Chapter 2 Part 4

The rest of the day went slowly as did the several weeks to follow. Dylan was reassigned to work in the storage building and supply room cleaning shelves, sweeping floors and washing windows. He missed working with the books, but his new team supervisor, a yellow tunic initiate named Jerry, was a pleasant person to be around.

Dylan quickly discovered that Jerry was not one to invent things to do. If everything was clean and there was no task in which Dylan could help with, Jerry would let him study or occasionally leave early.

In addition to Dylan, Jerry was over five other boys. They, all being older than Dylan, spent most of their time counting the number of items on the shelves, fetching things that people needed and subtracting what was distributed from the inventory.

Dylan learned a little bit about the task each day. He knew that every afternoon Jerry would compare the requests for supplies with the list of things removed from storage. And that if anything was incorrect, Jerry would not let the initiate responsible leave until either the error was corrected or the initiate's tutor came to get him.

Dylan also knew that once a week, Jerry directed them in a complete count of every item. In this Dylan was allowed to help, as the task was very time consuming. Jerry would then compare the count to what he calculated should be in the warehouse and report the results to one of the Academy staff.

Dylan and Cindy spent their free time at the hidden pool talking or just reading in the peace and quiet. Dylan did not see the mysterious mage again and things began to settle into a comfortable routine until a new initiate was billeted in their room.

It was when they were returning from one of their late afternoon frolics in the garden that they discovered the spare bed in their room was no longer empty and that a young boy about their age was seated upon the bed talking quietly with Mally. When they entered, she nodded to them formally and introduced their new roommate.

"This is Eric," she told them. "He's my master's newest pupil and is here at the Academy to study magic." The last bit she added to hint that in some way their new roommate deserved extra respect. "Eric, like most of the students of magic, completed the Ritual of Meditation very quickly." She added that last statement as a hidden insult to the other two initiates.

Knowing fully well Mally's intent, Dylan chose to ignore it. "Welcome to the Academy," he offered.

"You've got an excellent master," Cindy agreed.

The boy's initial reaction was to accept their greetings and make friends, but a cold glance from Mally ended the gesture before it could be carried out. Neither Dylan nor Cindy missed the rebuke. Dylan recalled how he felt after completing the Ritual of Meditation.

"We were about to go and get something to eat," he told Eric. "Would you like to join us?"

Mally answered for him. "We'll get something later," she assured them. "Right now, we have to go over what is expected of us as students of magic."

Cindy's thin lips stretched into a forced smile. "Okay. Until later then," she said as she spun about and headed back out of the room. Dylan waved and then hurried to follow her.

"She isn't going to give us a chance to make friends with him," Cindy muttered as they proceeded down the hall. "She's already started brainwashing him into thinking that he's superior and not to socialize with us."

"Maybe we can wear him down a little over time," Dylan suggested.

Cindy agreed. "We can try."

Over the next two weeks, Cindy and Dylan carried out a private little battle against Mally with Eric as the prize. Whenever the older initiate was not around, either one or both of them would engage the new student in friendly conversation.

Their plan appeared to be working, as very soon Eric was sneaking away from Mally to join the other two at the little pool in the garden. The bonds of friendship were quickly being formed until Mally and two other initiates who were studying magic interrupted their private little party late one afternoon.

They called Eric away and the boy reluctantly left with them. After that, Mally kept very close to Eric when Dylan and Cindy were around and Eric's attitude changed radically. He was cold and courteous, but no longer friendly. He had become one of the students of magic.

The atmosphere in their room was tense and chilly. Dylan and Cindy resented Mally for her actions in turning their friend against them. Then something happened that would change the mood in the room drastically.

Dylan had been at the Academy for five months when one afternoon while he and Kayla were practicing multiplication, Gage entered the study.

He whispered briefly to Kayla who suddenly smiled and nodded. Gage then interrupted Cindy's reading and asked her to follow him. There was a look of confusion on her face as she glanced at both Dylan and Kayla. The apprentice nodded indicating that she was excused, and Cindy left the room behind the journeyman.

"What's happening?" Dylan asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Not at all," Kayla beamed. "Master Tesron’s very pleased with Cindy's progress and he's also received good reports of her work. So he has nominated her for a green tunic."

Dylan's face lit up with joy. His best friend was being promoted. He wanted so much to tell her how happy he was for her when slowly it dawned on him that the occasion also had a bitter side to it. Possession of a leader's tunic carried many responsibilities, and with those responsibilities came some minor privileges. One of those privileges was the semi-private billeting. That meant that Cindy would be moving out of his room and into another, slightly larger, room that she would only share with one other person. That would leave Dylan alone with Mally and Eric. And without Eric's friendship, he was about to become very, very lonely.

When Dylan returned to his room after his lessons, he found Cindy packing her things. On her cot were three fresh new green tunics.

When Dylan entered, she turned to him trying to think of what to say. It was apparent that she could not put the bittersweet event into words as she stammered and struggled with the awkward situation.

Dylan helped her out by giving her a big hug. "Kayla told me," he said to her. "I'm so proud of you." Then he turned to face her bed so that she did not see that his eyes were misting up just as hers were. "Here, let me help you pack your things."

It was not that she was leaving the Academy or anything, but as a task leader, she would be far too busy for walks, casual trips to the dining hall, or sneaking into town. They may pass and exchange smiles in the hall, but for the most part that is all they would be able to do.

Cindy's bed stayed empty for almost three weeks before another initiate was assigned to their room. And as fate would have it, the new initiate was also a student of magic. This time Dylan didn't even attempt to make friends. He simply went about his studies and worked hard to try to keep from getting lonely.

Before much longer, though, Dylan's first year came to a close. In truth it had sneaked up on him unawares, and he was caught by surprise when Master Tesron summoned him one afternoon after his lessons.

When Dylan entered the master's quarters, he exchanged a brief greeting with Robert, who he learned was very near the time for his Trial of Acceptance, the test in which students complete their terms as initiates and either depart the Academy as educated men and women or become apprentices.

"Good morning, Dylan," Tesron greeted the boy.

"Good morning, master," Dylan replied in kind.

"It's been a long year, hasn't it?" The mage sat at his desk reading a paper. Dylan could not make out the words, due to the distance, but he could see that his name was written across the top of the document.

"I hadn't realized that a year had passed, sir," he replied truthfully.

"Be assured that it has," Tesron said as he folded the paper and placed it to one side. "I want you to know," he continued, "that I'm very pleased with your work and your studies, but I'm concerned with your well being. It seems that work and study are all you seem to be doing these days. That isn't good for you."

Part of Dylan wanted to tell Tesron that he was lonely, but how could he do so without it sounding like he was complaining about his roommates.

Tesron leaned back. "I think that you need a small vacation." He saw the look on Dylan's face and quickly added and explanation to ease the fears. "As I said, I'm very pleased with your work. This is not intended as punishment of any kind. On the contrary, you've advanced far ahead of schedule. Your reading level and mathematical skills are almost a month ahead of what we expected of you." Dylan was not aware of that. It almost made him feel proud.

"I have a letter of achievement for your here," Tesron continued as he passed the folded document to his student. "It's addressed to your parents." He also placed a small bag of coins on the desk. He counted out ten pieces of gold and passed them to Dylan. "This money should be sufficient to book you a seat in a wagon on the next caravan that will be going south and passing near your home. It also contains sufficient funds for your lodging, food and the return trip."

The master then smiled. "If you spend it wisely," he added, "there will be a little extra for you to purchase a small gift of some sort to give to your family upon your arrival."
Dylan's smile broadened as he examined the paper and the money.

"I expect you back here in two weeks," Tesron told him as he turned his attention to another set of papers. Dylan stood there for a few seconds until it was apparent that the interview was over. Then he departed the master's chambers meeting Gage in the process.

"Are you heading home for a spell?" The elf asked.

"About a week or so," Dylan answered cheerfully.

"It is a well deserved vacation," Gage stated in confirmation that his being sent home was in no way a form of punishment. "In truth, you were nominated for a green tunic," he confided quietly placing a hand upon the youth's shoulder. "Unfortunately there are no positions available for you to fill."

Dylan thanked the journeyman and returned to his room to pack his bags. Mally, Eric and the new boy, Ferrial, watched him with interest for the first time.

