Tears of Dusk

Isyd strolled away from the laboratory, looking for Naeht. The girl enjoyed very much being in the Atelier since it reminded her of the Holy Bastion back in Old Ziemia. It had something to do with the constant flow of people in and out of the buildings — be they Pupils, Tutors or normal citizens — as well as the Arcanes and [Hexes] that were firing off everywhere at once. Naeht would usually fly out on her own at the moment Isyd entered the Atelier, her attention perked up by some contraptions or another. She would come back a couple of hours later, breathless and eager to tell him about everything she had seen.

After taking a turn and getting down the stairs, he didn’t stumble on Naeht but instead on Klara Utro. She didn’t notice him at first as she sat there against the wall, hidden in the half-light. This hallway, this entire part of the Atelier in fact, was kind of out of the way, most often used as a dumping place for all the useless stuff. At first, Isyd considered making a U-turn; he didn’t feel like talking to anyone but Naeht at the moment. Unfortunately, Klara finally noticed him before he could commit. She rose and dusted off her uniform and waved at him.

“Grace, Isyd! It’s been a little while, how are you doing?”

“Grace, Klara. I’m all right, thank you for asking.”

Klara glanced behind him as if expecting someone to follow suit. “Just to make sure, Tekla isn’t after you, is she?”

“She ordered me out of the room, so I don’t think so, no.”

“Thank God! I’m actually trying to avoid her. She’s having it out for me and since Hidrss left, she turned the Atelier into a living hell!”

Isyd remembered catching a glance or two of Klara receiving the same kind of punishment as him. Unlike him, Tekla’s exploitation seemed to take its toll. Klara Utro was usually an example of bubbling energy but right now she didn’t look her best; her eyes lacked their spark, and she appeared overall frazzled.

“I saw she subjected you to the same treatment,” Klara said. “Why do you still bother coming here? It’s not like you have classes to attend or anything…”

“I have stuffed to do in the Atelier.”

Klara’s eyes regain a bit of their mischievous glint. “ Stuff, eh? Perchance, does it has anything to do with this secret Commission Hidrss had opened before leaving with the newly hired couples of Arcanysta? Some say seeing you around them from time to time…”

“If you know about it, then you also know that there’s isn’t much I can say about it. Hidrss asked us to keep it a secret.”

“Well, you’re quite unlucky that Hidrss left you because now you’re stuck under Tekla’s thumb…”

“She’ll get tired of it,” Isyd said with a shrug, though he didn’t really believe it. “Is there… a particular reason why she’s acting like this?”

“Do people need a reason to be jerks? She’s petty and mean and with Hidrss gone, she can make us all as miserable as she is!”

“Still, she doesn’t go around and abuse everyone. She’s rude to everyone, yes, but she seems to be particular about you and me… Did you do something to offend her?”

“Tekla and I never got along; it was like that since I entered the Atelier two years ago. As far as her recent punishments are concerned, well…” Klara blushed and her eyes darted away. “Well, let’s say she caught me saying a few… a few questionable words to describe her. Among other things, she didn’t quite appreciate having her mouth compared to the gaping cloaca of a laying hen, go figure why…”

Isyd couldn’t help but smile at that. “Truly surprising… People nowadays get offended so easily!”

“Absolutely! I mean, there was also a pun regarding her attitude of a churlish horse and her face similar to an ass. It was quite a clever joke if I must say so myself,” Klara added with a sly smile.

Isyd’s eyes looked above her shoulders as he felt a group of Pupils passing by. Klara turned her head a second later when she heard the rumble of conversations.

“Finally, they’re done with their meeting!” she said. She then cupped her hands around her mouth. “Vasyl!” she hailed.

Isyd flinched behind her as he saw most of the heads turned in their direction. The Pupils resumed their walk, except for two that remained behind. As he saw them approach, Isyd wondered if it would be rude for him to walk away.

He recognized the face of Vasyl Amalb as he approached, but not the man next to him. He wore the uniform but had discarded the blazer despite the frigid temperatures. He looked older, at least in his mid-twenties, with curly brown hair, dark eyes and an arrogant smile.

“Klara, I thought we would meet at the usual place,” Vasyl said.

“Tekla knows about it and I didn’t want to test my chances,” Klara explained. “I preferred waiting for you here.”

“Good call,” he said. He turned to Isyd who stood further back. “Grace to you, Isyd Wybrany! How are—”

“So, this is the famous Wybrany!” the man next to Vasyl exclaimed. “I thought I recognized the little guy! My name is Enmeel Rybak, 7 th Year and 4 th Opening, nice to meet you!”

He extended his hand and Isyd stared at it for five long seconds before finally shaking it.

“So, you’re checking our Atelier, eh? How do you find it? Crazy stuff is happening here! If you want, I can give you a tour.”

“Thank you, but I am familiar.”

“The shy type, I see… Well, it doesn’t matter really, we all started that way! I used to be as shy as a mussel. It wore off after I joined the Hammer.”

