Isyd followed Vasyl and Klara as they made their way down the hundred stairs from the Library to the outside of the Academy. Klara could barely contain her excitement as if she’d be the one summoned there.

“You truly are full of surprises, Isyd,” she said. “First I hear that you fought the youngest Kazkan and faced Senior Lwieserce and now this? How in the world did you manage to get an invitation from Tutor Hidrss?”

“It’s not an invitation but rather a convocation,” Vasyl felt necessary to precise.

“It’s the same thing! He can enter the Atelier as a 1 st Year! How’s that possible?”

“I came first in a competition organised by Tutor Milwyk and he asked me what I wished for recompense,” Isyd said. “I asked to enter the Atelier.”

“And somehow, Tutor Hidrss has agreed. I’m curious to know why…”

They followed the dirt path across the Fields and soon saw the Atelier's familiar structure. If it was true that he had never entered, Isyd was somewhat familiar with the place, or at least the outside of it. It’s not like he had considered once or twice sneaking in the building or anything as nefarious as that… he simply was curious to learn more about the Atelier, its different doors and windows, its various defensive Wards and the schedule of the Senior Pupils who walked in and out. You just never knew when this kind of knowledge could come in handy…

The Atelier was a surprisingly large building, more than it initially appeared. It was mainly because it was built in the shadow of the Academy and was dwarfed by its high towers. Still, the Atelier was impressive in its own right. And it was noisy. It was the first thing you noticed as you approached; the sounds of a hundred people rushing about with the excitement of engineering and Artystic discoveries, the clamour of metal being stricken, of lumber being shaped. The Atelier was composed of a main building, the largest of them all, in the centre with smaller buildings that were organically attached to it decades after decades, as time had passed and expansion had been required. The outside walls were built out of faded bricks and the gambrel roof of the central building was entirely made out of clear glass. On its western flank, slightly offset from the heart of the activities rose a high chimney from which a black smog escaped.

“Oh, I wonder what they’re doing over there!” Naeht pointed at a window where they could see a Lightsphere blinking erratically through the colours of the rainbow. “I’ll be right back, Isyd!

She flew off and fazed through the walls. Isyd didn’t ever try to stop her; he knew that nothing could restrain Naeht once her curiosity had been picked. They had approached the main entrance by then. The open doors were heavy and thick, similar to those of barns, and in front of them sat on a high stool a Pupil of the 2 nd Opening with a ledger and a pen in his hands. He looked bored out of his mind but he straightened slightly when he saw them approaching.

Both Klara and Vasyl pulled out of their pocket what looked like a keychain and flashed it for the doorman to see. He nodded to them and scribbled something on his ledger. Isyd walked forward at the same moment a tall woman did. She stepped in front of him without even glancing at him. Her pace was brusque, the pace of someone who was in a hurry but didn’t want to be seen running. Taken by surprise by her sudden appearance, the doorman made the sound of a frightened rabbit and jumped out of her way to let her pass, not even verifying her keychain.

Klara was throwing daggers at the woman’s back, but Vasyl simply hunched Isyd forward.

“Hey, Albyn! This is Isyd Wybrany, the boy I was telling you about. I have to guide him through.”

“Yeah, sure,” Albyn said with his soft voice. “Let me just write his name first…”

“You are certainly not doing this!”

The voice had come from inside the Atelier. They turned to see that the woman had walked back and was now looking at poor Albyn with a furious gaze. She stood at least a head taller than everyone, with her straight black hair gathered in a tight ponytail and her vibrant, green eyes glaring intently. The young Pupil cowered under her, his eyes went wide in terror and his lower lips began to tremble.

“Are you blind or can you not see that this boy is of the 1 st Opening? You cannot let anyone of the 1 st Opening enter the Atelier, don’t you know that, Albyn Gryerm?”

“B-but… he s-said… they said…”

“I do not care about what they said! Are the rules not clear enough or are you too daft to understand them?”

“I-I… I didn’t…”

Vasyl stepped in front of the boy. “I am the one who asked it of him, Tekla. Leave him alone.”

