The Copper Crown Tavern was slightly brighter as midday approached, the light piercing through the gloom. Compared to the morning when Lucian had last visited, there were considerably more people inside—the songs of Bards, the chatter of conversation, and the roar of boisterous debate all blended together into a noisy cacophony.
Lucian noticed that many of the patrons wore leather armor or exuded a rough, menacing air. There were even a few women of striking beauty among them—mercenaries and adventurers, by the looks of them.
Pushing his way laboriously through the crowded throng, Lucian finally squeezed his way to the bar.
"Hey there, customer. Fancy a drink?" Koen called out without looking up, sipping his ale.
Lucian smiled wryly. "Uncle Koen, it's me."
"Oh—Lucian? What on earth happened to you?" Koen's eyes fell on Lucian's bruised and swollen face, and his beard bristled with surprise. "Wait a moment—this morning Jackson from the Allen Gang came by asking about you. You haven't gone and gotten yourself mixed up with those thugs, have you?"
Lucian didn't want to go into detail. "It's already been taken care of. Uncle Koen, I was hoping you could tell me which scholars are willing to teach reading and writing."
"You—did you scrape together five silver marks? You didn't rob those thugs, did you?" Koen looked even more astonished, staring at Lucian as though he were some alien creature.
Lucian supposed it did rather count as robbery, but he certainly couldn't put it that way. He offered a brief explanation, mentioning in the end that Joel's family had lent him the last of the money he needed.
Koen took a deep swig of his ale and praised him. "Lucian, you and John have finally come of age! You're real men now who understand passion and honor!"
"But keep your guard up, both you and Joel's family. As long as John is still Sir Vein's knight squire, they won't dare retaliate openly—but there are always those thrill-seekers who enjoy a bit of dark gambling." Koen added this warning with a tone of concern.
Lucian nodded solemnly. "We'll be careful."
Only then did Koen produce a sheet of white paper covered in strange, scribbled symbols—drawings, it seemed, of a child's haphazard doodling. "Heh, I can't read a word myself, but I can sketch out my own little marks."
He then rattled off the names, addresses, and available lesson times of every scholar willing to teach literacy, letting Lucian choose for himself.
Lucian listened attentively, weighing each option—until a familiar name caught his ear. "Victor? The musician Victor?"
Koen looked at him curiously. "That's right. You know Victor?"
"We met when I visited the
Koen burst out laughing. "That's exactly the reason Victor is willing to teach!"
"Holding a concert at the Sacred Hymn Hall is no simple matter. You need an invitation from the
Lucian understood now. "But if Victor values this concert so highly, why would he waste his time teaching literacy?" He could simply borrow money to get by.
"I'm not entirely sure. Apparently the closer the concert date gets, the more the pressure weighs on Victor. You know how sensitive musicians are. If he doesn't keep himself occupied with something else, the whole affair might just drive him mad! Glug." Koen took another swig of ale.
Lucian considered this. Compared to the other scholars, at least he had met Victor and found his temperament and bearing rather agreeable. "All right, then. I'll go to Victor for my lessons."
…………
Gisu District took its name from Gisu, the great musician who had invented the violin. Most of Altor's musicians and instrumentalists made their homes there. The scenery was lovely—quiet and immaculate.
Trees resembling plane trees lined both sides of the streets, tall and dense. Sunlight filtered through the leaves and dappled the ground with patches of bright gold, composing a melody of light and shadow together with the surrounding shade.
Following the address Koen had given him, Lucian walked beneath the trees and, after losing his way a couple of times, finally found Number 12 Sneva Street in the Gisu District.
Behind a blue-black wall stood a small two-story building, its walls draped in verdant vines, exuding an air of ancient tranquility. If all went well, for the next two months—from Monday to Friday each week, from two in the afternoon to four—Lucian would be coming here for the lessons that would change his life.
He knocked gently on the front gate. Before long, a servant appeared and, through the iron bars, eyed Lucian's attire with a slight furrow of the brow. "May I ask whom you're looking for?"