Keegan looked at the kid named Kano and pondered over how he should handle the situation. The kid was currently reading a small handbook that every exhibition attendee was given, which detailed the history of the participants and exined their works. The boy slid the index finger of his right hand over the page and mumbled the word that was pointing at under his breath.


    "This is the work of 3-star artist, Kenosha Nurn. It''s called ''A Lone Lotus''," Goran introduced the first disyed artwork out loud. He then turned to the boy and asked, "What do you think?"


    The boy immediately started exining the technicalities of the painting. The longer he spoke, Keegan''s scrutinising gaze faltered.


    ''He''s knowledgeable,'' Keegan thought to himself. As the boy continued, he started to enter territories that were quite advanced for artists, especially this early in their career. Keegan admitted that when he was the boy''s age, even he couldn''t recite all those details without missing a beat. Then again, Keegan didn''t have ess to the same resources as the boy.


    ''That''s right! He didn''t have to struggle as I did,'' Keegan said to himself to assuage his envy. For a second there, Keegan had nearly vocalised his fascination with the boy out loud.


    While the boy orated, Keegan battled internally over pointing out negligible misspeaks or errors to win one over him. But then he realised that his opponent was only a child, moreover, there was an age gap of around a century between them.


    "Now, try doing what I told you to do before," Goran instructed after the boy finished. Kano nodded and stared at the painting thoughtfully. In between, the boy lowered his head and read the entry about the artist and her work in the book in his hand.


    Keegan carefully observed the boy''s emotions and noticed that his frown deepened with every passing second.


    "I c-c-can''t make a connection," the boy admitted in defeat.


    "That''s okay. We''ll keep going." And with that, they walked over to the next painting. This exercise continued one after the other. The boy would first dictate his observation about the artwork, barring some insights that were outside his reach since he wasn''t a mage. After that, the boy would stare at the painting with a more intense gaze while intermittently alternating between the book in his hand and the painting.


    As they moved around, Keegan''s internal conflict was reaching a boiling point. ''What am I even doing here, following a kid like this? What am I hoping to achieve?!''


    In fact, while initially, Keegan had arrived with a metaphorical sword in hand, after observing the boy''s diligence and willingness to learn, he slowly mellowed out. During the transition between paintings, Keegan even posed a few easy questions to gauge the boy''s capacity and was further impressed. The kid wasn''t half bad - in Keegan''s opinion.


    "What''s the boy trying to do?" Keegan asked Goran with a low whisper. While some of the topics Kano pointed out and discussed with Goran involved artistic techniques beyond the ordinary level, they didn''t offer anything new for Keegan. He was more interested in the instruction Goran ryed at the end of each viewing.


    "I''m teaching Kano to exercise his artistic philosophy," Goran answered tly.


    "So early?" An artistic philosophy is an advanced concept usually left for artists who have earned a few stars in their licenses. To introduce it to someone who was yet to step into the official path was peculiar.


    Goran nodded with a proud smile and said, "The boy is beyond his years. Artist Lang should have seen it already. You wouldn''t believe it if I told you that he learned all of that in thest few weeks alone."


    Now that WAS inconceivable!


    Goran noticed Keegan''s disbelief and said, "He''s extremely talented, this one."


    "So what is his philosophy?" Keegan inquired immediately.


    "Hmm, I believe it''s best if you ask him directly," Goran deferred. He then moved towards Kano and urged him forward.


    "The next painting is Artist Lang''s. It will be far, far superior to the ones we''ve seen before. It will also be spiritually active, thus I will be monitoring you so that you don''t lose yourself in it."


    Before they could proceed, Kano jolted his head towards Goran and said, "Wait! I think I have something. Give me a minute, please. I just need to confirm it!"


    As Keegan looked into the boy''s animated eyes, he was taken over by their liveliness. This was ad who really loved to paint - Keegan could just tell by the animated excitement surging from his ebullience.


    ''I don''t even feel this way about my works,'' Keegan sighed in shame. Even though he was a 6-star Artist, he never had the same level of enthusiasm the boy disyed for a split second before running off.<novelnext></novelnext>


    From his side, Keegan suddenly heard a tongue click, "How disrespectful! Who does the boy think he is, keeping Artist Lang waiting like this?"