“You should know the rules by now, Vasyl Amalb. Tutor Hidrss would not take kindly to your disobedience.”

“Run ahead and tell him yourself if you want and see if we care,” Klara said. “Tutor Hidrss is the one who asked us to bring Isyd here.”

The woman’s eyes flickered briefly to Isyd, and then she scuffed. “As if! He made his orders quite clear at the beginning of the years!”

Vasyl pulled out the convocation card and showed it to her. Klara was basically gloating as she saw the expression of changed from confident to surprise then to contrite. The woman threw back her shoulders and glared at them.

“You should have notified me of this.”

“No, we should not have! This is no business of yours, Tekla!” Klara said crossly.

The woman ignored her and turned away. “You keep him on a leash. If he breaks anything, it’s on your heads!” she said as she walked away.

“Arrogant witch!” Klara spat under her breath.

Vasyl let out a faint laugh and guided them inside, giving in passing a reassuring tap on Albyn’s shoulders.

“Who was she?” Isyd asked. “She wasn’t wearing any insignia.”

“It’s because she’s not a Pupil, not anymore at least,” Klara explained. “Tekla Dumnchory graduated five years ago, but she came back to the Academy three years ago when the previous Master of the Arcanic Arts passed away. She wanted the job, but the Dean chose Hidrss instead. He’s far more talented than she is.”

“Hidrss ?” Isyd threw a surprised look in her direction. It was the first time he heard someone refer to a Tutor simply by their name.

“Hidrss is not really keen on the formalities when we are in the Atelier,” Vasyl said. “He told us not to call him ‘Tutor’ as long as we are in the building. The only person that keeps calling him by his title is Tekla. Some people say she does it out of spite.”

“She’s just bitter she didn’t get the job!” Klara explained with a mischievous grin. “Now, she’s in a weird place; no longer a Pupil, but not yet a Tutor. Hidrss employs her as his assistant but she hates it!”

Isyd could believe it after his encounter with the woman. The main building of the Atelier housed three floors that opened on a central hall. It was the beating heart of the Atelier with Pupils of all Openings running around from one place to another, rushing up or down the stairs or simply seating against the supporting pillars and sketching. It was with this hall that all the subsections of the Atelier were connected. The glass roof provided plenty of light for the whole building, but Lightspheres were encrusted in the walls in some corners just in case.

Klara pointed at something. “You see that? That’s Hidrss’ office. That’s where you are going!”

“Let’s go, we already took too long,” Vasyl said.

They couldn’t take a step further, however, than a Pupil of the 3rd Opening came rushing to them breathlessly. His round face was covered in soot, but his shirt uniform was dripping wet as if he’d just taken a dip in the River.

“Finally, you guys are back! We fixed the VonSee Diagram, but the Third Seals broke on us and the [Pumping Spell] went wild! Tekla was on our ass ten minutes ago and she was really pissed! Now, Lukacis and Olyvia are arguing. Lukacis wants to start from scratch and says the project is doomed!”

Klara and Vasyl exchanged a panicked look and Klara let out a curse.

“We were gone only thirty minutes!” Vasyl growled. He turned to Isyd. “Listen, I think we need to go right now… You know where Hidrss’ office is now. You think you could just go there on your own?”

“Absolutely! Thank you for coming with me in the first place.”

Klara seemed about to say something else, but Vasyl grabbed her by the arm and they ran away after a final wave of goodbye.

Isyd headed for the stairs. His senses were overwhelmed by everything that was going on all around him. For one thing, the Atelier was overflowing with Grace. Usually, it was calm and steady like a lake, but here the Grace was like the rapids of a river. It kept on changing form, being sucked in [Spells] and [Hexes] or being released in bursts. The last time Isyd experienced something was during the Battle of the Waving Plains, and it made him feel on edge.

