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.