The morning after the review, Ren walked into the House of Daena and felt the shift in the air immediately. It wasn't the usual hushed reverence of the library. It was the crackle of focused attention.
Heads turned as he walked past the long tables. Whispers trailed him like a wake.
"That's him."
"…debated Azar to a standstill…"
"…man-made Visions? Truly?"
"…so small…"
He was no longer just the curious little boy with the glowing eyes. He was a phenomenon. The rumors of his inventions had been exciting, but abstract. The reality of his performance in the Grand Hall—the way he had dismantled the Grand Sage's arguments with calm, devastating logic—had turned him into an academic folk hero overnight. In a city where knowledge was currency and debate was the highest form of combat, Ren had just slain a dragon.
Scholars from Vahumana and Rtawahist, who usually wouldn't look twice at a child, now nodded respectfully as he passed. Some even covertly sketched his likeness in their notebooks. Ren, a little embarrassed but mostly amused, returned the nods and made his way to his favorite corner in the Ksharewar section.
He was deep into a text on the structural integrity of ancient ruins when a shadow fell across his page.
"So," a bright, energetic voice declared. "You are the little prodigy everyone is whispering about."
Ren looked up. Standing there, hands on her hips, was a young woman—or rather, a woman who looked young, with teal twin-tails and a distinctive, geometric dress. Her eyes sparkled with a sharp, ancient intelligence.
It was Faruzan. The legendary machinist of the Haravatat Darshan, trapped for a century in a ruin, returned to a world she barely recognized but was determined to master.
"I am Faruzan," she announced, striking a pose. "Though I suppose you might not know me. The youth these days have such short memories for the truly great scholars."
Ren smiled, closing his book. He knew exactly who she was. "Madam Faruzan," he said respectfully, emphasizing the title. "It is an honor. I have read about your work on ancient mechanisms. The way you deciphered the ruin puzzles in the desert is fascinating."
Faruzan blinked. Then she preened, a delighted flush coloring her cheeks. "Madam Faruzan! Hah! Finally, a youngster with manners! And you've read my work? Good, good. Shows promise."
She pulled up a chair without asking, her movements spry. "I heard about your little performance yesterday. Missed it myself—caught up in a particularly stubborn puzzle regarding a Primal Construct's joint articulation—but the reports were glowing. Azar, speechless? That is a feat worthy of a tenure track all on its own."
She leaned in, her eyes gleaming with genuine curiosity. "But enough about the politics. Tell me about the machines. This… heater. And the refrigerator. I am partial to the elegance of ancient technology, of course—nothing beats the classics—but I can appreciate modern ingenuity when it is clever. How did you stabilize the elemental flow without using a ley line tap?"
For the next two hours, Ren and Faruzan were lost in their own world. They spoke the language of gears and energy, of torque and resistance. Ren explained his designs, and Faruzan listened, nodding, occasionally interjecting with a question that cut straight to the core of the engineering challenge. She wasn't condescending; she was treating him as a peer, albeit a very young one.
She was fascinated by the hoverboard's runic control system. "Simple," she critiqued, but with a smile. "But elegant. It reminds me of the flight stabilizers on the ancient aeonblights, though far less… aggressive. You have a knack for intuitive interfaces, child."
As the conversation wound down, Faruzan sat back, looking at him with a calculating, satisfied expression. She knew talent when she saw it. And she knew that talent like this needed guidance—her guidance.
"Well," she declared, standing up and smoothing her dress. "It is decided. You have potential. Raw, unrefined, perhaps a bit too reliant on these newfangled crystals, but undeniable potential. And a scholar of my standing cannot simply let such talent go to waste."
She pointed a finger at him. "From this moment on, you are my student. We shall explore the ruins, decipher the ancient texts, and I will teach you the true meaning of mechanical mastery. You will learn from the best, and in return, you will help me with my… funding proposals. And maybe carry my books."
Ren blinked. He knew Faruzan's struggle—her brilliance was unmatched, but her abrasive personality and antiquated methods meant she struggled to keep students or secure funding from the Akademiya. She was lonely, in her own way, a woman out of time searching for a connection.
He smiled, a warm, genuine smile. "I would be honored, Madam Faruzan. As long as I am in Sumeru, I would love to learn from you."
Faruzan beamed, a look of pure, triumphant joy on her face. "Excellent! Report to the Haravatat section of the House of Daena tomorrow morning. Don't be late! Class is in session!"
She swept away, her head held high, leaving Ren with a new teacher, a new ally, and the distinct feeling that his time in Sumeru was about to get even more interesting. He was now the unofficial apprentice of a living legend.