"Are you going somewhere?" Mally asked.

"Home," Dylan told her.

There was a very slight look of triumph on her face. His failure, she believed, was further evidence that only those who studied magic should be at the Academy. In a rare state of compassion, she attempted to console him. "There is no shame in failing," she told him. "It is the attempt that is important."

Dylan seriously considered letting Mally continue to think that he had been expelled, but before he could reach a decision, Cindy burst into the room and gave Dylan a big hug. "Now it’s my turn to be proud of you," she exclaimed jubilantly. "Do you know how rare it is for an initiate to progress so quickly? A whole month ahead of the curriculum!" She embraced him once again.

"When do you come back?" Cindy asked.

"In two weeks," Dylan replied taking satisfaction in the look of astonishment on Mally's face. He would bet that she had never advanced that quickly.

"I'll miss you," Cindy assured him quietly as they gathered his pack and departed the room.

"I already miss you," he told her pointedly. "I know that you’re busy, but can't you find just a little time to go to the stream and sit on the warm rocks with me?"

Cindy blushed. "I don't know," she answered, and Dylan knew that something was wrong.

Dylan put his pack down and stood in front of her. "Okay," he said forcefully. "Something's up. What is it?"

Cindy stared at the floor and shuffled her feet. "I don't know how to say this," she began. Obviously it was difficult for her.

"Try using words," Dylan goaded.

Cindy's mouth turned upwards in a hint of a smile. For a moment things were back to normal, then almost as quickly she glanced away, her eyes full of guilt.

Dylan was tired of the game. "What is it," he said in a voice that indicated that he was losing patience.

"I met someone," Cindy answered sheepishly. "I met a boy."

"So?"

"'So!?'" Cindy exclaimed with a dangerous lilt. That was obviously a warning to Dylan. He had made a mistake there and if he didn't rectify it quickly Cindy would soon be venting her wrath upon him.

"I mean that surely you can tell me more about this guy other than the fact that he's a boy," Dylan elaborated. "I mean if he has you this whacked out, he must be something special indeed."

Cindy's eyes grew distant. "That he is, Dylan. His name's William and he's thirteen. He works in the butchery part of the kitchen and is studying to become an animal healer and caretaker."

Dylan frowned. "How odd that someone learning to heal and care for the injured would take part of his training in a butchery."

"He's very gentle and sweet," Cindy became defensive.

"How sweet," Dylan asked quietly. Somehow that last question pleased Cindy more than she wanted to admit. Dylan was obviously jealous of her new friend.

"He kisses very nicely," she told him innocently.

"Kisses?"

"And when he holds my hand, it makes me feel all funny inside," she continued.

"Kisses?"

"And he tells me that I'm pretty and when he gives me hugs, he's so strong that I feel so warm and cozy."

"Kisses?"

Cindy glanced at her friend sideways. "Are you turning into a parrot? That's the third time you've said the same thing."

"Kisses?"

“The fourth."

"Are we talking about kissing, as in on the lips?"

"How else?"

"On both lips? At the same time?"

"Dylan, are you okay?"

Dylan nodded and stumbled down the hall. Cindy watched him go. Just as he neared the door leading down into the main floor, he paused and turned around and glanced back at her. "Kisses?"

Cindy waved a farewell and then turned to return to her room, thoroughly pleased with herself. Dylan was terribly jealous, and she felt that comforting.

Chapter 2 Part 3

The next morning, Dylan followed the same routine that had been established the previous morning. He looked for Robert, but only caught the briefest of glimpses of the older boy. Robert did return Dylan's wave, though.

That morning Dylan passed several initiates whose ropes identified them as being in the service of Master Tesron. One boy, named Brett, actually took the time to talk to him as they walked towards their respective work assignments.

Brett apparently worked the laundry and had recently been awarded the green tunic. He was a year older than Dylan and was studying to become tailor. At one point the two of them passed a lone initiate who went out of his way to ignore their friendly greeting.

"Wow," Dylan noted. "Some of these people are rude."

"That was an initiate studying magic," Brett told him. "Haven't you noticed that they think that they are above the rest of us?"

Dylan thought of Mally and her aloofness towards Cindy and himself. "I guess so," he began, "but they aren't all like that."

"The only ones who'll even acknowledge your existence are the ones who serve the same master as you do and any of them that happen to be your roommates."

"I do have one as a room mate," Dylan claimed. "Her name is Mally. She isn't very talkative, but she isn't rude either."

"Wait until you meet her outside your room," Brett warned.

"You mean she'd be like that?"

"That depends," Brett answered. "If she's with her master or an apprentice, she'll be nice to you or anyone else. And if she's alone then she might be nice to you, but if she's with any other initiate who is studying magic, she'll probably look at you like you crawled from under a rock."

"Why are they like that?" Dylan asked.

"Because they think that we shouldn't be here. As far as they're concerned the Academy is only for those who study magic." It was at that time when they reached the point where they parted company as Brett's chores took him in different direction. But his words played on his mind as he returned to his place of work. In a way it explained why Mally was always so disinterested in Cindy and himself.

Walter directed Dylan to continue with the same function he had performed earlier. To Dylan's delight, however, a great deal of progress had been done by other work teams and Dylan found himself starting his task on two rows over from where he had left off the previous day.

The work was easy and Dylan found the time passing swiftly. The only moment of interest occurred when by accident he happened upon the tall human that he had met near the pool the day before. The man glanced at him only briefly and paid the courtesy of a nod before selecting the text he was searching for and retiring to a reading table.

Dylan tried to focus on his business, but curiosity and the knowledge that the man at the table was over a hundred years old and still looked to be in his mid thirties kept drawing his attention from his task.

Walter noticed Dylan's distraction as well. The older boy made a show of giving Dylan some help and took the opportunity to fill his charge in.

"That's Master Ultrecht," Walter informed his worker. "He's the only elementalist to master all eight elements of magic. They say that he's almost a thousand years old and that he was involved in the great Battle of the Gods."

Dylan's mouth dropped. The man had told him that he was over a hundred, but he did not say how much over a hundred. Walter was claiming that the mage was over a thousand years old. Dylan could not even imagine a thousand years. He could count up to one hundred, but he was not familiar with larger numbers as yet. He knew only that a thousand was many hundreds.

"How can someone live so long?" Dylan wondered.

"Magic's the only way," Walter guessed. "And as far as I know, no mage has ever been able to extend his life magically for more than about ten years.

"Are you studying magic?" Dylan asked remembering the earlier conversation with Brett.

"No," Walter answered. "My father makes parchment and paper. I'm going to learn the alchemy and knowledge it takes to make his business prosper."

"Is that why you're working in the library?"

"They like to place us in the environments that we'll be working in as adults," Walter reminded him. Dylan recalled that someone had told him that before.

"What are you going to do when you finish your studies?" Walter asked.

"My father's the Head Quartermaster of the Sandy Hollow Plantation," Dylan replied. "I’ll learn how to warehouse and inventory stock items." Dylan did not intend to use such big words, but compared to the occupations of some of the other kids' parents, his father's seemed a little bland.

Walter seemed to take no notice of the attempt by Dylan to impress him. He just nodded as he replaced a book on the shelf. He glanced at the mage at the table. "Keep working," he urged. "In addition to being very old and accomplished, Master Ultrecht holds some kind of authority among the other masters. I'm not sure what it is, but they all listen to him when he speaks." Dylan nodded and made a show of being busy.

When Walter left, Dylan forced himself not to look at anything except the books before him. But after several moments, his resolve wore thin and he chanced a quick glance at the table. The master was gone.

Later that day, Dylan had trouble concentrating on his studies. He kept remembering the two strange encounters with the mysterious master elementalist. Kayla noticed his absent mindedness, but instead of becoming angry she simply inquired as to what was on his mind.

"I met a man yesterday afternoon," Dylan told her. "He claimed to be over a hundred years old, but he was human and looked only a little older than my dad. He wore the gold sash of a master and the lining of his robe was purple."

Kayla nodded. "That would be Master Ultrecht," she agreed. "He's very strange indeed. I've heard that he's read the Tome of Creation."

"What's that?" Dylan asked. He knew what tomes were, but he was not familiar with what was contained in them.