As he spoke, Enmeel stepped forward and put himself between Isyd and Klara. He was about to put his arm around Isyd’s shoulders but Isyd artfully stepped out of reach.

“Lay off with the recruiting, Rybak,” Klara said with a glare. “Isyd is not interested in joining your Ring.”

“Oh, Klara Utro! You were so small, I almost didn’t see you! Why don’t you get lost and let us discuss serious matters between us? The Cerulean Feathers got their chances and they dropped it – I guess they should have known better than tasking Pixie Pants with this…”

“Senior, please…” Vasyl said, clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation.

Klara’s ears had turned a furious red and she gritted her teeth, but before she could retort, Enmeel turned to Isyd and put a possessive hand on his shoulder.

“Tell you what, Isyd – can I call you Isyd? – there’s a party tonight for the Ring, why don’t you join us?”

Isyd shrugged off the hand. “I’m not part of your Ring, Senior.”

“Aye, but you are part of the Atelier, so it’s all but done, right? I mean, joining the Hammer is the logical next step! Come on, it will be fun! I’ll introduce you to our Ringleader, they’ve been looking forward to meeting you!”

“I appreciate the proposition, Senior, but I’m not interested. I have to go now.”

“Wait, wait, don’t go now! Come on, give me a chance! Let’s have a chat! I mean you’re so hard to pin down usually, but I’m sure I can convince you if you let me…”

Exasperated, Isyd was about to set him down more forcefully when he felt another familiar presence approaching up the stairs behind him. He let out a curse under his breath at the same time as the voice of Tekla Dumnchory was heard.

“Well, well, well, isn’t a strange place to hold a meeting?”

Her heels clinked on the stairs and her smile was predatory as she stared down the Pupils one by one. She stopped in the middle of the stairs so that she could tower over them.

“What kind of conspiracy are you cooking up in secret here? Should I be wary of my cup of tea from now on?”

“Imagine us talking about things that do not concern you? Not everything is about you, Tekla!” Klara spat before she could think.

Tekla’s smile grew twofold. “Oh, it seems that this week’s lessons in respect haven’t stuck, Klara Utro… I’m afraid we’ll need to extend it for a bit.”

She pointed at Vasyl and Enmeel. “You, go. Pupils should be busy with their studies, not meeting up under stairwells. Take care I do not catch you snooping idly around or I will find you something to do!”

Enmeel left without further ado and Vasyl followed after giving a worried look to Isyd and Klara. Tekla then shifted her focus to Isyd.

“You go ahead to my office. I will have a word with you about… your behaviour of today. Before that, me and Klara Utro must discuss the details of her punishment for her foul language. Go, do not make me repeat myself, Wybrany!”

Isyd nodded and headed off. He had the time to cool down since he left the laboratory. He was no longer afraid of losing his control when facing her. He would talk to her and try to come to understanding, apologize for having overstepped her boundaries, and do anything in his power to reconcile with her. Isyd didn’t want to waste more time with her petty squabbles, not when he was so close to cracking the code on the [Outgracing Hex].

He entered Hidrss’s office and left the door slightly ajar behind him. To the surprise of no one, the moment the Tutor had left, Tekla had moved in and made the office her own. She got comfortable rapidly; she brought with her statuettes to decorate her desk and plants to liven up the room while relegating any stuff Hidrss had left around to a closet.

Isyd was surprised to see Naeht seated behind the desk, her eyes gazing into the void. “Naeht? What are you doing here?”

“I was waiting for you! I searched for you for a while but I guess you’d come back here eventually,” she said, her face brightening up. Her smile froze immediately when she caught something in his expression. “What’s wrong, Isyd? Did something happen?”

If most of the times she acted childish, it was in those rare instances that Isyd was surprised by Naeht’s perspicacity; he couldn’t hide anything from her for too long, she knew him too well.

He sighed and passed a hand through his hair. “I almost lost control back a bit earlier. Tekla is actively stopping me from working on the Blysht.”

“I told you she’d cause problems! I said we should deal with her.”

“I know, but…” he paused, hesitant about what to say. How was he supposed to explain her? All Naeht had known was the War, a grim world sprawling with lawlessness and where it was anyone for themselves. In those circumstances, violence was commonplace. Isyd did not regret the things he had to do back then, but he also understood that his present situation was different. Violence was a solution, but he needed first to explore other avenues first.

His enemies were the Obcys, not his fellow Artysta.

“It’s not yet time for Antaka, Naeht,” Isyd finally said. “Let him rest for now and let Isyd Wybrany play the role of the dutiful Pupil.”

“All right, we shall let him rest for now… Sorry for wandering off all the time! From now, I’ll stick around to be sure you don’t lose control!”

Isyd nodded and fidgeted with his gloved hand, trying to ease the itch under his bandages while knowing full well that it was impossible.

