Chapter 65
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“This week’s exam topic is to create a ‘16-measure arpeggio.’ You may compose something original or reinterpret an existing sheet of music.”
Erdi continued his explanation.
“The grading criteria are threefold: whether each note is harmoniously original, whether it is stable—”
Everyone held their breath, waiting for his next words.
“And finally, technique. Since it’s a pattern you created yourself, there shouldn’t be any deficiencies in your performance.”
The tempo and scale were up to them.
“To assist you, I’ll distribute a few sample scores. They should be helpful.”
I had no involvement in Erdi’s exam.
This means that I didn’t know what assignment he would give to the students.
Today was my first time hearing it.
“Creating an arpeggio is a decent choice.”
It’s not particularly difficult, and as long as you have the ability to interpret musical structure and harmony, anyone can do it.
If they had been accumulating experience while attending my and Victor’s lectures, they would manage this task smoothly.
At this stage, there shouldn’t be anyone who doesn’t understand the basic patterns of arpeggios.
It’s a challenge worth taking on.
However—
“As simple as it is, even the slightest deficiency will expose your limitations.”
Arpeggios are fundamentally based on very basic techniques, and lacking them inevitably results in issues with speed and precision.
This is akin to knife skills in cooking.
It’s really the most basic of basics.
In an arpeggio, the key lies in the precise movement and timing of the fingers.
That precision, which we call touch.
Even in cooking, isn’t the most emphasized skill cutting ingredients into uniform sizes?
That’s how flavour and texture can be guaranteed.
Then there’s speed.
No matter how precise you are, being too slow won’t work.
You have to balance both precision and speed simultaneously.
Furthermore, Erdi said he would also evaluate originality.
If you merely spread out random chords to create an arpeggio, you would lose points in creativity.
“This is a test that checks their depth of theory, proficiency in performance, and individuality.”
It’s a good method.
It’s just 16 measures.
A week should be enough.
It’ll be fun.
He handed out reference sheet music to the students.
The orientation ended with that.
And so, a week passed.
***
As soon as the morning class ended, I ran to the advanced class where Erdi was.
I couldn’t miss out on this interesting spectacle.
Everyone was already gathered.
The test seemed to be underway.
I quietly took a seat in the back.
“Wendelin, your turn.”
“Yes.”
At Erdi’s call, Beatrice walked forward slowly.
She began playing immediately.
A major scale, a simple 8-measure pattern.
If you only heard this part, it might seem too stable, but then she gradually introduced variation by mixing in 7 notes.
On top of that, she manipulated the rhythm by splitting notes.
“Oh-ho.”
Impressive.
Listening to her play, Erdi pulled out the score sheet and wrote something down.
Then he gave his evaluation on the spot.
“Using a basic scale and incorporating seven notes was very creative.”
I felt the same way.
If this were modern Earth, it might not be much, but—
These students were only just beginning to learn the standard framework of piano performance.
The use of seven notes was a significant improvement.
“The process of introducing variation expressed emotion well. Next time, try experimenting with more complex chords or patterns. You seem capable of progressing to another level.”
“Th-thank you.”
Beatrice blushed, as if she hadn’t expected such praise.
“Well done. Let’s move on to the next.”
Since I arrived mid-exam, I wasn’t sure how many students had already been tested.
I was curious about Azbella and Dirk.
Were they finished already?
Just as I was thinking that—
“Wendelin, please come forward.”
“Yes.”
This guy always has impeccable timing.
Dirk walked sluggishly toward the piano.
“Start when you’re ready.”
“Yes.”
He lightly flexed his fingers.
“Hm.”
The first few measures were fine, but as it progressed, slightly unstable notes began to appear.
The basic pattern was somewhat maintained.
But what could I say?
“It’s too slow.”
Additionally, there was an inconsistency in touch.
Some notes were strong, others weak—
If they had blended deliciously, it would’ve been fine, but his performance felt tense.
Like crossing a shaky bridge that might collapse at any moment.
By the last measure, he decisively struck the keys with strength.
Erdi tilted his head slightly as he observed him.
“You’re lacking significantly in technical aspects. Several notes felt unstable, and the rhythm wasn’t consistent.”
Dirk didn’t respond.
“Do you know why?”
Erdi asked him.
“It’s because your hands can’t keep up with your brain.”
It was a blunt assessment.
“Here we go again with the basics talk?”
Dirk retorted with a dissatisfied expression.
But Erdi, unfazed, folded the score sheet and handed it to him.
“Do you skip the first chapters of a book and move on to the next? Can you truly say you’ve read the book that way? You wouldn’t understand the content at all.”
“If it’s something I already know, I can skip it.”
“It seems he doesn’t know. And on top of that, it wasn’t original at all. Today’s evaluation will not be as favourable as you think.”
Erdi lightly ignored Dirk with a look that said, What are you going to do about it?
When did this guy become so confident?
As they say, a position shapes the person.
In any case…
With Dirk’s performance, all the exams were concluded.
What a shame.
Because I came too late, I could only see two performances.
Erdi went back up on the stage and opened the score sheet.
“I will now announce first place.”
Honestly…
It was so predictable that there wasn’t even any tension.
“Miss Azbella Viviant.”
With that, it was confirmed that Azbella would represent the advanced class.
There’s no special reward for becoming the representative.
However, she stood up with a satisfied expression and bowed politely.
Applause erupted simultaneously.
But…
The cheerful atmosphere didn’t last long.