"It's a very special book that only a few people have even seen much less read. The story goes that Master Ultrecht used that book to capture the dead sun and use its fire to defeat the evil one."

Cindy looked up from the book she was reading. "I've heard my father talk of the time when there were two suns," she recalled. "That must have been something special to see."

Kayla agreed. "I've heard the masters and some of the older journeymen talk of it as well. They say the years were very long then and that the warm season only came once every ten cycles of the smaller moon."

"How long is that?" Dylan asked.

Kayla redirected his attention to his work. "You'll learn about time another day," she promised. "For now you need to learn to read. Now let us go over those consonants again."

The week dragged on and Dylan spent each day working with Walter. The chore was tedious, but not hard. And as his lessons progressed, he began to read the name of each book as he cleaned it. Most of the time, he did not understand what some of the words meant, but at least he could pronounce them.

The lessons themselves began to get easier. Once he learned the sounds of the letters, he was taught how different combinations of letters sounded. Kayla told him that learning that would help him read more complex words and also to spell words that he had never seen before. She said that phonics, as she had called it, was the most fundamental part of reading and writing.

Dylan found that he enjoyed the reading when the subject was of interest to him, but when it wasn’t; it was very hard to concentrate.

Math, he discovered, was always interesting and well ordered. The numbers always behaved the same way and his math could be checked easily by reversing what he had just done. For several days, Gage had assisted Kayla in tutoring Cindy and him. Dylan decided that he was very fond of both the apprentice and the journeyman.

By the end of the first month, Dylan had learned to read small words and short sentences. He was fairly competent in addition and subtraction, and he could write his name and several other words well enough to be recognizable.

The finale of the month was when per Master Tesron's orders, Dylan wrote a letter to his parents. Under Kayla's watchful eye, he signed the crude yet impressive document with his full name. Very few of the adults on the plantation could read or write, and none of the younger people could, so his letter was undoubtedly going to be the object of some excitement when it arrived at Sandy Hollow.

The last day of the week was called the day of the lost sun. It was to honor the sun that had been sacrificed to defeat the God Eater, the terrible monster that had destroyed the gods. The new temple, the Word of Creation, taught that the Creator had acted through mortal men to destroy the God Eater.

Dylan had heard the story many times and many adults on the plantation enjoyed telling of the dreadful season when everything was dying until that fateful day when the sky exploded in a bright light and one of the suns disappeared.

The temple preached that on that day, the Creator descended to personally take back the world from the misguided creatures who had called themselves gods. It was on the last day of the week that services were held, and studies were shortened so that any initiate who wanted to attend could do so.

Dylan attended more out of habit than faith. At first he was attentive, but as the priest spoke of the misguided men who had worshiped the many gods, he found his mind wandering. Soon, however, the sermon was over and the priest bade everyone a peaceful week.

When Dylan returned to his room, Cindy was waiting for him. "Do you want to go into town?" she asked.

Suddenly, the dread of a boring evening vanished from Dylan's thoughts. "You bet!" he exclaimed happily.

Cindy opened her trunk and pulled forth a small pouch. "Look," she whispered as she emptied its contents into her hand. "I have six Seronian Coppers. That is about the same as an Allentown silver piece. My father sends me a little money every month. With this we can get some yum-yums and watch a play."

"I don't have any money," Dylan admitted. His father could barely afford to take care of his family. Though he felt his father would send money if he asked for it, he knew that it would only make it hard on his family.

"Oh, don't worry," Cindy tossed a pair of coins at her roommate. "This one's my treat."

Dylan hated the thought of accepting charity, but he did so want to see the city. "Gee, thanks," he said gratefully.

Cindy flashed him a smile that gave him a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach. Dylan could only hope that he was not getting sick as he followed her out of the room.

As they exited the Academy, Cindy led the way down the cobblestone streets to a tavern. She boldly stepped inside and sat at a table. Dylan followed her lead, though his palms were sweating profusely.

"Are you sure that we won't get into trouble?" he asked.

"Oh, it's okay," Cindy assured him. "It's quite common for initiates to visit the town after services. As long as we stay out of Tent City we'll be okay."

"You aren't afraid of getting robbed or killed?" Dylan asked as he casually and cautiously surveyed the other occupants of the tavern. It was midday, and there were very few patrons there to drink. Most of the other customers were eating and appeared harmless, but Dylan had heard many stories about crime in the city.

"Don't worry," she said as she pulled at the sleeve of her tunic. "Do you see this?"

Dylan involuntarily glanced at his own matching attire. "So?"

"Everyone knows that we're initiates. They all know that we probably don't have much money if we have any money at all, that is. And these tunics also serve as a warning that if something bad happens to us, it'll attract the full wrath of the Magic User's Guild. Not even a starving murderer is going to risk that."

It was at that time that boy about three years older than them stopped by their table. He looked at them briefly and asked what they would like to eat. Cindy ordered beef stew and a cup of cider. She indicated that Dylan would have the same and the boy left.

"Cider?" Dylan asked in a whisper.

"They can't expect us not to have a little fun," she replied with a grin. The action made her tiny nose wrinkle and it struck Dylan as cute and he stifled a laugh, but if Cindy noticed it, she dismissed it.

They spent the next ten minutes watching various people come in and leave. They played a game of trying to guess what each one did for a living. The game passed the time and soon their food and drinks had arrived.

They ate the stew, which was very warm and tasty. It was complimented by the chilly cider. Dylan had never had cider or any other form of drink other than water, milk, or fruit juice before. His first taste of the cider made him frown and Cindy giggled at the face. But after several minutes, he found that by holding his breath until after he had swallowed the drink, the bittersweet taste was not so strong.

Dylan finished the cider quickly and looked across the table at his roommate. Cindy too had finished her drink. She placed a copper coin on the table and climbed out of the chair. Then she headed for the door. Dylan did the same thing and found that as he got out of the chair, a warm feeling had settled over him. He felt strangely happy and giddy.

Cindy took Dylan several streets over from the main entrance to the Academy. There a court jester stood on the corner of the street juggling several metal hoops. He was singing a silly song that made no sense and was dancing at the same time.

The kids watched him for a few moments, and when his song was finished, they clapped with approval. The jester bowed and instructed them that should they wish to see more, that they should attend his show at the Haver Hall, a local theater.

Cindy and Dylan agreed to be there at the appointed time, which was only a little more than an hour away. Until then, they meandered aimlessly through the streets looking at the woodcrafting and metalsmithing displays.

At one point, they even saw Kayla and some young man wearing a shiny breastplate and tabard coming out of a silversmith's shop. The two were holding hands and walking slowly.

Kayla spotted them and smiled as they waved, but she was far too engrossed in her companion to stop and talk.

"That's Karal," Cindy told her companion. "They've been seeing each other for some time. "He's a sergeant in the city guard."

"Are they going to get married?" Dylan asked.

"I don't know," Cindy admitted. "But it'd be kind of romantic."

Dylan did not like to talk mush, so he decided to change the subject. "When does the show start?"

Dylan and Cindy watched entranced as the jester and his troupe of entertainers sang songs, told stories, and acted out realistic scenes of famous battles. For two solid hours they played before an audience of several dozen. When it was over, Cindy stood and tossed one of her coins onto the stage. Then after Dylan copied her gesture, the two of them left.

It was staring to get fairly late, so they headed back towards the Academy. They only stopped long enough at the tavern to order a bowl of strawberry flavored ice and two spoons. Together the friends munched happily on the cool treat and then returned to the Academy.

Chapter 2 Part 2

When morning came, a single note sounded repeatedly as a lone individual marched up and down the hallway ringing a hand bell announced it. Dylan rolled over and sat up on his cot. His legs were still covered by his blanket and rubbed his eyes sleepily. Cindy rolled out of her cot and opened the chest at its head. She took a fresh tunic and put her sandals on her feet. Dylan noted that Mally and Roger were doing the same thing. Following their example, he did likewise.

As the others left the room, Dylan followed. In the hall, Dylan saw a multitude of initiates all making wearily for the end of the hall. There they segregated themselves by gender and entered the appropriate washroom. Dylan followed the other boys.