    It was Myron, who was trying to add oil to the nearly extinguished me. Keegan wasn''t oblivious to Myron''s attempts at antagonising him against the boy. It was just that earlier, Keegan had a legitimate reason to go along. But now, it just seemed so trivial. Besides, after suppressing his senseless rage, he realised that Goran wasn''t someone who would put Kano in such a controversial position. He was methodically taking Kano through the different artworks and encouraging the boy to exercise his knowledge. What benefit would moving the kid''s unpolished painting to such a public stage offer in his development, unless it was some sort of a sick exercise in building humility? Not like the kid even needed it; he was already so unbearably soft-spoken, not an ounce of youthful hot-headednessy within his bones. Keegan tried to reprimand the boy once for a small error, only to receive an immediate and heartfelt apology - it was like punching cotton! This ultimately meant that someone else was involved in slighting Keegan. After some trite mental calction, he figured out that the ''someone'' responsible was standing right next to him and egging him on.


    Just as Keegan was about to speak and reprimand Myron, Kano toddled back with an excited expression and urged Goran to take him to the next painting.


    Since they were approaching his work, Keegan subconsciously became more receptive to his audience''s opinions and expressions. He was especially interested in what the kid had to say. Evidently, the boy had made some breakthrough in unearthing his artistic philosophy, and Keegan was looking forward to hearing what it was.


    Keegan held little connection to his work. Sure it was a level five masterpiece, but it wasn''t anything special to him. The observers didn''t share this opinion - to them the work was transformative and extremely valuable. Because of his usual indifference, his works never had a name, just a numeric designation. The one on disy right now was "Number 23".


    The scene was of a lone farmer toiling in avish field of gold and green. As Kano looked at the sole individual, the man turned his head and looked out. He took out a towel stuffed into the back of his pants and brought it over to his face to dab away the overflowing sweat. He had a shovel in his hands, that he nted directly into the soil, letting it stand vertically. He folded his hands, rested them over the vertical wooden handle and waved out towards Kano. With each passing second, Kano could feel the world around him change, from the modestly cool exhibition hall to a weing and encouraging warmth beating down from the Sun. The still air started to course in a pleasant breeze, carrying an aroma of freshly cut grass that immediately assaulted Kano''s nose. The sound of metal colliding against the soil reverberated in the background, suppressed by the calm whooshing of the swaying wheat stalks.


    The next wave brought with it a rush of emotions. The fulfilment that followed a battery of hard work, the joy from receiving the payment from a hard day''s work, and the tranquillity that was offered by a filling meal with the entire family.


    The farmer in the distance approached Kano and offered him a stalk of wheat. Kano didn''t know what it meant and stared at the man with a vacant gaze. In response, the man simply ced the stalk in his mouth and started chewing on it. He handed Kano another one beforeying down on the ground and staring into the clear blue sky.


    Most others, uninitiated to the rapture of a painting at the pinnacle of contemporary art, would''ve beenpletely enraptured by this experience - lost within the painting''s microcosm. But surprisingly, Kano wasn''t. He was pulled into this little world at a spiritual level, but not once did he mistake it for reality. There were signs, subtle indications that the world around him was a result of a myriad of brushstrokes and artificial colours. The sky''s blue-ness was slightlycking, the grass'' green-ness was a little washed, the wheat''s gold-ness was a tad t. Every single colour in this world was close, but a fraction of a step short. It didn''t detract from the appeal of this veritable masterpiece of a painting - one that stood at the top of the contemporary styles.


    All this while, Keegan was doggedly observing the transition of expressions on Kano''s face. It started with a contemtive frown, which slowly loosened to unrestrained awe, finally warping at an exponential rate towards an assured resoluteness.


    "Did you make a connection?" Goran asked.


    Kano nodded enthusiastically and said, "I see it! I''ve figured out a connection with my philosophy!"


    Keegan''s curiosity overtook his self-control urging him to inquire, "Can you exin it to me?"


    Right as Kano prepared to answer, a series of hasty conversations broke through the respectful silence.


    "Quickly now! It''s at the centre of the quad!"


    "I never thought that something so exciting like an Artists'' Duel would take ce today of all days!"


    The upants within the hall were absorbed by the hubbub and, like sheep, followed the crowd exiting hurriedly.


    Myron stopped the nearest individual and demanded rification, "What''s going on? Where is everyone running off to?"


    "It''s an Artists'' Duel. Artist Norris challenged Teacher Way to it. It''s taking ce in the quad!" The man answered before receding with a brisk jog.


    "Who''s Teacher Way?" Myron muttered.


    Goran recollected only one Teacher Way, "It''s Jo Way."


    """Who?""" Kano, Keegan, and Myron blurted out in unison.