“Not just Miss Viviant, but everyone else also did well. Despite this being the first exam, none of you seemed nervous.”
Then Azbella raised her hand and asked,
“Does that mean everyone passes today?”
Originally, Erdi had declared that any student who fell short in the evaluation would be expelled from the advanced class.
But if everyone met his standards, there would be no one to fail.
“There is one person.”
Of course, that’s not likely.
Even though I only heard two performances, I couldn’t imagine any of the other students performing worse than that.
“Dirk Wendelin.”
As expected.
Dirk’s face turned pale.
His once confident demeanor was nowhere to be found as he nervously rubbed his chin with trembling hands.
“Dirk Wendelin’s attitude and preparation for this exam were… honestly disappointing. Don’t think of this as a mere mistake. Repeated mistakes reveal true skill.”
“…”
Dirk did not respond.
Erdi continued nonchalantly.
“Unfortunately, Dirk Wendelin will return to the fundamentals class starting tomorrow to relearn the basics from the very beginning.”
Dirk clenched his fists tightly.
It must have hurt his pride.
His shoulders shook violently.
Although I couldn’t see his expression, it was probably flushed red.
It was obvious.
Having been expelled from the advanced class, receiving a score lower than the students he had looked down upon…
“Well, everyone, you’ve worked hard. Reflect on your own results, and take a comfortable rest until the next lecture.”
After tidying up, Erdi left the room.
I followed him.
***
“Damn it!”
Dirk slammed his fist against the wall.
Beatrice tried to stop him, but it was no use.
“This damn academy doesn’t help with anything.”
“Watch your words. It’s because you didn’t properly prepare, brother.”
Dirk glared fiercely at Beatrice.
Her body flinched slightly.
“Everyone here is incompetent. I’m the best, and they fail to recognize that.”
“There’s not much you can do about it. From now on, if you just focus in the fundamentals class…”
“Why should I? I’ll inform Father and drop out immediately.”
At Dirk’s declaration, Beatrice looked at him with wide eyes.
He was talking about leaving the academy he had worked so hard to get into through fierce competition.
He’s so blinded by anger that he’s not thinking clearly.
Shame only lasts for a moment.
If he started over earnestly, it wouldn’t be difficult to re-enter the advanced class.
Beatrice spent the entire night trying to persuade Dirk, but he stubbornly sent a letter to their southern estate.
And a few days later…
“My father is coming here in person. Ha! He must be planning to negotiate with the professors.”
Dirk thought they would face consequences for disrespecting him.
This news soon reached Anton’s ears.
***
“The head of the Wendelin family?”
“I heard Dirk sent a letter.”
“Why can’t he just leave quietly instead of causing more trouble?”
“What can you do? Once we explain the situation, it will be sorted out. It’s not as if we’ve done anything wrong.”
Victor’s words made me nod in agreement.
Exactly.
No matter who comes—Dirk’s father or grandfather—what can they do?
It’s their son’s fault.
However…
What happened next was far beyond our expectations.
“My son has caused you much trouble.”
The head of the Wendelin family came to the lounge and bowed deeply.
Could this really be Dirk’s father?
Unlike his son, he had a kind face.
Every gesture exuded dignity.
“Though he is lacking, I humbly ask that you guide him well, Professors.”
His courteous attitude left me speechless.
Unconsciously, I found myself praising Dirk.
“…No, if nothing else, his skills are truly remarkable.”
“He probably became arrogant because of those very skills. I know my son well.”
“Ah.”
Just then…
Dirk burst into the room without knocking, cheerfully greeting his father.
“You’re here? Then let’s proceed with the withdrawal application…”
“Enough!”
“…What?”
At his father’s stern gesture, Dirk stepped back.
“Do you think the northern region would accept you if you left here? You fool who knows nothing of honour.”
While Dirk stood dumbfounded, his father’s reprimand continued.
“Count Herring is greatly disappointed. I sent you to the academy to build connections with the artists of the capital, but your pride is now destroying the future of our family.”
So that’s what this was all about.
Dirk could not utter a single word.
“I’ve heard everything you’ve done from Beatrice. Don’t even think about coming back until you graduate.”
And finally, the decisive blow.
“If you’re so set on leaving, go ahead. But the family will no longer protect you.”
How could someone as excellent as this man raise a problem child like Dirk?
“Well then.”
As if he had nothing more to say, Dirk’s father bowed to me and left the room.
Dirk’s shoulders shook.
I felt no sympathy.
The current situation was entirely Dirk’s fault.
The most I could do was offer words of encouragement that probably wouldn’t help.
“…You still have a chance.”
As long as he didn’t give up on himself.
The choice was his to make.
He had let everyone down, but it wasn’t as if he had committed a great crime.
It was still possible to turn things around.
Or so I thought.
“Forget it. I’ll quit.”
Some people really don’t change.
At least he was consistent.
If he had even thought a little about the future, he would have swallowed his pride and quietly continued attending the academy.
It seemed immediate appearances mattered more to him.
I didn’t bother persuading him.
With a defiant glint in his eye, Dirk shot me a glance, then turned and left.
The sound of his footsteps grew fainter.
***
“That’s how it ended.”
I explained the situation to Victor and Erdi.
“What a pity.”
“If he doesn’t want it, we can’t force him.”
Rather than dwelling on Dirk, it was better to focus on those who remained.
But with the atmosphere at the academy likely to grow uneasy due to this incident…
“For now, perhaps we should organize an event to bring everyone back together.”
—
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