There was little talk at first, and most of the occupants made use of a long trough of fresh water fed by a pipe in the wall. They disrobed and splashed the water on their bodies with shallow dippers. Then they rubbed themselves down with soap and repeated the rinsing action. The water and suds were carried away through holes in the stone floor.

Dylan observed for a few moments then, when the crowd thinned out, he too bathed. There seemed to be no modesty as the boys all moved about naked in their various states of puberty.

Some of the older boys took minor joy in teasing each other about the size and maturity or lack thereof of their privates. It was of course all in good humor and was nothing that Dylan had not heard from the field hands bathing in the creek back on the farm.

After washing, Dylan returned to the outer part of the washroom. There were still many boys sitting on the rows of benches, talking and laughing. The bath seemed to awaken most of the inhabitants sufficiently for conversations to begin.

Dylan sat naked on the bench just as the other boys were. He immediately noticed the soft warm breeze drifting through the room.

"You're new aren't you?" a thin young man about Roger's height and age sat next to him. His voice was deep and pleasant.

Dylan replied in his boyish soprano. "Yes," he answered quietly. "Today’s my first day after the Rite of Meditation."

"Who’s your master?"

"I’m here to learn from Master Tesron," Dylan answered. For some reason it never seemed comfortable to acknowledge someone as his master. He did not consider himself a slave.

"Master Tesron’s an excellent teacher," the older boy agreed. "He's my master too." He stuck out his hand in greeting. "My name's Robert," he introduced himself. "And you must be Dillan."

"Dylan," Dylan corrected. "How'd you know?"

"I'm the senior initiate," Robert claimed. He held up his bundle. It was his red tunic, rolled tightly and tied with a belt rope.

Dylan looked embarrassed at his own bundle. The tunic was wrinkled and balled up. He glanced back at Robert and was about to apologize when the older boy smiled warmly.

"Here," Robert took the balled mess. "Let me show you how." Robert spread Dylan's new tunic out on the bench and then flattened it out. "First fold the sides in so that they meet in the middle. Then begin at the top and fold it in half. Then start at the fold and roll it up like this." He then took Dylan's rope and looped it about the roll twice and then tied it tightly.
"Tie it tightly and it won't come loose. It also won't wrinkle," he said. He inspected the rope and the knots at the ends. He nodded satisfied. "Who taught you our knots?" he asked.

"I share a room with Cindy," Dylan answered. "She told me about them and I think she tied those."

Robert smiled. "Cindy's very quick and smart," he appraise. "She'll make a fine alchemist."

"I like her too," Dylan agreed. "It was very nice of her to show me around yesterday afternoon."

Robert stood and rubbed a hand across his backside. "I'm dry enough," he decided, and unrolled his tunic and began to dress himself.

Dylan mimicked the older boy's actions. "How does the warm breeze get in here?" he asked.

"There's a fan that blows air through a metal pipe that leads from the furnace," Robert told him. "It will be warm even in the winter."

"That'll be nice," Dylan decided.

Robert finished dressing by tying his rope around his waist. Dylan noted that all the other boys gave Robert plenty of room. "Well," the senior initiate addressed his charge, "let's get you back to your room so that you can make your bed. Then I'll show you where you'll be working today."

"What kind of work will I be doing?" Dylan asked.

Robert led Dylan from the washroom back into the crowded hallway. They each carried their old tunics. "Well until you learn to read and perform mathematics, your work will probably be menial. But as soon as you learn enough, I or whoever Master Tesron chooses to replace me will see to it that you're placed in an inventory team. That way you can begin to learn your father's trade before you finish here at the Academy."

Dylan nodded absently until it dawned on him that Robert knew an awful lot about him. He glanced up suspiciously, an action that the red tunic initiate did not miss. Robert just laughed. "Master Tesron feels that it's very wise to assign duties to each initiate that can teach him about his future profession."

"That's an awfully good idea," Dylan agreed. "Did he tell you what my father did?"

"No, Gage did."

Dylan opened the door and stepped inside. Immediately a large hand fell on his shoulder and hurled him roughly towards the window. Dylan tripped over his own feet and fell on the floor.

"Make yourself useful, new boy," Roger's harsh voice flailed down at him. "Make my bed, and be quick about it."

"Leave him alone, Roger," Cindy screeched as she hurried over to help Dylan up.

"Your actions will betray you one of these days, Roger," Mally warned from her cot.

"Shut up, both of you," Roger demanded. "I'm the senior initiate in this room and what I say goes."

Dylan turned around to face Roger, his small hands clenched. Cindy, who was already facing Roger suddenly spun and turned her back to the bully. She stood in front of Dylan and when he looked at her face, he could see that she was trying to stifle a laugh.

Curious, Dylan looked past her. There stood Roger all puffed up daring anyone to defy his authority, and right behind him, silently waiting was Robert, observing the whole affair. It was all too obvious that Roger was unaware of the additional audience. Dylan also noted that from her vantage point, Mally too could not see Robert.

"I don't recall promising to serve you," Dylan told the bully. "And I think that I should give you fair warning that our senior initiate will be coming to get me soon," he added. A twitch in Cindy's face indicated that she approved of that last statement.

"If you think I'm afraid of that red tunic son of a carpenter, Robert, you'd better think again," Roger sneered. "So I would advise that you get started in making that bed right now before I have to loosen a couple of teeth."

"But if I make your bed, and Robert sees me doing it, he'll ask me why," Dylan countered.

"Then you'll just have to tell him that you and I're such good friends that you wanted to do it for me," Roger advised through a clenched jaw.

"Are we friends?" Dylan asked.

"Not on your life," Roger snapped. "I'm going to make your life miserable, and if you tell Robert or that dog faced apprentice, Kayla, I'll break both your legs and make it look like an accident."

"I don't think so," Robert muttered pushing his way past Roger. He entered the room and herded Cindy and Dylan towards their cots. Mally made no motion or even any hint that she was aware of the red clad initiate's presence.

Roger's eyes went wide momentarily then narrowed. "So here he is," he drawled out attempting to regain his composure. "Well, Robert, are you here to pick up your new little warts."

Dylan tensed up. He had had about enough of the taunting. If he was going to get pounded, he wanted to at least get a good lick or two in.

Cindy's hand caught his arm gently. Ever so slightly she shook her head urging him not to act.

"You're out of your authority here," Roger claimed as he taunted Robert. "What goes on in this room is none of your business. And I'm not required to answer to you outside of this room either."

"You're mistaken," Robert disagreed. "What happens to my juniors is my business, regardless of where they are."

Roger stepped forward boldly. He rather forcefully pointed his finger at Robert's chest and shoved. Robert wavered, but stood his ground.

"What," Roger goaded, "aren't you man enough to stand up for yourself?"

"Fighting is forbidden on the Academy grounds," Robert reminded his antagonist. "But, if you really want to fight, I'll be glad to accommodate you off the grounds."

Roger smiled. "So you’re a coward. You fear to risk a little slap on the wrist to prove yourself." With that he put both hands against Robert's chest and shoved hard. Robert stepped back involuntarily and almost fell, but the wall prevented it.

"What do you say to fighting me now?" Roger demanded. He was even more forceful now that it was evident that Robert did not want to fight. "I can afford to be a little late to work," Roger growled as he stepped forward.

"I'm afraid that you'll be much more than a little late for work," Kayla announced as she entered the room. Dylan noted that Mally sat upright and became attentive at the apprentice's appearance.

"Robert," Gage addressed the senior initiate as he followed Kayla into the room. "Would you be so kind as to inform Roger's task leader that he will not be at work today, nor is he likely to be in the Academy after this little display of belligerence."

Roger's jaw dropped. He glared at everyone in the room then hung his head and ignored the world in general.

Kayla turned to Dylan, Mally and Cindy. "Would you three please excuse us?" She nodded to Robert. "You may as well take Dylan with you," she told him. "Gage and I wish to speak to Roger for a moment, then we'll escort him to his master."

Robert nodded and motioned for Cindy, Mally and Dylan to follow him. When they were in the hallway, Mally and Cindy left to go to their respective chores. Cindy waved cheerfully as she departed.

"That was certainly a scene," Robert said with a grin.

"I thought he was going to sock you one," Dylan admitted.

"He might've tried, but Kayla and Gage were standing outside the door almost from the very start. They only needed to wait until Roger stepped over the line by shoving me and trying to pick a fight. Then they could step in. Most likely you'll have one less roommate by night fall."

