The Common Dorms of the Academy were nothing to sneeze at. All the Pupils who enrolled had the right to one bunk as well as a small chest to put in their belongings. The rooms could house ten beds and there were forty of those rooms, unevenly divided in favour of the men.

It was in the Common Dorms that Isyd had ended up after enrolling. Isyd did not mind it at all. After all, he had spent the nights in far worse places than a crowded dormitory. The fact that he had a bed of his own was more luxurious than what he could have hoped for. And even if he hadn’t liked it, Isyd did not have much choice.

The fact of the matter was that Isyd was broke.

Back in Old Ziemia, Isyd had not been the kind of owning anything. It was a consequence of living at the frontline of the War; when you could be attacked at any instant by the enemy, you quickly learned that the less you carried, the faster you could run. It was a simple matter of survival. This meant that all Isyd had carried with him were an extra set of tunic, his cloak and his knife. And it was the only items he’d been sent back in time with. No money, no food and nothing to truly get by with. Fortunately, the Academy provided shelter and a free meal once a day, so Isyd did not starve to death, but he was worried about how long he could continue like this. Living like a pauper was not a first for him, but he’d rather focus his attention and energy on preparing for the War with the Obcys, instead of worrying about money.

Isyd had to find a solution and he was thinking about it as he entered his room in the Common Dorms. The classes had been over for a couple of hours now and the dormitory was empty. It wasn’t surprising; Isyd had learned that most Pupils preferred spending their time everywhere else than in the Commons since there was much to do here if not sleeping.

Isyd approached his bunk and pulled from underneath it his chest. Naeht was seated on his bed, ghostly and ethereal.

“Are you going to the Thermae, Isyd?” she asked.

“Not now. There will be too many people around this time, I think.”

“So, what are we doing here? We spend all our time in the Library usually, at least until it closes.”

“I was actually thinking of going outside tonight. You’re down?”

Her face lit up with excitement and she spiralled up in the air. “Really? You’re not joking? Yes! I’m so happy! I so wanted to visit the city actually!”

Isyd’s smiled. He’d forgotten that Naeht had never seen a city like Vilriver before. The only thing similar she’d ever experienced was the Holy Bastion, which was more like a castle than anything else.

“So where are we going exactly?” she chirped.

“I was thinking of strolling a bit at the beginning. There’s also a place in the Outside I want to drop by.”

She tilted her head to one side. “What’s the ‘Outside’?”

“That’s how we call the area across the River. You see, at the border of Vilriver, the River fork in two before joining back downstream. It forms a kind of small island inside the borders of the city on which the City Hall and the Academy were built. We call this islet the Inside while the rest of the area is called the Outside.”

She let out an oooh of understanding. Isyd reached down for his cloak and unfolded it. With his knife, it was probably the only thing of value he ever owned. It wasn’t any type of cloak but a darkveil, the type of cloak worn by the Rangers of the Black Forest far in the west. The fibre, strong and light, was black but had not been dyed. The cloak kept warm and served as an excellent camouflage in the forest. Or the city for that matter.

“Let’s go,” he said to Naeht and together they headed out. On their way out, they met many Pupils of various Openings also leaving the Academy grounds for the time of an evening. Outside of the time reserved for their classes, Pupils were free to explore Vilriver. There were only two things they had to be wary of. The first was that the doors closed at the 22nd Hour and all Pupils were expected to be back by then. The second was that as Pupils, their actions outside represented the Academy as a whole. Tutors were known to be quite severe with the students who tarnished the reputation of the Academy — expulsion being the least severe of punishments.

Outside, the sun had long gone past the horizon. The streets in this part of the city were crowded and Lightspheres illuminated the pavements. The Inside was the fanciest neighbourhood of Vilriver and the expensive houses and office buildings demonstrated it. Still, Isyd did not bother wandering around; he walked at a brisk pace, Naeht hovering above his shoulder. Soon, they crossed the Amber Bridge to get into the Outside.

Isyd had thrown his darkveil over his shoulders. He hadn’t bothered changing out of his uniform since he didn’t have any other decent clothes to wear.

“Don’t you think your uniform is too bright?” Naeht pointed out. “Even with your darkveil, it is easy to spot you.”

“I know, but it is either this or my drags from the War. You know I have no money to buy clothes.”

“I was thinking about it actually… You know what we should do? Find you a job!”

Isyd smirked. “Oh, really? Did you come up with any brilliant idea?”

“Well, there’s surely something you can do and that can earn you some money. You’re the best Artyst I know after all!”

"You don’t know a lot of Artysta, Naeht.”

She stuck out her tongue at him.

“I can’t work as an Artysta, anyway,” Isyd said. “Not now at least. Officially, I’m still of the 1st Opening. Only Pupils of the 4th Opening can practice the Arts in exchange for money. If the Academy was to learn of it, I risk far worse than expulsion.”

“Well, it wouldn’t have been a problem if you did not cheat at the entrance exam!”

Isyd slowed down his pace and took his time to admire the view across the riverbank. They were walking on a causeway along the embankment, a popular place to stroll or sit down. There was a light smog above the darkness of the River which made the Inside appear like a mirage. From where they stood, they could still see the towers of the Academy and the fuzzy outlines of the City Hall. The Lightspheres appeared as wavering dots of light, like blinking stars in a night sky.

“It is as beautiful as you described it, Isyd,” Naeht whispered.

