Isyd followed the Tutor in direction of his office. He was in his thoughts. On their way back, Hidrss met up with the young girl who’d been looking for him. He admonished her for her carelessness to let such an [Arcane] go wild to such extent. He did so without raising his voice. From the way he spoke and stood, it would be hard to believe that he was actually a Tutor.

Hidrss had long, sandy hair with uneven bangs that fell in front of his youthful face. He wore a dirty coat and worn-out trousers, far from the usual immaculate uniform of the other Tutors. More importantly, Hidrss appeared to be very young! He looked even younger than Isyd, barely out of his teenage years! Isyd did not remember having met anyone who had reached the title of Great Artyst before their forties. He was well aware that when it came to Artysta, judging someone's age by their appearance was a risky endeavour. Even if not documented a lot, it was generally understood that people of very high Opening — high enough to be considered a Great Artyst at least — experienced a certain agelessness; they seem to age physically at a slower pace than normal folk. This did not mean that they were immortal or that they rejuvenated, but it would not be surprising to meet a Great Artyst that looked fifty years old while being twice that age. After all, Isyd was proof enough of that. But even in that case, Isyd was aware that he was an exception. Artysta could usually reach that Opening after a lifetime dedicated to studying the Arts and by then, they had already reached their older years before the agelessness set in — like it was probably the case with Tutor Milwyk and many other Tutors.

But despite his physical appearance, Isyd had no problem believing that Hidrss was a Great Artyst. Isyd’s eyes flew once again to the young man’s wrist where the copper wire was wrapped. Isyd could clearly remember the rain of molten metal about to fall on him and yet the man had frozen it mid-air. Wordlessly and at a distance. This was proof of a strong Idpulse, probably even stronger than his own. Moreover, Isyd was not deaf to the Song of the Grace and he could not help but hear how the Grace sang melodiously all around the young Tutor. In his past life, Isyd had heard the Grace sang that way only a few times and he knew what that meant: Dmitri Ivanovitch Hidrss was Blessed by the Grace.

They entered the man’s office and Isyd took a seat in front of the cluttered desk while Hidrss stood on the other side.

“I admit I was curious to meet you, Young Isyd,” the man said without meeting Isyd’s gaze. “Adryn speaks highly of you.”

The man had a thick accent associated with the person coming from Matizna, the empire far in the east.

“Ardyn?”

“Milwyk. He says that the last time he’d seen such a talented Pupil was when I first arrived in the Academy.”

“I’m flattered by Tutor Milwyk’s compliments and I am glad that he agreed to my request.”

“Aye, your request… you are lucky that I owed him for a service, else you wouldn’t be here…”

Hidrss turned his back to him. “Well, now that you finished your visit, you can leave now, Young Isyd. I’m sure you’ll find your way out.”

Isyd narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t ask to enter the Atelier just for a touristic visit.”

“For what reason then? You are the 1 st Year and of the 1 st Opening, you have no business in my Atelier beyond visiting.”

Isyd pulled out his Whitewater Staff out of his darkveil and laid it on the desk between them. He did not fail to notice Hidrss’ eyes flashing with interest at the sight of his palcat.

“My palcat is an [Arcane] and it is broken,” Isyd declared. “I came to the Atelier in hope of fixing it.”

“May I?” Hidrss extended a polite hand toward the staff and, with a nod of Isyd, seized it.

“Resswood, eh? And treated in addition to that…” Hidrss muttered more for himself than for Isyd. “247 faults— no, 254… or maybe 261…hmm… hard to say with precision due to the sink points… still, definitely less than 361 I’d wager…”

He put back down the palcat, grabbed in its place a rubber ball and began fidgeting with it.

“This a strong [Arcane] and a precious one as well.”

“Can you fix it?” Isyd felt hope rise in his chest.

“Perhaps. But do not expect me to do it here and now. The Atelier proposes a repairing service for [Arcane], you should go through that.”

Isyd sighed. “I do not have the money to afford the reparation. Not for an [Arcane] of this calibre. I assume it would be very expensive.”

“You assume correctly. Probably a handful of Golds.”

Well, there was the confirmation. Totally out of his means. “That’s why I asked to enter the Atelier. I was hoping we could come to a sort of arrangement...”

Hidrss started laughing, a genuine laugh that was once again a reminder of how young he was.

“An arrangement? I don’t think you’ll find any of it here, Young Isyd. My Atelier is no place for haggling... Plus, I have a hard time imagining what you could offer in exchange for me to repair such a complex [Arcane] and I am not one to do charity...”

Isyd was starting to feel a bit annoyed but he did his best not to show it.

“Fine then. Grant me access to the Atelier so that I can repair it myself.”

“No. You are a 1 st Year and of the 1 st Opening. If it wasn’t for Ardyn, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. So there’s no way I let you within those walls longer than necessary.”

“Can you not make an exception? I’m sure Tutor Milwyk can vouch for me.”

Again, Hidrss went out laughing. “No exception will be accorded, Young Isyd. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for the next semester. Now—”

“Is it because I lack the skills? I have a hard time seeing what one semester of difference would make.”

“Lack of skills?” Hidrss turned his head one way, pondering. “Yes and no. Do you know why I dislike the newbies?”

“No, but I’m curious to know,” Isyd said scathingly.

“They have the arrogance of youth. I cannot fault them for it because they can’t help it. Still, I cannot afford their carelessness in my Atelier. Artysta, and especially Arcanysta play with powerful forces. Summoning wildfires, whipping out storms, splitting mountains, all of those things are theoretically possible for anyone who has control over the Grace. There on, it is easy to see how someone can become drunk with this power. But Artysta is not God and this is something that they must internalize early on. No matter how grand they believe themselves to be, they are insignificant in face of the immensity of the Holy Grace. The arrogance must be replaced by humbleness.

“From my personal experience, it takes at least a year of formal education to humble the Artyst. After a few months in the Academy, they are forced to recognize that they knew in fact very little as they contemplate the bottomless pit of knowledge that is the study of the Arts. From there, it is a lifetime spent respecting and appreciating this lack of knowledge. There is always something else to learn and to discover, another problem or paradigm to crack open… This is the difference one semester makes. You, Isyd Wybrany, are too young.”

For the first time since they had begun discussing, Isyd met the young man’s eyes. Pale, green eyes that appeared too old for the face they belonged to. They shone with the dull light of hard-earned wisdom, a light that Isyd knew well since it was the same he faced every time he saw his own reflection. This recognition was the thing that stopped Isyd from losing his temper. He was too young? Him? What kind of bullshit this was!

“You look awfully young as well, Tutor,” Isyd felt necessary to point out.

“I’m the exception.”

The young man grinned. The words had been said without a hint of arrogance. Hidrss had just stated a fact, the same way he would have confirmed that the sky was indeed blue. Before he could stop himself, Isyd felt a grin appear on his face.

What an interesting fellow…

Isyd rose from his seat and pocketed his palcat. “Must I prove that I’m an exception as well? The humbleness you speak of, I have already experienced it and it is why I am here in the Academy: I have realized how little I know and I am willing to learn.”

“I recognize that you have talent, Young Isyd. Ardyn mentioned it to me and I saw it with my own eyes when you tried to stop the [Arcane] from exploding. But I speak from experience when I say that talent is not everything… Do not be in a hurry, Young Isyd, and I will meet again next semester.”

“I agree that talent is not everything, but I am afraid I cannot afford to wait. As you have said, the study of the Arts is a bottomless pit and a lifetime of study is not enough, so every second matters. I won’t wait for a semester, Tutor Hidrss. I will come back with the proof that I am as much an exception as you are.”