“I see.” Master Doronal stood back up, nodded to the assistant proctor and said, “Thank you, Assistant Shelton.”
At the tacit dismissal, the assistant proctor bowed his head, glanced briefly at Aeron, and left, closing the door behind him.
Master Doronal looked at Aeron a moment and asked, “Who did this to you, Aeron?”
“It was Jessip, Master Doronal.” Aeron sighed and looked down. “He’s always picked on people, but he seems to like picking on me the most. I’d been trying to just avoid him and not bother anyone about him.”
“I see. And what happened today that caused his picking on you yo escalate to physical violence?”
“It . . . it might have been partly my fault.”
“Oh?” Master Doronal returned to his desk and sat down, motioning for Aeron to take a seat at a leather chair. “Have a seat,” he said, “and explain.”
Aeron walked over and sat down. The chest, gliding silently, stopped near him. He glanced at the chest, took a breath, and began. “I was on my way to lunch, earlier, and they cornered me near the stable and the barracks. Jessip asked me what I was reading. I just knew he was going to take my primer away and do who knows what to it. And you had just given it to me!” Aeron looked up at Master Doronal. “I made some remark about how you actually needed to be able to read to have any use for a book.”
“Ah,” Master Doronal said, face placid, but with a gleam in his eyes.
“I was able to get away from them by shoving the primer in the back of my pants and climbing a water pipe up to the roof of the stable. I’m not exactly sure how I did it. It happened so fast. Anyway, then I jumped from roof to roof until I got to the Wood Craft Hall and climbed down the stairs there. I had lost them.”
“And the black eye?”
“Yes. Well, I guess he was chapped that I got away at lunch. Because later, on my way back to the dorms after dinner, they jumped me at the corner by the Glass Craft Hall. Jessip said that they had missed me all day long and were lonely but they had finally found me. They all laughed at that.”
Aeron’s eye was caught by an unusual item sitting on the desk. He stared at it as he continued. “I tried to tell him that if he didn’t stop picking on me I’d have to tell my father or someone about it. He didn’t give me a chance to finish. He punched me.”
“I see,” the magic master said. “That certainly is a clear case of breaking the rules.”
Aeron sighed and looked at his craft master. “There’s more to it.”
Master Doronal’s eyes narrowed and he said, “Alright, then. Tell me the rest.”
Aeron sighed again. His eye kept being drawn by the various things on the desk and on the shelves behind Master Doronal. “Jessip wanted to see the book again. They had me surrounded on the sides and behind. I figured if I could do something to distract Jessip, who was in front of me, I could maybe somehow slip past him and make a run for the dorms. At that point I wasn’t quite thinking clearly. I was just trying anything that came to mind.”
Aeron pulled out his primer and looked up at Master Doronal, showing how he had held the small leather book for Jessip. “I let him see my primer and asked him if he could read the title on the spine. He got angry again and reached over for the primer. That’s when I shoved it at his face as hard as I could.” Aeron paused and placed the primer on the desk. “I broke his nose.”
Master Doronal raised his eyebrows.
Aeron looked at his hands. “There was blood on his face and his shirt and he fainted when he saw it. That’s when I ran for the dorms. And when I got there Proctor Jarvis saw my eye and asked me about it. I told him about the fight by the Glass Craft Hall and he ran off to see about Jessip.”
Master Doronal leaned back in his chair, tented his fingers and said, “I am going to leave this matter in Proctor Jarvis’ hands because it occurred while you were under his care. However, I must say that the broken nose sounds like self-defense to me. But again, it is up to Proctor Jarvis.”
Aeron nodded. He felt terrible. He didn’t want to look bad in Master Doronal’s eyes. But at least he was telling the truth. He felt it was important to do so.
“You no doubt have questions about why you are here.” Master Doronal stood up and walked over to Aeron. “And after that story, which we will not discuss further tonight, I am sure you won’t mind that I am taking you away from the dormitories.”
So, thought Aeron, it was Master Doronal who arranged the move?