"To be honest with you," Robert mused, "I half expected Kayla to turn him into a toad when he called her a 'dog faced apprentice'."

"Could she do that?" Dylan gasped in awe.

"No," Robert laughed. "After all, she's only an apprentice." Robert paused to think. "Now Gage might could, though."

"Well, Kayla isn't dog faced. Actually," Dylan mused, "I think Kayla is kind of pretty."
Robert laughed aloud. He scrubbed his knuckles across Dylan's head. "Come on," he urged. "Let's get you to work."

Robert led Dylan to a long hall in one of the other large buildings. When he opened the door, Dylan caught the faint scent of old leather and ink. Inside the large room were long rows of thousands of books.

A man dressed in the black robe of a master approached. About his waist was a gold sash with shiny brass clasps on the ends. The lining of his robe was yellow. "Good morning, Robert," he offered as he drew near the two boys. "Who've you got with you?"

"Good morning, Master Jolian," Robert returned the greeting. "This is Dylan," he introduced, "Master Tesron's newest initiate. He'll be assisting you today since Brently's sick."

"Oh?" the master seemed surprised. "Is it serious?"

"I don't think so," Robert laughed. "Brently's a tough lad physically, but when it comes to a touch of the cold, he curls up like a little baby."

"I can imagine that," Jolian chuckled. "Well, boy," he addressed Dylan. "I guess you can help by cleaning off the shelves and oiling the leather bound volumes."

"Robert," Jolian instructed, "Walter's back there somewhere. Would you please escort this fine young man to the task leader?"

"Yes, Master Jolian." Robert motioned for Dylan to follow and then headed off between to shelves of books.

"What kind of mage is he?" Dylan asked his leader. "I don't recall being told what the yellow trim of the robes represent."

"Master Jolian isn't a mage," Robert told him as he turned a corner and stopped. Robert listened carefully for a moment until he heard a faint noise indicating where the object of his search may dwell. Then he selected another aisle and followed it. "He's a sage. They specialize in the keeping and categorization of knowledge. It may not be a glorified profession, but among the more learned arts, it's a highly honorable one and sages are generally held in very high regard."

“I also noticed that Master Tesron wears blue trim and Gage wears red trim and I even saw someone yesterday with green trim,” Dylan observed.

“That’s right,” Robert answered the unspoken question. “The red trim is worn by wizards, the blue is worn by sorcerers and the green is worn by warlocks.”

Dylan nodded. He was about to inquire further when a sound ahead of him interrupted his question. Robert led Dylan to a group of initiates who were gathered around an older imitate wearing a green tunic.

"Knowledge may be passed from one person to another verbally," the boy was saying as he carefully leafed through a string bound tome. "But, word of mouth can often be changed unintentionally. By writing knowledge down, we preserve it for the future in its original form. Properly recorded knowledge endures long after the author has passed away."

The boy, a task leader, closed the book and replaced it on the shelf. When he stood, Dylan saw that he had a heavy rag of some soft material that he was gently wiping across the surfaces of each and every book he picked up.

"How very prophetic," Robert interrupted.

"Good morning, Robert," the task leader replied. His eyes shifted briefly as he noted Dylan's presence. "Brently didn't arrive on his own this morning. Can I assume that he's not coming?"

"Yep," Robert said standing aside. "This is Dylan, my master's newest initiate. He'll be substituting for Brently this morning."

Walter, the task leader, studied him for a moment. "He's kinda short isn't he?"

"That'll give you someone to work the lower shelves without having to bend over," Robert grinned.

Walter returned the grin and extended his hand. "Okay, Dylan, welcome to the team, at least for today."

When Robert left, Walter directed Dylan to a long bookshelf covered in a fine layer of dust. "Unfortunately," Walter began, "there are so many books here and so few of us that it takes almost a full year of working to get back to the same book."

Walter plucked a tome from the shelf. "Most of the books are leather bound," he explained. "The best thing we can do for them is to oil them down to keep the leather from drying out or mildewing. The scrolls," he nodded to a shelf several rows over, "are even more difficult to care for. We do our best by storing them in canisters along with a talc powder designed to keep them dry and prevent the rolls of parchment from rubbing against each other."

Walter demonstrated what he wanted Dylan to do, and then tuned the detail over to the junior worker. Dylan found himself removing large quantities of books from the shelves. He could not read so he did not know what they were about, but he could count, at least up to one hundred, and the number of books he removed from the shelves, dusted, oiled down and checked for torn pages far exceeded the scope of his counting ability. In spite of his efforts, the sheer volume of records in the building was of such a magnitude, that when it came time for them to all go and eat, Dylan could not see where he had made any appreciable progress.

Walter, on the other hand, apparently had been at his job for some time, for though Dylan could not see the results of his efforts, Walter nodded approvingly several times during the morning hours. "Well done," he said on one occasion as he walked by the shelf Dylan was working on.

It was near midday when Robert returned for him. Dylan almost wished that the senior initiate had waited a little longer as he had almost completed a full shelf when the older boy arrived.

"That's quite a bit of work," Robert appraised the results of Dylan’s labors. "Don't worry, the next shift will finish it up for you."

"You mean that there are people who do this after we quit?" Dylan asked as Walter approached.

"That's right," Robert told him. "Some of the initiates work in the afternoon and study in the morning. You'll be working in the morning and studying in the afternoon with Cindy, your roommate."

Robert led Dylan back towards his room. Dylan noted that the older boy's hands were dirty. "What kind of work did you do?"

Robert blushed a slightly. "Garbage," he answered.

Dylan frowned, puzzled. "It seems to me that if you assigned the duties, you'd at least give yourself something less disgusting."

"I'm afraid that I wasn't given choice about this," Robert admitted. "The garbage detail was Roger's. According to the rules, when I turned Roger in for disciplinary action, I had to cover for him."

"That's a stupid rule," Dylan observed.

"Really?" Robert sounded surprised. "Did you know that I was thinking the same thing less than two hours ago?"

"Then why don't they do something about it?"

Robert sighed. "The rule is that way for a very good reason," he explained. "If it weren't, I might be more inclined to report many incidents to the masters that aren't really that important. By making the senior initiates replace those who are dismissed for disciplinary action, the masters discourage the misuse of our power."

"So making you do the garbage is to keep you from abusing your authority?" Dylan asked.

Robert smiled. "Something like that."

"Does it work?"

Robert chuckled. "Well I certainly don't think I'll try to get anyone else expelled in the near future."

"I guess it does work," Dylan concluded. "How long will you have to do the garbage?"

"Until another initiate gets into trouble," Robert laughed and poked playfully at Dylan, “so you'd better behave."

Robert left Dylan at his room with instructions to clean up and make himself ready for his tutor, Kayla. "She'll come by and get you and Cindy in less than half an hour, so be ready."

Dylan took a clean cloth from his room and went to the shower where he washed his face and hands thoroughly. When he returned to the room, Cindy was waiting for him. She was brushing her hair and Dylan caught the scent of fresh bread as he entered the room.

"Have you been baking bread?" he asked.

"All morning long," Cindy answered.

"You smell good," he offered innocently. He realized how it sounded as soon as he said it, but Cindy only laughed.

"Not if you had to smell it all day," she told him.

There was a knock on the door which opened to reveal Kayla standing in the entrance. She was smiling and for a brief moment her eyes half closed dreamily. "Mmmm," she murmered. "You've been baking bread today, haven't you Cindy?"

"Yes, Kayla," she answered with a sigh.

"I always like teaching you on bread day." She nodded as she appraised Dylan. "Well, sport," she reached out and patted his shoulder. "Are you ready to begin?"

"I'm ready," Dylan answered.

"Let's go then," she stepped aside and ushered her charges out of the room. Cindy, having long gotten used to the routine, led the way to the main floor of the Academy. With Dylan in tow, and Kayla following closely, Cindy wound her way deeper into the bowls of the great complex.

Near the end of one corridor, Cindy paused at a large wooden door. Kayla joined her and Dylan stood to one side. The apprentice removed a key from her robe and unlocked the door. "These are Master Tesron's facilities," Kayla informed her new pupil. There are three laboratories and six smaller study rooms plus a small library containing specialized books and scrolls dealing with Master Tesron's particular specializations."