Isyd agreed. During his youth in Vilriver, this spot had been one of his favourite places. He would often end up here and sit down and stare at the Academy, this place he’d dreamt to enter. For an instant, it was as if he was back there again. Isyd closed his eyes and remembered. The salty smell of the river, the flow of the boats on its waters, and the sounds of sailors enjoying their drinks with songs and laughter. It had been so long ago… and now that he was here again, Isyd realized how much he’d missed it.

He opened his eyes, reconnecting with the present. It felt good to reminisce, to remember when things were different. Before the War. Before the Obcys. Before his infliction. His right arm twitched underneath his bandages and Isyd flexed his gloved fingers.

Yes… it was good to remember for a moment, in order not to forget why he was present here now.

“Let’s go, Naeht,” he hailed her. “We still have somewhere to go.”

He followed down one of the streets that led away from the riverbank, avoiding the crowd of people who were also strolling on the causeway.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going exactly, Isyd…”

“Well, talking of jobs… did I ever tell you what I used to do in Vilriver back in the Old Ziemia?”

She tilted her head to one side. “Hmm… you mentioned that you were an assistant of some kind to a Craftsman. Weren’t you making watches or something?”

“Yeah, that’s about it. I was very lucky to find him. Since I couldn’t join the Academy, I had not many options. My Master was a clockmaker and had already two apprentices, but they were getting older and he needed someone for the more menial tasks. That’s where I first learned the Arts or at least a more practical and simplified aspect of it.”

“So, this is where we’re heading back now. You want to say hello to this Master of yours?”

“Actually no. There would be no point to it, he wouldn’t recognize me. Instead, if my memory serves me right, it is around this time that a friend of my Master would pass away. He was a pawnbroker and at his death, my Master was put in charge of sorting out his belongings stored in an old attic. He sold many of those things, but he also gave me a broken toy as a gift.”

“I still don’t know how that has anything to do with us, Isyd.”

“The attic is where we’re going Naeht. I’m going to get my weapon.”

Naeht’s eyes went wide and she gasped. “Your weapon? You don’t mean… the Whitewater Staff?”

Isyd could not help but roll his eyes. “This is such a silly name people gave it… You shouldn’t believe all the stories you overheard from Wolteh and the others, Naeht. They liked to overblow things.”

“Still, this is awesome! Your staff was legendary, almost as famous as the Moonlight Rapier of Felyn! It was such a pity you broke it before I could see it in truth.”

“I did not break it! I just happened to— you know what? Never mind, it doesn’t matter anymore. We’ve arrived anyway.”

Their steps led them to a narrow alleyway away from the commercial street they’d been following. Away from the lights of the Lightspheres, the back street between two shops was shrouded in darkness. The place was familiar to Isyd however since the path had been a shortcut he’d often followed to get to his job.

With a flick of his left hand, he cast a [Light Ball] the size of an apple and held it overhead to see the metal rod where the [Lightsphere] should have hung if someone had bothered maintaining. Isyd nodded and dismissed his [Spell].

He took a few steps back, jumped against one wall then leapt toward the streetlamp. He caught it with two arms and heaved himself on it. The physical effort did not seem to bother him and neither did the height. He turned his attention to a windowsill whose window was left ajar. Isyd swung it open and stepped inside the dark room.

The smell of dust and trapped air almost made him sneeze. Again, Isyd cast a [Light Ball], much bigger this time as to lit up the entire room. He’d called it an attic, but it was actually just a room on the second floor that devolved into a storage dump by the late owner. Bags full of unsold merchandise laid open. The content was quite miscellaneous: from knick-knacks, jewellery and trinkets to proper [Arcanes].

“Tell me, Isyd, if you take your staff here, wouldn’t it consider stealing?” Naeht asked as she saw begin to rummage through the bags.

Isyd stopped in his search and looked at her. “Well, the staff was given to me eventually, but it was back in Old Ziemia… I guess, you could consider it stealing… but I’m just taking my staff, nothing else.” He paused, thinking. “Do we actually care either way?”

“No, not really!” Naeht giggled. “I just wanted to make sure, that’s all! So, what’s in there?”

“Many things. A lot of necklaces and rings. A few wristwatches. A few broken [Arcanes] like a handwarmer, a portable [Lightsphere], there’s even a wand. There’s also a lot of letters and pens and—”

Isyd stopped when his eyes landed on a familiar shape he had not seen in years. With a trembling hand, he reached for it and pulled it out of the heap. Naeht approached him and looked over his shoulder.

“So, it was truly golden like they told in the stories…” she whispered in awe.

“It’s not gold, it’s ochre,” Isyd said, his voice tight. “Ochre is the natural colour of resswood.”

Apart from its odd colours, the Whitewater Staff looked nothing special. One meter in length and five centimetres in diameter, it just looked like a stick with paint on it.

Yet, Isyd held it in his palm as if it was truly made out of solid gold.

“Come on, Isyd, show me what it can do! Use it!” Naeht urged him.

“I can’t Naeht. It is broken. We must first find a way to—”

Isyd’s head whirled toward the door at the other side of the room. His senses had perked up. Someone was approaching. From the stairs by the sounds of it and they were already at the door. For the fraction of a second, he thought of escaping through where he came from, but he couldn’t. The window was too far, the whole room was still a mess.

At that moment, Isyd cursed himself for not taking off his Academic uniform. He didn’t know what was the punishment for a Pupil caught stealing, but he could guess it wasn’t anything good.