“It seemed from the work we did today and the conversations we have had in the past that you are going to ask to apprentice with the Magic Craft Hall anyway, so I informed Lord Baronel that I would like you to be moved to the hall a little early. Normally the option is only open to people who have at least been accepted as apprentices. But I thought that we could make a short-term exception for you. After all, this will allow you to focus even more on your work with magic. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Oh no, not at all!”
“Good. Let’s get you moved in then, shall we?”
Master Doronal lead Aeron down the hallway outside his office and farther into the caverns. Not too far along they took a side hallway that soon enough doubled in width. In this wider section there were several doors on both sides, spaced quite a bit apart.
“And here are the rooms,” he said. “Mine is the first one here on the left. Adept Millinith is first on the right, though I don’t believe you two have met. She’s away on Caer business. And let’s see, Adept Louis is second on the left, and, you know Journeyman Samuel, he’s fourth on the right. As you will note, the occupant’s name is on the door of each of the rooms. At any rate, you’re seventh on the left.” Master Doronal walked down to Aeron’s room, opened the door, and stepped inside.
“That hallway sure is long,” Aeron said as he entered, the chest gliding in after him.
“Yes. Believe it or not, this part of the hallway was originally one enormous low room, or cavern, before it was enchanted into separate rooms. As you can see,” he gestured around the apartment, “the rooms are a decent size, though not palatial by any means.”
Aeron looked around the room. In the back left corner was a bed with a side table. There were shelves above the headboard. And in the back right stood a desk and chair. Just inside the door on the right there was a workbench. And across the room from the workbench, to Aeron’s left, were two big chairs and two bookcases. In the middle of the left wall, just past a bookcase, was a large wardrobe. A matching wardrobe was opposite on the right side of the room, past the workbench.
“Oh. I don’t think I should be here.”
“Disappointed?” Master Doronal asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, no. I just . . . that is, I’ve never had my own room since my father and I had to leave our home.” Aeron turned to Master Doronal, a concerned look on his face. “Are you sure this whole room is for me?”
Master Doronal laughed. “Aeron, this ‘whole room,’ as you say, is indeed for you.”
Aeron was amazed. He felt like he was in some fancy inn. He walked to the back of the room and sat on the bed, overwhelmed. The chest drifted lazily to a stop in front of him.
“Now then,” Master Doronal said, “there are no dining facilities here, so you will still need to partake of the Dining Hall, though there are bathing and toilet facilities farther down at the end of the hallway. Also, you are back on chore duties tomorrow morning, but I have had the chore roster modified so that your afternoons are now with me for training.” He paused, looked at Aeron, and said, “And I would recommend getting a nice satchel to carry things in, like supplies and books and such. Satchels make for better carry-alls than the back of your pants, yes?” He lifted an eyebrow at Aeron who smiled ruefully.
“Because you are not yet an apprentice and thus have not had an opportunity to earn any marks . . .” Master Doronal dug around in his pockets until he finally found what he was looking for. “Ah, here it is. Take this twenty mark and see about getting on
e. If you are a good haggler, and I do not doubt that you are, you should have plenty enough left over for other supplies and what-not. A trade caravan will be here in a few weeks, so it would do you well to have some spare marks.”
Aeron stared at the mark in his hand. It was a flat oval with rounded edges, about the size of a rather large pumpkin seed, cut out of a purple crystal. The number twenty was etched on both sides and gave off a faint blue glow.
He clutched it in his fist. “Twenty marks?” he asked and looked up at Master Doronal.
“Sure, why not?”
“I . . . I don’t know what to . . .” He gulped and, with a fierce look on his face, said, “Thank you, sir. I will get a great satchel, as you said. And I will have something left over!” The last he said with an impish smile.
Master Doronal laughed. “Scamp. Well then, get yourself settled. Don’t forget to do those magic exercises we talked about, and I’ll see you in the morning after breakfast.” He paused, staring at Aeron’s cheek. “Actually, I want you to stop in at the infirmary first thing after breakfast and get some cream for your cheek, then see me in my office before chores.” With that he left the room, closing the door behind him.