He dodged a flying paper plane that had a trail of smoke behind it, ducked as lighting sparked between the extremities of two [Arcanes] and stepped back just in time to not get caught by overly eager turbines that whipped up a strong Wind down the stairs. Everywhere he looked, there were [Arcanes] being worked on, the likes of which Isyd had never seen in his long life. Pupils of all origins and all Openings were experimenting with the Arts, trying to come up with [Arcanes] that could revolutionize the world. Out of all the studies of the Arts, the Arcanist Arts were the most recent and it could be truly felt by the excitation that gripped the Atelier; it was the joy and excitement of a child that had just learned to walk and was curious to explore the world.

Isyd reached the empty office of Tutor Hidrss and he turned to look down at the hall and the bustling of activities on the lower floors. For the second time since he had come back, Isyd was struck by how much mankind had lost when the Obcys attacked. He was overwhelmed by the same feeling he had when he’d first entered the Library. Sadness. All of this had been wiped up as mankind had to scramble for survival. Artysta of all backgrounds had been conscripted by the various governments as to fight the new threat and many had died in the early days of the War when nobody knew yet what the Obcys were and the effect of the [Taint] they brought along.

While trying to fix his Whitewater Staff, Isyd had concluded that everything he believed he knew about [Arcanes] was nothing but a scrub compared to the expanse of knowledge for the Arcanist Arts. This is why he had come to the Academy. He still had much to learn.

A Pupil of the 5 th Opening walked up the flight of stairs and peered at the empty office of Tutor Hidrss.

“Do you know where Hidrss is per chance?” she asked Isyd.

“No. I’m also waiting for him.”

“Shit…” the girl let out in a breath. “I don’t want to deal with Tekla… He’s surely downstairs, overwatching another project. I’ll go looking for him!”

She rushed back down at the same time Naeht fazed through a wall behind Isyd. She was breathless — as breathless as a ghost who didn’t breathe could be — and her eyes sparkled with wild excitement.

“Isyd! They have some Blysht here!”

Isyd’s eyes went wide. “Impossible! Blysht was only discovered ten years in the War!”

“I know but I swear this is it! It is real Blysht! Come and see!”

She flew past him to the staircase and Isyd followed after her, mind racing.

It can’t be… It’s too soon!

They went to the second floor and Naeht floated toward a meeting room. Like most rooms in the Atelier, it didn’t have a door— if it had one originally, it had been blown off its hinges at some point. Isyd spotted Tekla seated on one side of the round table and a man and a woman on the other side. On the table between them laid a handful of white crystals.

Isyd felt his heart drop in his chest. This was Blysht! He would have recognized the unassuming stones everywhere. Blysht looked a lot like the crystals that were excavated from the salt mines, but they were far, far more precious. Simply put, the Blysht was probably singlehandedly responsible for the slim victory of humanity over the Obcys. The discovery of this crystal and its properties had changed the War irrevocably. However, Blysht was found only a decade into the War and had never been referenced anywhere before. Seeing some here in front of his eyes forced Isyd to reassess this idea. Having the Blysht so early, before the War even started, changed everything!

Isyd wrapped himself in his darkveil and leaned on the railing, turning his back to the meeting room and casting his gaze on the hall. He pretended to be a simple Pupil waiting and watching, but in fact, his ears were strained to hear what was being discussed.

“… were telling you,” the woman was saying, “this has the potential to be something big. We’ve never seen a material like this… the Grace sensitivity—”

“So far, you failed to demonstrate any of those properties you mentioned in your report, Mrs Ravasz,” Tekla rudely interrupted. “Nothing to suggest that what you have witnessed was not just a result of an error in the experiment or a trick of the eye. It wouldn’t be the first-time people believed to have seen a Grace phenomenon and claim it to be something else…”

“It is something else!” Mrs Ravasz exclaimed. “It was iridescent!”

“I only see dull, salt crystal here, Mrs Ravasz.”

“Look, could we see Hidrss maybe?” the man finally interjected. “He was interested in what we told him.”

“ Tutor Hidrss happens to be busy at this moment,” Tekla answered coldly as she rose from her seat. “And I believe I gave enough of my time. Please, come back when you have solid evidence of your discoveries. Remember, however, that the Atelier can only financially support Arcanysta who are conducting productive research…”

There were further protests from the couple, but Isyd pretended not to notice them as they passed behind him and headed downstairs. From the corner of his eyes, Isyd observed Tekla and the two Arcanysta behind her, but most importantly his gaze lingered on the hessian sack that contained the Blysht. Isyd’s mind raced through several plans, but as he was about to follow after them, his senses perked up at a usual Concentration of Grace near him.

