily said.

“Aye, aye… This favour you asked me is quite the daunting one, Young Isyd. Significantly more than I anticipated” – he took off his half-moon glasses and began cleaning them – “and I have half a mind of asking a small favour in return, just to even the balance…”

“I have nothing against mutual help,” Isyd said. At the point where he was, Isyd was ready to do anything that would increase his chance to get into that blasted Atelier.

Tutor Milwyk’s gaze turned shrewd. “Yesterday night, Young Jadwia came to ask for guidance regarding her failure at the Balance test. She is talented and motivated to improve, as I think you may already know. I suspect she will come back to me with more questions. I would like you to be the one answering them.”

“You want me to teach her?” Isyd asked, incredulous.

“Who better than a fellow Pupil to understand her difficulties and guide her? It is only because I have confidence in your skills that I can ask this of you, Young Isyd. If there are any questions you are unable or not confident enough to answer, send her back to me. Still, I think that you two have much to gain from a studying partnership…”

A studying partnership, eh? Isyd was not fooled. This was only the latest attempt of Tutor Milwyk trying to make him socialize more and join a Ring. Isyd’s first instinct was to refuse; he pretended to be of the 1st Opening specifically because he wanted to avoid such responsibilities.

But on the other hand… Isyd recalled the young woman practising alone in the Fields late at the night. Tutor Milwyk was right: the girl was nothing but dedicated. After all, one would argue that she was supposed the real winner of the competition given Isyd’s special circumstances. Inside the inner pocket of his darkveil, Isyd felt the weight of his palcat and he nodded.

“Alright. You try to make me enter the Atelier and in exchange, I help Jadwia.”

Tutor Milwyk gave him a wide smile and his eyes sparkled. Taking his leave, Isyd could shake off the feeling that he just got played.