"We study in here," Cindy said grasping Dylan by the hand and pulling him into one of the study rooms.

Dylan sat at a table with three chairs. Next to him sat Kayla and next to her sat Cindy. There were several books and a pair of black slates with accompanying chalk. Kayla selected a book and passed it to Cindy. "Cindy," she instructed the girl, "I want you to read this chapter. While you're doing that, I'll start working with Dylan on teaching him to read and write."

Cindy frowned, but took the book. Then Kayla took one of the slates and a piece of chalk. "Lets start by learning the letters of the alphabet and what sounds they make," she suggested to Dylan.

Dylan's first day of lessons went quickly. He learned about vowels and the sounds that they made under different circumstances. Kayla also taught him to write those letters and made him practice them to some length while she instructed Cindy.

Cindy's oral reading, though discontinuous, was none the less quite understandable and Dylan was suitably impressed. By the end of the lessons, Dylan's writing had sufficiently improved so that the letters could be easily recognized.

The sunlight shining in through the skylight at the top of the wall had turned a deep golden as sunset approached when Kayla finally called a halt to the lessons. She dismissed Cindy and Dylan indicating that the rest of the day was at their pleasure. "Just be sure to be on time for chores tomorrow morning," she urged.

"Will Robert come by like he did this morning?" Dylan asked. "I was told that I was only filling in for a sick initiate this morning."

"I'm told that Brently’s very ill and won't be back to that task for at least a week," Kayla explained. "So until you hear differently, assume that you are to keep the same task."

Cindy and Dylan walked quickly back to their room. Cindy flopped down on her bed and kicked her shoes off. She lay back and propped her feet up on the adjacent wall. Her tunic lifted up noticeably and revealed her undergarment. Dylan averted his eyes bashfully.
After a couple of long moments of quiet, Cindy had a brainstorm. "Let's go eat," she suggested.

Dylan considered the suggestion and quickly concluded that it was an awfully good idea. "Okay," he agreed.

Cindy led the way to the dining hall. She entered the line and Dylan fell in behind her. He took a tray mimicking Cindy's actions and selected a steaming bowl of stew from the buffet. When they reached the bread, Dylan saw Cindy make a motion to the attendant. The initiate behind the counter reached into a large basket and drew forth a fresh roll and passed it to her.

Dylan watched and when Cindy vacated the position, he took her place. The attendant behind the counter ignored him completely and Dylan settled for selecting a soft but other wise cold roll from the counter.

Dylan followed his roommate to a table where he sat on the bench next to her. "How'd you get that initiate to give you fresh bread?" he asked.

"There are a lot of things that go on around here that you just sort of have to learn," she replied. "One of those things is that people who work together tend to help each other out. That initiate was Theo, one of Master Farell's students. He works in the bakery in the afternoon. So he let me get something fresh from the oven."

"Is that really fair?" Dylan tore his roll in two. It was not quite as tough as leather, but it wasn't far from it.

"Well," Cindy explained, "when you get your permanent assignment, you and your co-workers will do the same thing. I guess as long as everyone does it and no one gets left out, then it's fair."

Dylan frowned and Cindy laughed. "I know," she consoled his puzzlement. "I asked the same thing when I first got here. Gage told me that in addition to being fairly harmless, it taught us to make use of our resources."

After they had eaten, Cindy coaxed Dylan out into the courtyard, the large garden that existed in the midst of the various buildings of the Academy. Dozens of masters, journeymen, apprentices, and initiates milled about in small groups talking casually. Cindy paused by a side trail that wound back into the shrubbery and left the paved path.

Dylan watched suspiciously as she rounded the hedge and disappeared. After a brief pause, she stuck her head back around the foliage and motioned for him to follow. Dylan sighed and though he was sure that he would get into trouble for walking on the grass or something, he still felt the tingle of excitement that always accompanied a venture into mischief. So with only token hesitation, Dylan quickly dashed into the bushes.

Dylan followed the flashing white tunic of his roommate as Cindy darted in and around the bushes heading deeper into the miniature, well-groomed forest. Within moments, he came to a stop beside her as she stood on an outcropping of granite that jutted out into a clear pool of water. A small spring bubbled from the rocks a little farther up the way, and tumbled down a tiny waterfall to collect in the basin before them. A ways to their right a tiny stream evacuated the excess accumulation out of the glade.

Cooing with delight, Cindy unfastened her sandals and sat at the edge of the rock to dangle her tiny feet into the cool water. She wiggled her toes and splashed playfully. Then she leaned back on the sun-warmed rock. "Come on and try it," she urged. "It feels so good."

Dylan sat at the edge of the rock and peered over the edge. "Are you sure that it's allowed?"

"No one's ever told me otherwise," Cindy informed him, "and I've been doing this for several weeks."

"I also don't see anyone else doing it," Dylan countered. "That makes me think it might not be allowed."

"Well I've seen someone else here," Cindy rebutted. "It was a master and he saw me. He didn't say anything to me so I'm going to assume that it was all right."

Dylan saw her point. He sat and removed his own shoes. He tested the water cautiously with his toe. "I wonder if fish can smell dirty feet?" he wondered aloud.

Cindy sat up instantly. "Are you saying that my feet stink?"

"No," Dylan assured her. A lesson his father had told him long ago came to mind. When dealing with a woman, the best answer is no answer. Dylan changed the subject.

"This is a very pretty place," he took in his surroundings critically.

"Thank you," Cindy smiled impishly.

"I wasn't talking about you," Dylan began and immediately wished he had kept quiet.

"You mean I'm not pretty?"

"Yes! I mean no!" It was too late; Dylan saw the sandal flying at him. Youthful reflexes saved him, however and Cindy's left sandal went sailing out into the pool with a quiet splash.

"I mean, yes, you are pretty and no, that's not what I had meant," Dylan tried to explain.
Cindy's glare softened. "Well why didn't you say that in the first place," she scolded. “Then my shoe wouldn't be out in the water. Now you'll have to go out there and get it."

"Me? Why me? It's your shoe and you threw it. Why don't you go and get it?"

"Because I am a girl, silly."

"What's that got to do with it?"

"Oh, Dylan," Cindy sighed in frustration. "Don't you know what a wet white tunic looks like on a girl?"

"No," he admitted, "what?"

Cindy rolled her eyes. "It makes our boobs show through, dummy."

"I didn't know you had boobs," Dylan told her. The reaction was nothing at all what he had expected. This time the sandal did hit him square between the eyes. When the spots disappeared, Dylan realized that Cindy had left and she had done so without her shoes.

"What did I do wrong?" he asked himself.

"You failed to notice that your friend was a girl," a deep voice answered him. Dylan turned to see a tall man in the robe of a master standing not far away.

"She was trying to get you to acknowledge that she was either pretty or sexy. I know that the second concept is a little strange to one of your age, but the first one should have been clear enough."

"I didn't mean to disturb you, master," Dylan apologized. He stood up and turned to go.

"There's no need for you to leave," the tall man informed him. "Besides, you would be well advised not to seek your friend out unless you have both of her shoes."

Dylan looked around helplessly until his eye spotted a long stick lying next to one of the leaning willow trees that hung out across the pool. He grabbed the stick and shinnied out over the water where he snagged the floating sandal and hauled it closer to the shore. When it was within reaching distance, Dylan easily retrieved the object. He held his trophy up for the master to see.

The tall man shook his head and his black hair fluffed slightly. "You still don't see it do you?" The master approached as Dylan examined the shoe more closely. What was he supposed to see?

Without warning, the tall human lifted Dylan and tossed him into the water. Dylan came to the surface sputtering. He stumbled, confounded to the granite outcropping and climbed out of the chilly water. Then he sat shivering on the sun-warmed rock. "I beg your pardon, master, but why'd you do that?"

"You're just a little too clever," the master explained with a chuckle. "Your friend, the little girl, wanted you to make a sacrifice for her. By wimping out on telling her that she was pretty, and by failing to notice that she had boobs, you then failed to go through a little discomfort for her sake."

Dylan shook his head and closed his eyes. "How does anyone come to understand women?"

