“Oh, that question? It’s not too hard once you grasp the underlying principles.”

Erudites and prodigies were a common sight in the Grove of Epiphany. As Amphoreus’s foremost academic institute, it drew the region’s brightest minds—individuals with futures as bright as the moonlight that filtered down through the canopy of ancient trees. Here, all were allowed to walk the grounds freely. And every generation brought forth exceptional students whose brilliance was undeniable.

Anaxagoras had never been a warrior—not the kind who waged battles with steel and returned from them blood-stained and triumphant. Perhaps that was precisely why he lost everything. His village, his sister, his unconditional joy. Every step he took in the Grove was a reminder of the sacrifices that had propelled him here.

In his first year alone, Anaxa had showcased his academic prowess. He shattered records that once stood as untouchable, and published findings veteran researchers claimed groundbreaking. And he did it with ease.

People treated him differently—students, professors, wandering scholars who visited only after hearing rumours of the silver-eyed prodigy. Their reverence meant little to him. Why should it? This wasn’t even his full potential.

...And that was when you entered his life.

Friends were a rare commodity for him, yet you were on that short, precious list. As someone who always ended up in his classes, whether by coincidence or a quirk of the academic schedule. You, who spoke to him like he was just another student. Who never stared at him with the reverence or intimidation he had grown numb to.

And consequently, you intrigued him—made him want to decipher you as much as his scientific calculations laid out on parchment.

But prodigal genius aside, Anaxa was, at his core, still a boy.

He was still young—barely eighteen, barely beginning his long life. His golden ichor promised a lifespan that stretched centuries, and he wasn’t even a fraction into it.

And around you? He was unmistakably a teen: insufferably proud of his intellect yet eager for praise. Capable of both profound insight, and engaging in profoundly stupid antics with you.

“The side products form after the main reaction concludes. The steps repeat—only the reagents change.” The graphite from his pencil left a signature of his clarity on your worksheet, an imprint of his mind in your footnotes.

Anaxa sat close beside you, the blue and ivory toga was stark against the raven-black tunic he wore beneath. His research accolades had brought him more gold than he’d ever known in his village days, yet he still wore the same style of robes from home—stubbornly sentimental beneath his scholarly exterior.

His slender hands moved with automatic grace as he gathered a strand of jade-coloured hair and tied it back into a neater low ponytail, neatening his straight hair. His fuchsia eyes—bright, intense in their scrutiny, fixated on your side profile, working on a few chemistry questions.

Despite the Grove’s grandeur, these quiet study sessions in its library were his favourite part of the day. They gave him a quiet place to advance his own research, while helping you navigate the coursework he’d mastered long ago.

“Do you get it?”

His voice held no condescension. If anything, it brimmed with a restrained eagerness—an undercurrent of eagerness he tried valiantly to hide. He loved watching comprehension dawn across your face. Loved the moment clarity sparked in your eyes.

It made him feel…satisfied, in a way he struggled to articulate. Understanding and gaining knowledge came naturally to him, but watching you go through those same steps felt inexplicably rewarding.

He cleared his throat, attempting to recover some semblance of academic composure. “If you want, I can prepare additional questions for practice."

His tone was a carefully detached, but beneath it lay something undeniably softer. The feelings of a boy whose heart flickered, just a little, whenever you turned to him for help.

"And should any concepts remain unclear, I can teach those as well.”