Naeht’s eyes suddenly went wide. “Oh, God! I almost forgot! Isyd, you have to see that!”

She was pointing excitedly to the mess of papers that laid on the desk.

“What is it?”

“There are interesting letters here. I think Tekla wrote them and they are about the Blysht!”

Curiosity piqued, Isyd walked to her side and looked closer. Tidiness was obviously not a quality of Tekla. Half-written letters and notes were scattered all over the place among newspapers, reports, quills and crumbled papers. Isyd even noticed a small piece of Ingraced Blysht smaller than his thumb that laid there and was used as a simple paperweight. Seeing the crystal as such was infuriating, but Isyd didn’t linger much on it. His attention was caught by the broken seal of a letter. He didn’t recognize the origin, though even he could identify it as important correspondence. Next to it was a half-written letter as a response. Isyd recognized Tekla’s handwriting as well as the content of the letter: it was a report on the Blysht and its properties, the same report she had sent to the Ravasz. It was strange she was writing the same information twice.

Who is she sending this letter to? Perhaps she was corresponding with Hidrss, but the Tutor would not yet have reached the Academy of Holy Honour so it was too soon for them to be exchanging letters. Plus, Tekla had penned a response to her correspondent. The family crest that had been pressed on the wax seal didn’t fit with the picture Isyd had of Hidrss.

Isyd reached for the fancy letter, hoping to glean the sender but at the same time, he felt Tekla approaching up the stairs. He dropped the letter and dashed across the room, right before she entered. She slammed the door closed behind her and gave suspicious look to Isyd. It was as if she was surprised to see him there. She walked to the desk, sat on her chair, and eyed him carefully and silently. Isyd, hands clasped in his back, held her gaze and waited.

After one long minute of silence, a smile crept on Tekla’s lips. She let out a sharp laugh, void of any mirth.

“So, joining the Atelier wasn’t enough, wasn’t it? Now, you want to join the Hammer… Who cares about the proper channel and due processes, you are the famous Isyd Wybrany after all, so all of this is beneath you!”

“I have no interest in joining the Hammer.”

Another humourless laugh. “Of course, you don’t… Isyd Wybrany is above such things. Rings? Those are so plebeian…”

Isyd narrowed his eyes. What is her deal? Is she drunk? Tekla’s cheeks were indeed a bit flushed, but he never suspected to drink on her job.

Naeht apparently was thinking the same thing. “She’s not making any sense!” she exclaimed.

“I do not understand the point you are trying to make, Ms Dumnchory,” Isyd said calmly. “Truth be told, I do not understand why we are doing any of this at all. I don’t want to be your enemy.”

“ My enemy ?” Tekla spat as she rose to her full height, eyes ablaze with anger. “When did you think you were worthy of being my enemy? You are but a Pupil, Wybrany, while I am a full-fledged Artysta. Know your goddamn place! You owe me respect! Despite what everyone else is saying, you are not my equal and you will never be!”

“I have never claimed I was. I—”

“LIES! Do you think I do not see the disdain in your eyes? I have known your kind before, Wybrany – Blessed by the Grace! All of you walk around haughtily and think you are better than everyone else. You don’t know what it is like to have to work twice as hard just to be considered on the same level. Everything is so easy for you, isn’t it? Everything just falls into your lap, doesn’t it? Opportunities, recognition, respect, and attention are all freely given while we normal folk have to struggle to gain the few scraps remaining. They are already Blessed by the Grace, so why not Blessed them even further and bow to their every need? Grant them access to the Atelier whereas others do not. Grant them any job they want without care for other applicants. Grant them all the support they ask for and let the other starve for all we care. It is always the same story with your kind, Wybrany. It’s not fair!”

In the venom of her words, Isyd heard years of pent-up anger and resentment flowing out. Tekla wasn’t enraged at him, so much so that Isyd reminded her of everyone she was enraged at.

After this initial outburst, Tekla seemed to regain her composure. Her anger hadn’t disappeared, but it had turned colder and more calculating.

“You are born Blessed by the Grace and you grow up expecting everything handed to you on a platter. And what is not given freely, must be taken by force. But today it stops, Isyd Wybrany. I am finally at the place I deserved and I now hold the power. They can all rattle on how much of a genius you are, but here is the Atelier and I am in charge. You will remember this by God. Every day you spend here, I will teach you the respect you owe me. Forget any privilege you had because you were Blessed by the Grace! Know. Your. Place.”

With that, she was done. She turned her back to him, a clear sign of dismissal.

Isyd, teeth clenched, turned and left the office. He tried his best not to think of his right arm twitching under his bandages. He met the worried gaze of Naeht who gave him an encouraging smile.

It wasn’t yet time. He thought back on the mysterious letters he had seen on Tekla’s desk.

It may not yet be time, but Isyd knew in his heart of heart that it would come eventually.

Isyd Wybrany had come back to the past, but Antaka was never far away…