Aeron sighed. He touched his cheek gingerly and winced. It was still painful. What was he going to tell Willem and Sharrah?
He looked at the mark piece sitting in his palm. A slow smile spread across his face. Twenty marks! He’d never had this much money. He certainly would not have dared ask his father for money. He stuffed the mark in his pocket.
And this room, he thought. Just look at it! He had an actual bed! He ran his hands over the soft comforter and then looked around at all the furnishings, still in awe.
Aeron pinched himself. Ouch! Nope, not dreaming!
The chest was still floating in front of him. “I guess you belong to me now too?” Master Doronal hadn’t mentioned anything about returning the chest and neither had Assistant Shelton, though he hadn’t said much at all.
The chest bobbed in the air.
Aeron narrowed his eyes. “Did you understand what I asked you?”
The chest floated serenely, unmoving.
“Ow!” Jessip yelled as he sat on the edge of a bed in the infirmary.
He was being tended to by a nurse, while Proctor Jarvis stood to the side, a stern look on his face. Though the nurse packing his left nostril with gauze was painful, it didn’t hurt as much as when she had straightened his nose. Tears had involuntarily sprung up in his eyes then.
Afterward, Nurse Heather said, “I’m sorry, young man, but it is going to be very tender for several days.” As she carefully cleaned the dried blood from his face, she said, “Return in two days, and we’ll see how it’s going. Do not attempt to remove the gauze yourself! Remember to sleep with your head elevated. Maybe you can scrunch up your pillow a little taller. And be sure to take one of those pills I gave you every three hours as needed for pain. If you run out, you can come back to me for more.”
She stood, nodded to Proctor Jarvis and left the room.
Proctor Jarvis walked to the window and stared outside. The sun was just set, the light rapidly fading. He could see one of the light crew walking down the street shifting the shutters on the street lamps from the bottom to the top. During the day, all the street lamps had their reflective shutters shifted to the bottom to allow sunlight to recharge the large lightglobes inside. In the evening, the shutters were shifted to the top so the light from the charged globes was reflected down onto the street. This kept the street lamps fully charged everyday and, at least until their lightglobes could no longer be recharged, producing the same consistent light.
Without turning around, Proctor Jarvis began to speak. “It must have come as a bit of a shock, having your nose broken. After all, who would expect Aeron to do something like that? Although, after the rooftop escapade earlier today, perhaps he just wasn’t feeling up to it again this evening?”
Jessip’s eyes widened, but he regained his composure quickly and sneered. “Is that what the runt told you? He’s a liar.”
“Actually, the guard at the southwest tower told me about the rooftop adventure. He had just left the barracks earlier today on his way to lunch when he saw Aeron being confronted by you and your friends. He was about to intervene when Aeron somehow managed to scramble up onto the roofs. It must have been very annoying to have Aeron get away from you like that.” Proctor Jarvis turned to Jessip, a small smile on his lips.
Jessip lifted the corner of his mouth in a half-smile.
Proctor Jarvis’ expression hardened. “The guard also confirmed the story Aeron told me about what transpired in front of the Glass Craft Hall.”
Jessip’s expression went blank.
“When I arrived, you were still unconscious, but you seemed to be fine other than your nose. Only one of your friends was still around, Renny, so I sent him to the infirmary for assistance. Master Ondont, who had come out of the Glass Craft Hall with several other people, agreed to watch over you until the nurse arrived. Meanwhile, I went to the southwest tower to see whether the guard there had seen what had transpired in the street below. By happy coincidence, he had, and he also told me about what had happened earlier in the day as well. Afterward, I went to check my records before making my way here.”
Proctor Jarvis glanced out the window a moment, sighed, and then turned his gaze on Jessip. “If you hadn’t punched Aeron in the face . . .” He paused, appeared to change his mind about what he had been about to say, and instead continued with, “I probably would never have found out about either incident. But when I saw Aeron’s black eye and bruised cheek, I made him tell me who had done it.”