The mage laughed. "No one ever does, son. But now that you went to all the trouble of getting totally soaked for the sake of rescuing your friend's shoes, you may very well find that you’re again in her good graces."

Dylan looked at Cindy's sandals and then sat. "Do your initiates act like this too?" he asked.

The man glanced at the rope around Dylan's waist. "You are one of Tesron's pupils aren't you?"

"Yes," Dylan answered.

"Well, believe it or not," the mage replied, "Tesron was my first student, and at this time I don't have any apprentices."

"How can that be?" Dylan wondered speculatively. "Master Tesron must be at least forty years old, and you don't look very old at all."

The man laughed. "I just look young," he admitted. "In truth I'm over one hundred years old."

Dylan's eyes went wide. "I beg your pardon, sir," he said taking an involuntary step backwards. In doing so he slipped and almost toppled into the water, but was saved by a strong hand on the end of a long arm.

"What's wrong?" the man asked.

"I thought you were a man," Dylan answered reluctantly.

"I'm human," the man informed him.

"That's impossible," Dylan argued. "Humans can't live that long."

"You are a very amazing little boy," the man chuckled. "You wear the tunic of an initiate, and in the same breath call a master elementalist a liar and claim to know what is and what is not possible."

Dylan blushed. "I apologize," he muttered sheepishly. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Well what did you mean?"

"I was wondering how a human could live so long and still look so young."

The master smiled and turned Dylan back towards the main complex. "Let's just say that I'm a very unusual person." He handed the girl's shoes to Dylan. "I suggest you take these and try to salvage your friendship with that young lady."

Dylan frowned. Why should he bow and scrape to Cindy. She had thrown her own shoe into the pool and hit him in the face with one of them to boot. "She's just a girl," he muttered irritably.

"Not for much longer," the tall strange master informed him. "She'll soon be a young woman and I suggest you notice her very often or your life is going to be very difficult."

Dylan took a couple of steps forward and then turned. The mage waved and nodded. "Be brave young man, for you go to serve a fair maiden," he laughed.

Dylan sighed and walked back towards the main building. Several passers by gave him strange looks as he dripped water with every step. He felt totally humiliated and miserable when he finally entered the room.

Cindy lay on her bed fuming. She glanced at him briefly as he stepped through the door then she did a double take. When she observed his soaked attire and her rescued sandals, her gaze softened considerably.

Cindy sat upright and giggled. "You're wet," she said.

Dylan felt stunned by her brilliant observation. He responded only by holding her shoes out for her.

Cindy got up from her bed and took the shoes. "Dylan," she complained, "you are dripping all over the floor. Go take a bath and put on some dry clothes."

Dylan made no attempts to argue or rebel. He simply did as she told him. He had the strange feeling that it would not be the first time in his life that he would do what she asked of him.

After Dylan returned from the bath hall in a fresh clean outfit, he found that Cindy had cleaned the mess he had made on the floor and was waiting for him. When he placed his wet clothes in the basin to be picked up by the laundry detail, Cindy watched him wordlessly as she hummed quietly to herself.

The sun had gone down by that time and only the light from the oil lamp on the table enabled them to see each other. It was obvious that Cindy wanted to talk since she kept glancing over at him, and Dylan reasoned that in some way he was the one who was supposed to start the conversation. He feared that if he didn't, that he would be in for a repeat of the shoe throwing incident.

"Will your shoes dry out by morning?" he asked.

Cindy answered almost immediately. "Yes they will. Thank you for getting them for me."

"That's okay," he conceded. "You were right. It's not proper for a girl as mature as you are to be wearing a wet white tunic."

"Oh, so you have been noticing?" Cindy's voice was triumphant. Then almost as if the lights had been blown out, her mood changed radically. "Why have you been looking?" she asked accusingly.

Dylan felt like screaming. He was on the verge of getting up and leaving the room when he caught the hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth.

Two could play the same game, he decided. "I didn't notice until you brought it up," he said. He pause until he saw her eyes flash angrily then he quickly continued. "Your face is so pretty that I hadn't had time to look at anything else." There! Let her chew on that one.

Before Cindy could respond, Mally entered the room. She nodded briefly to her roommates and proceeded to move all of her belongings over to Roger's bed. It was at that point that Dylan noticed that all of Roger's belongings were gone. Apparently he was no longer enrolled at the Academy.

The significance of what he was there for and the price of failure settled once more to the forefront of Dylan's consciousness. He decided that it would be best to avoid sharing Roger's fate at all costs.

Chapter 2 Part 1

Lessons

When Kayla dropped Dylan off at his new quarters, she only made brief introductions, but she stayed for a moment and made it plain to the other three occupants that she expected them to accept Dylan and to show him around.

Dylan's new living space was anything but private. He shared a room with three other students, two girls and another boy. The boy, Dylan observed, was much taller and older, maybe even sixteen, and was proud of the fact that he shaved every other week, even though there was no visible evidence that it was needed. His name was Roger and he made it clear that the other three roommates were little more than an irritant to him--with the possible exception of Mally, the older of the two girls.

Mally was twelve, and getting very curvy. She acknowledged Dylan, but for the most part kept to her studies when they were not in class or at work. Mally, Dylan learned was actually at the Academy to learn magic, unlike the other two occupants and himself.

Cindy, the other girl was Dylan's age, and had gone through the Ritual of Meditation only three months earlier. Cindy, like himself, was also an initiate bound to the service of Tesron. As it turned out, the girl was very open and friendly and gladly attached herself to Dylan. Since he was still new and had few friends, he was glad for the company.

Cindy showed Dylan to his bed. "We knew someone new was coming in when they brought in clean sheets and a new tunic," she told him. His personal belongings were sitting atop his bed and everything appeared to be present. Cindy showed him where to store them. "It's the last time anyone's going to do anything for you while you're an initiate. You'll have to do your own laundry and get your own food and everything on your own now."

"Where you from, new boy?" Roger demanded from across the room. He sat on his bed by the window mending a rip in his spare tunic.

"I grew up on a farm near the Karnal Mountains," Dylan answered cheerfully. He put up a false front of friendliness. In spite of that, though, Dylan could sense that Roger was not in a friendly mood.

Dylan had gone through the whole thing many times before. The bigger boy was looking to exert his authority and establish his dominance. Dylan had long ago learned that when facing a larger opponent it was best to back down unless he was sure that he could win in a fight. Since Roger was six years older, many pounds heavier and almost a foot taller, Dylan opted for the better part of valor.

"Leave him alone Roger," Mally interrupted. "If you start a fight, I can't study and don't think I won't tell on you."

Roger shot the girl a dark glance, but finally settled down. "Just stay out from under foot," Roger warned Dylan. "And pray that you don't get assigned to stable duty or I'll work your hands raw."

"If he grew up on a farm," Cindy came to his defense, "he could probably work circles around you and never raise a blister."

Dylan wanted to ask her to be quiet. She was only making it harder for him and Roger to make peace.

"You," he pointed excitedly to Cindy, "had better watch your mouth. I know who your task leader is and I can make things hard on you too."

"You don't have the guts to do it," Cindy goaded back. Dylan thought Roger was going to fly across the room, pick the tiny girl up and throw her against the wall, but the bully didn't leave his bed. He just sat there and glared.

"Come on, Dylan," Cindy urged as she opened the door. "I'll show you around and then we can go to the kitchens and get a snack."

Dylan followed the girl and closed the door behind them. As the door swung shut, he caught a glimpse of Roger, his face red with a tint of purple trying very hard not to show his anger.

"You sure know how to make him mad," Dylan observed to his newest friend. "I thought he was going to hit you."

"He won't dare," Cindy confided. "Roger broke the arm of our last roommate and they almost kicked him out because of it. If he so much as gives anyone a dirty look, he'll be expelled and sent home in shame."

Cindy led the way down the hall. "Has Kayla given you your work assignments yet?" she asked.

"No," Dylan answered. He noted that Cindy wore the plain tunic of a common laboring initiate. "How old is Roger?"

"He's fifteen," Cindy informed him.

"I would’ve thought that he'd be a team supervisor or at least a task leader," Dylan offered.

"I've heard that he was a task leader once, but he got caught abusing his authority. They stripped him of his green tunic and he'll never get that rank again."

"That may explain why he's so grouchy," Dylan guessed. "How much longer will he be here?"