He spun on his heels and rushed down the hallway. At the same time, the same girl he’d seen earlier searching for Tutor Hidrss raced out of the room. Her eyes were wide in panic and her dark hair was frizzled.

“Tekla… D-do you know where she is?” she asked him.

“She just went downstairs!”

Isyd was about to do something else, but the woman raced past him. Following his instinct, Isyd stepped into the room she’d just left. This was where the Grace Concentration was going wild. On a workbench, amidst scraps of timber, glass and metal, was a glowing [Arcane]. It was a simple disc of wood where copper wires had been twisted into the shapes of the Commands and welded together.

Isyd could not figure out what the [Arcane] was supposed to do with just a glance, but the Song of Grace told him that something was wrong. The polished glass present had cracks all over them, the copper wire was glowing and, as he approached, he could feel the heat emanating in a wave. Despite that no one was using it, the [Arcane] remained activated for some reason and gather the surrounding Grace in ways it wasn’t supposed to. The Song of Grace became strident in Isyd’s mind and he knew he had to do something quickly.

He stepped in and put his hand a few centimetres above the broken [Arcane] and he began casting. First, a [Cold Wind] to cool it down. It was ineffective; the copper was still heating up. Isyd thought of summoning a [Cold Water] to quench the [Arcane]. He was about to cast it when a heavily accented voice spoke behind him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Isyd had been so concentrated, that he hadn’t noticed someone approaching behind him. Still, he didn’t have the luxury of looking to see who had come.

“The [Arcane] has three Water Essence in its last levels, if you cast a [Water Spell] you take the risk of sending it into Resonance and worsen the situation.”

With one glance, Isyd realized that the stranger was correct. In his hurry, he’d failed to see it. “What do we do then?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“The [Cold Wind] was a good initiative. Keep it there to gain time and at the same time, consider what to do to solve the problem. The heat is just a consequence of a spike in Grace Concentration. Basically, the Grace does not know where to go and what to do, so it flows through the copper wire and heats it up. What you need to do is…”

“…find somewhere to send the Grace! I must syphon it out of the [Arcane].”

He closed his eyes and let the Idpulse take over his mind. The Commands flashed in his mind and he let his instinct dictates how to arrange them in [Spells]. He placed three sink points situated at the corners of an equilateral triangle overlapping the [Arcane]. [STORE], [SHAPE], [RELEASE], [STORE], [SHAPE], [RELEASE]. Immediately after he had cast his [Spell], Isyd could see the glow of the wire dwindle and he felt the Grace escape through the sink points he created in the form of sparks of flame.

However, as he believed he’d succeeded, Isyd felt the Grace suddenly spike in front of him. His [Spells] collapsed instantly. The central piece of copper of the [Arcane] exploded in a flash of yellow light. Suddenly blinded, Isyd had just the time to jump back, knowing that it was already too late.

When the black spots in his eyes faded away and his vision recovered, Isyd was struck by what he saw. In front of him were a hundred droplets of molten copper about to rain on him. But they did not, they could not. The rain of molten metal was frozen in mid-air. Isyd turned back to see a young man standing at the entrance door, a single finger pointed in his direction.

“Had you let me finish, I would have told you to be careful with syphoning the Grace,” the young man said. “The overheat had weakened the overall structure and if you draw it out too fast”— he wiggled his finger at the molten copper— “this would happen.”

The man snapped his finger and all the floating metal suddenly flew towards him. Like a liquid flowing in an invisible stream, the copper coalesced into a single wire and wrapped itself around the man’s wrist. Cold and shiny, it was as if the copper had always been there.

“I was expecting you, Young Isyd. I am Dmitri Ivanovitch Hidrss, Master of the Arcanic Arts, but within the walls of the Atelier, I allow you to call me… Hidrss.”