Private Lessons [Stefan] [Memory]
Posted: Thu Nov 04, 2021 1:32 am
Glade 42, 120 Age of Steel
The grand front doors of the Michaelis estate had been closed shut for nearly two decades when the invitation arrived. Penned personally by the hand of General Franz Josef Michaelis, Duke of Windrock, etc. etc. etc., it was addressed - somewhat surprisingly - to Melchior Dornkirk's eldest son instead of his youngest, the intellectual instead of the soldier. Its contents were even stranger, the Defense Force officer petitioning Stefan's services as a tutor of all things. He did not stint upon the flattery, acknowledging Stefan as one of the most learned men in the entire City of Brass, second only to this father. He was not being asked to attend to Franz himself of course, but instead to serve as a teacher for his eldest son Anton as the boy neared manhood. It was planned for the Michaelis heir to attend the Greater Institute of Zaichaer after he came of age, and such a prestigious position required a measure of preparation lest he make a fool of himself in the entry process.
For years, no formal guest had arrived at the opulent and imperial manor, but to greet Stefan Dornkirk the ancient foyer was prepared afresh. Servants busied themselves dusting off the entry hall in anticipation of his acceptance of the request as the kitchen staff prepared a light luncheon for teacher and student. All the while the would be scholar was fussed over from the moment he woke up, a small army of attendants preparing him for what would be his first meeting with someone whom he had to be conscious of his social status and reputation. A wardrobe worth of outfits were chosen and discarded out of fear of over or under dressing the blind teenager, until at last a simple but elegant ensemble popular with Zaichaeri bravos was deemed appropriate and he was freed from the clutches of sumptuary debate.
It was with no small relief that Anton finally seated himself in an overstuffed armchair inside of the mansion's library to await his guest. He knew of Stefan by reputation of course, and his father had mentioned Melchior in passing, but he was undeniably excited at the prospect of actually getting to meet the man. Getting to meet anyone was a treat in its own right, but to have both a renowned intellect and someone who he could consider as akin to a peer instead of a stiff and distant teacher paid a small fortune was another matter altogether. He just hoped that the man would actually arrive.