Sattra Elisko is not only the city’s chief mage, he is a legend in the flesh. The polymath not only understands the principles of magic deeply, not only is physically strong, but genuinely listens to townspeople, striving to help all of them. They whisper, however, that even he has a peculiar trait: despite his kindness and desire to help those around him, lately this man appears “tense, expecting danger from everywhere and ready for battle”. The townspeople know him well, so, dismissing their suspicions, they merely worry about him.

You climb the tall spiral staircase of his tower with a recommendation letter from another well-known mage. Your stream of thoughts is hard to interrupt. You think about how badly you want to ask Sattra about all the principles of how magical crystals work. You know little about them so far: they can perform both simple and highly creative tasks, following the idea set by the mage, consuming only a small amount of mana in return. And he is an excellent alchemist too - you will surely have something to learn today; you are clearly short on practice, but tasks you have plenty!

The door opens with a creak, letting you survey the mage’s entrance hall: from here you can see the main hall, and, in it - a flawless portrait of a confident, solidly built middle-aged man with his arms crossed over his chest, clearly painted by his mother’s hand. Sattra sternly drills something behind you with his gaze from the portrait. Expensive carved furniture surrounds you, shelves filled with flasks and smooth, faintly glowing magical crystals. The place is tidy and exudes calm. You notice something odd: a large, barely worked crystal on the floor sticks out from the rest of the room. Unlike everything else, it is covered with a thick layer of dust, yet traces of magic are visible within it. Not quite raw material, yet not a finished instrument either? It is unpleasant to wait, and curiosity wins. You look around, recall the spell that lets you glimpse an object’s past, and…

Today is the mage’s birthday. Sattra is busy studying the parameter network of a crystal you just saw, it being clean, glowing with energy. He has always admired his mother’s paintings, but knows clearly that being an artist is not his path. Nodding with satisfaction, the mage gives it a simple final task: “create”. Perhaps the crystal, given freedom, will become a true creator and delight many people in the future? The idea feels right and fills him with great hope, so the mage wonders with renewed vigor: what if the “creator” turns out to be not only a painter but a sculptor too? Could the crystal astonish the townspeople with music? He muses aloud: “let the crystal look into the very essence of the townspeople, reflect their deepest wishes, even brighter and more beautiful than they imagine”. The mage looks satisfied, smiling serenely.

His mother, a well-known painter, wants to give him a portrait. Sattra wants to do something for her in return, to show off his own creation at the end of painstaking work. A chair and crystals for lighting are already in place, an expensive canvas and palette prepared, the hall cleared. The mage takes out an empty scroll and places it on the table, sets an inkpot beside it, and gives the crystal freedom, wanting to test how good his overall idea is. The quill levitates in the air without the slightest effort on his part. The crystal starts its work.

At an inopportune, too early moment, the mage hears footsteps on the spiral staircase. His mother has missed him, and all he can do is hurry. He smiles and throws the doors wide, embracing her and inviting her in. They noisily share stories in the kitchen over tea and sweets. Time passes, and they return to the hall.

The mage impatiently glances at the scroll, trying not to get distracted and only peek at what the crystal created during their meal. What will the painting be - the one inspired by all the townspeople? You too instinctively peer at the scroll over his shoulder, and then you hear a strong hand strike the table, covering the scroll. All this time his mother has been speaking to him:

”- How wonderful, you’re trying to paint again? Come on, please show me what you’ve made, perhaps I can give you some advice… Wait, I haven’t even looked yet!“

The mage has already seen the drawing, nervously crumpled the scroll, looked at the ink imprinted on his hands, carelessly wiped his hands with the crumpled ball, and tossed it under the table. You too will never be able to forget the crystal’s creation, but you continue to listen in stunned silence.

”- Very well, that’s your decision, but remember, we always accept you as you are; you can always talk to me and your father…“

The mage silently sits in the center of the hall, now examining the brightly glowing crystals that illuminate himself and the hall around him with great distrust. His mother sighs and prepares to paint the portrait.

Nervously patting your clothes, you notice the envelope is no longer there. You hear the scratching of a quill and realize it has been moving across the paper for a long time. And then, as if on purpose, you hear the sound of the door opening. Your strength is only enough to stop the spell, crumple the envelope of the recommendation letter, hide it in your pocket, greet Sattra, apologize, and finally jump out the window.

While you try to levitate to avoid breaking yourself, you hear the mage shouting after you. Something about “not being offended” and “you didn’t have to jump out his window, weirdo”. You land and hear a panicked scream from above. You realize the mage has finally managed to look around…