He glanced at Jessip’s bandaged nose and said, “Let’s have a walk, shall we?” As he left the room he added, “Don’t forget the pills Nurse Heather gave you.”
“Yrdra’s ice-cold tits,” Jessip muttered to himself after Proctor Jarvis had left the room. This was ridiculous, he thought. That sorry runt had a dragon’s own luck! He grabbed the small cloth bag, which contained the pain pills, and headed out of the room to where the dormitory proctor was waiting for him.
Proctor Jarvis spoke as they walked down the hallway. “As you know, fighting is against the rules. And punching someone?” He shook his head. “Alas, this means you are now on probation.”
They walked in silence for a few moments, and then Jessip asked, “What’s that mean?”
“It means you are on very thin ice. I am transferring you to General Staff.”
Jessip stopped and stood in the hallway, stunned.
“It was my only option left. I keep tabs on all in my care and you . . .” Proctor Jarvis noticed that Jessip was no longer walking with him. He stopped, turned, and looked at Jessip. “You have failed to excel at any of the craft halls you have attempted. And reports from all the halls are very similar: lack of respect for authority, does not work well with others, fails to complete all assigned tasks on time, fails to consistently show up on time.”
The dormitory proctor placed his fists on his hips, a forlorn expression on his face. “You must stop your immature behavior, the bullying, the just plain meanness. And you must perform well at whatever task they assign you.” He motioned for Jessip to follow and said, “Come.” He then headed out of the building.
Jessip was shocked. General Staff? Because of the runt? He quickly followed Proctor Jarvis outside. There was a horse cart stopped the street.
Gesturing to the cart, Proctor Jarvis said, “I took the liberty of having Becket here pack your things into a trunk. It is in the back of the wagon, so you will not need to stop at the dormitories.”
Beckett was the handyman and all-around gofer for the Dormitory Hall. His five foot ten frame looked even taller sitting up on the seat of the cart. Jessip looked up at him and Becket nodded.
Proctor Jarvis gave Jessip a concerned look and said, “Heed my words, lad. You must decide what you want to do with your life, find what it is you truly want. I do
hope that you find it soon.” He took a breath and straightened his shoulders. “Remember: work hard and well.” And with that, he headed up the road back to the dormitories.
Jessip watched him leave. He couldn’t believe it. General Staff? He wanted to be a guard! They got to tell everyone what to do. That runt was ruining everything.
“Come on then, I don’t have all night,” Becket said quietly. “Grab your trunk and let’s go.” He hopped down from the driver’s seat.
Jessip glared at the man. He thought to spit out some retort, but instead, he sighed and walked to the end of the cart. He lifted the trunk and grunted. It was a little heavy, and the strain made his nose pound even more.
Becket started to walk up the street, and Jessip fell in beside him. It took less than a minute to reach the south door to the Housing Hall. The Housing Hall was where people in General Staff were housed as well as families and adults in a craft that had no living quarters at its craft hall. It abutted the infirmary, and at four stories tall, along with Lord Baronel’s quarters, was the tallest structure in the Caer, aside from the tank at the Water Hall. General Staff members were housed in the southern part of the hall.
Becket opened the door and held it for Jessip, who nearly stumbled on the threshold. “Careful, lad,” he said.
Hurrying along the hallway toward them was a short, squat man, clipboard in hand. “Jessip?” he asked, an expectant look on his face.
“The very one,” Jessip said, flippantly.
Becket elbowed him and gave him a stern look.
Irritation flashed briefly across Jessip’s face before he said, “Yes, sir. I’m Jessip.”
The short man glanced at Becket, raised an eyebrow, and said, “Indeed.” He looked back at Jessip. “I’m Assistant Proctor Alden. This way, please.” He turned and headed back down the hallway.
Becket and Jessip followed.
“Your life here will be a pleasant and enjoyable one if you follow a few simple rules,” Assistant Proctor Alden said as he walked along. “They are all included on this list,” he indicated a small piece of parchment on his clipboard, “which I will give you once we get to your room.”
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