[The 'boy' regards the man before 'him' with a dubious look. Very confident, and yet so noncomittal...his manner could be of one from court, but the 'boy' does not recognize him.]

It is from reason's fair embrace I speak,
for in the realm of Fae I ply my trade.
I graze my flock out in the open wild
where faerie rings grow wild where sprites doth play.
It be, perhaps, that you are city-born?
Far quicker to dismiss the guilt of fae,
And quicker still to think a boy a fool.

[Visibly irritated, 'he' turns back to Isaac, resisting the urge to touch him for fear of betraying hidden feeling.]

No clue I've found, no proof I've seen at all
of what befell my student, and my friend.
Spirits ease my fear, but soothe not my heart.