"I don't know," Cindy answered. "If he misbehaves or if his studies slip, he may wind up leaving sooner than he'd like. He's already under probation. That means that he's been warned about his actions. If he steps out of line, he's gone."

"I don't think I’d lose sleep if he left," Dylan admitted.

"Me neither," Cindy giggled. She turned a corner and opened a door. Inside was a large room with many tables and benches. The room was sparsely populated by a small scattering of initiates eating and talking among themselves.

"This is the open dining hall," Cindy explained. "There isn't any set meal times. We eat when we're hungry. This room's open at all times and hot food’s available here," she motioned at a wide door.

Dylan followed her into the serving area where large stone tables held a variety of meats, vegetables, and breads. Cindy took a small dish and selected a fresh apple. Dylan mimicked her actions and followed her to a table pausing only long enough to fill a cup with cool water.

"I work part of my labor in the kitchens, so I can arrange to get the better selections of foods," she boasted.

"Is that allowed?" Dylan asked cautiously.

"It isn't publicly denounced or endorsed," she answered. "I'm sure that the masters are aware that it goes on, but they don't make any efforts to stop it. When you get your labor tasking, you'll find that you can get slight benefits because of it too."

"Are the kitchens the only work you do?"

"Usually," Cindy answered. "Every now and then when a member of the house keeping team gets ill or can't work, I have to temporarily work in Master Tesron's or Gage's apartment, but that doesn't happen often."

"How many of us serve Master Tesron?" Dylan asked. It seemed to him that the mage had quite a few initiates.

"There are twenty of us now that you're here." Cindy bit deeply into her snack. She quietly chewed the mouthful before continuing.

"Master Tesron has only one journeyman, and that's Gage. Gage’s actually a full journeyman, not a journeyman learner. That means he was once an apprentice of another master. I don't know who it was. But the very last stage a journeyman goes through before he can be tested for mastery is that he has to leave his original master and serve a surrogate master for a while. Master Tesron will nominate Gage for his mastery when he thinks Gage is ready."

"I like Gage," Dylan decided.

"Everybody does," Cindy agreed. "I think Gage will be a master before we finish our studies here."

"Will you study magic," Dylan asked changing the subject.

"No," Cindy answered. "I'm to be apprenticed to an alchemist when I learn my lessons."

"I'm to return to the farm as a quartermaster, like my father," Dylan offered then he finished off his fruit and drained the cup of water.

"Master Tesron has two apprentices right now," Cindy continued. "You already met Kayla. She's nice and will stick up for you if you need help. There's also Adam. He’ll stick up for you if you really get in a bind, but you have to ask him for help. He'd rather let you solve your own problems."

"Will I meet him soon?"

"Maybe," she answered. "I’ve only met him once. He spends a lot of time in the laboratory. He's working on his spell and trying to qualify to test for his journeyman status."

"All the rest of us are initiates?"

"That's right." Cindy drained her cup and gathered her dishes. "Our manager is Robert. He wears a red tunic. You'll probably meet him about once or twice a week. If you're awarded a green or yellow tunic, you'll see him more often."

"What’s the color mean? Gage mentioned it before, but I didn't really understand too well."

"We’re assigned to perform a given chore. For example, one of my tasks is to assist in the baking of bread. There are three of us who do that. Frank, who's the same rank as we are, and Joan, who’s twelve and wears the green tunic. Joan knows all about baking bread. She’s our task leader. It's her job to make sure that the bread's done right and that there's enough of it for everyone to eat. She also has to teach Frank and I how to bake so that we can take her place when she moves on.

Stanley’s her boss. He's the yellow tunic initiate in charge of the whole kitchen. He's seventeen, and an initiate of Master Ginther, the sorcerer."

Cindy placed her dishes on another table that contained several other pieces of food stained china. Dylan did likewise and watched as a fat and unkept initiate approached the table with a cart. As Dylan and Cindy left, the fat initiate began loading the dirty dished onto his cart.

"That's Cody," Cindy whispered. "He's one of ours, but he might not be here for very much longer. He’s gotten lazy and Master Tesron isn't very happy with his work."

She leaned close. "You can always tell when you’re about to get into trouble when they put you to doing jobs like garbage or cleaning out stables or washing dishes."

Dylan followed Cindy back towards their room. She paused near a set of doors. "These are the changing rooms," she told him. "You bathe, relieve yourself, and change your clothes in here," she pointed at one door then another. "The girls do the same thing over there."

"When and where do we study?"

"I think that you'll study with me," Cindy guessed. "Most of us work in groups of two and three. But for the last three weeks, Kayla and I have been working alone."

"What happened to your classmate?"

"He had to leave," Cindy answered. "His mother died and his father needed him to help care for his brothers and sisters."

Cindy led them back to their room. Dylan was apprehensive about facing Roger again, but when they entered, only Mally was there, and she was asleep.

"Mally likes to take a nap in the early afternoon," Cindy whispered. "She's a nice person, so let's try not to wake her." Cindy turned and left with Dylan in tow. "I like Mally, and I don't think she'd try to get us into trouble, but don't trust Roger."

"Why would he try to get us in trouble?"

"Because we don't have the same master. You see, there are some rules around here that aren't written down or anything. You just have to learn about them. The first rule is that you only trust initiates that belong to your master." She took one of the free ends of the rope at her waist. "Do you see how there are two knots on the left side and three on the right?"

Dylan nodded examining his own rope. He had noticed the knots that had been tied in it, but had never considered that they may have meaning.

"All of Master Tesron's students have the same knot pattern. Don't change it," she warned. "Because, even though there aren't any rules about it, if you copied another master's pattern, his initiates would likely beat you up, and everyone would look the other way while they did it."

"I have seen some initiates that don't have any knots in their ropes. Does that mean that they don't have a master?" Dylan asked.

"No," Cindy answered. "They are like Mally. They're initiates of magic. They think that they are above everyone else because they are here to learn magic. So they don't wear any knots and they keep to themselves." She straightened her tunic. "Don't worry about them. Most of the time they won't even acknowledge that you exist, much less harass you. Even Mally will ignore you outside of the room."

Dylan nodded. There was a lot to learn.

Cindy led him out to the central garden. There were many benches and pathways along side the cultivated flowers and shrubbery.

"If you just got out of the Ritual of Meditation, you may not know what day this is," Cindy commented. "I remember that when I came out, I'd lost track myself. But I've noticed that they always bring initiates out of the ritual on the day of the sun. That's the day that we only do what work we have to do and no studying. It’s supposed to give us time for hobbies and rest."

"Tomorrow's the first day of the week and the day of the greater moon. When the sun rises, I’ll have to leave the room to begin my chores. About noon, I'll go to class." She scratched her head. The tawny hair had not been combed. "I suppose that since tomorrow's your first day, you'll have to wait until someone comes to get you and take you to work. It'll probably be Robert. He likes to meet new people and take them to their first day of chores. He'll also probably escort you back to the room when you're done so that you can get cleaned up. Then Kayla or Gage will come and get you."

"I like Kayla and Gage," Dylan offered. He knew it wasn't necessary to say it, but he had just spent several weeks not talking and he was caught between the urge to talk and the desire to remain silent, which he had gotten used to.

Cindy showed Dylan a great deal of the Academy, and even part of the Guild Hall and Archives. Dylan would like to have gone out into the town, but by the time they emerged from the Archives, the sun was sinking low and their stomachs growled with complaint. So they retreated to the dining hall and ate their fill of bread and meat.

"They'll let you eat as much as you like, but if you take too much and don't finish it, the task leader in charge of the scullery will probably drag you in to help wash dishes." Cindy grimaced. Obviously she had been exposed to that experience first hand.

After eating they returned to the room. No one was there, so they sat on their cots and talked. Dylan learned a fair amount about Cindy. Her father was an alchemist and her mother was a midwife. She came from a village between Allentown and Seron, and had two little brothers.

It was well after sunset and the small lamp that sat on a table by the door cast eerie shadows throughout the room. Both Cindy and Dylan had grown quiet and snoozed on the edge of deep sleep when Mally entered the room. She spoke not a word, but went straight to her cot and lay down preparing to sleep. Dylan dozed off not long afterward and never heard Roger come in.