Arthur was hit by a wave of nostalgia as he looked down at his desk. It had been recreated from his memories in perfect detail and he lost himself looking at the doodles before him. Swallowing thickly, he turned his attention back to Cyprus, who seemed content to wait for however long it took Arthur to get his bearings.Arthur moved his desk to the front of the classroom. The only other change had come from Cyprus’ side. He’d switched out the projector for what Arthur could only describe as blackboard, though his senses told him it was far from mundane. “Memory truly is a strange thing,” Cyprus said, “a mere scent or a sound and you are transported through time in ways mages can only dream of achieving. I’ve seen grizzled warriors break down and cry the first time they come here. Comparatively, your reaction is rather mild.”“Time, however, is limited, a single hour here obtained after every fifteen that pass in the real world, so I’ll have to cut your reminiscing short,” Cyprus’ tone had changed, taking on the same cadence Arthur found was common in most lecturers. Some things just transcended species and language. Arthur nodded. He’d always disliked it when a teacher focused on him, but for some reason, Cyprus’ attention wasn’t aggravating even when it was focused entirely on him.“I will begin teaching the same way I always approach new subjects; with a question. What exactly do you know about rune scribing?” “Absolutely nothing.”Cyprus smiled. “That's perfect. A blank canvas is the best material a teacher can ask for. This would normally be the time when I would tell you to forget everything you thought you knew about rune scribing but clearly, that won’t be necessary here. Let this be the first thing I teach you then, Arthur. Take it as advice from an old elf who might just be a little wise.”Arthur listened with rapt attention.“To learn something properly and to learn it fast, you must first (...)