by Nick McNeil
“Son, we don’t have much time, but I’ll give you a piece of advice before you go. It isn’t always so bad being underestimated. Any other year, you would have been the greatest entrant since Cordelia herself.” Edfrid twiddled his thumbs. “There is something I haven’t been completely honest about.” Bertly noticed sweat forming on his father’s forehead, a sign of nervousness that was very rare for the warden of Stonebank.
“Yes?” Bertly asked hesitantly.
“You may find that some folk take notice of you once you leave Stonebank,” Edfrid continued.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, as warden I have some pull around town.” Edfrid shook his head. “Anyway, I have done my best to be sure word of you and Polly has never left Stonebank. If word got out…Bertly, you will learn in time just how important you may be. Because of that, I didn’t want to take away what little childhood you’d have.”
“Your minute is up.” The driver appeared even more hurried, tapping his foot profusely. Bertly turned back to Edfrid and spoke quickly.
“I don’t understand, Father. But I will make you proud, and I will be back in eight years, once I am a master. I will bring you and all of Noskar honor.” Bertly made a fist and placed it over his heart. Before he had another chance to speak, the driver grabbed him by the arm.
The room stretched in various directions. Every source of light vanished. The world’s gravity gripped ahold of Bertly, and his body suddenly assumed the weight of a thousand pounds. The light came back almost as fast as it had been sucked away. His body mass and weight returned to normal.
Bertly’s vision was blurred, and he saw the world as though he were looking at it through a water glass. His breakfast sat heavily in his stomach. He became overwhelmingly hot. Sweat dripped from his forehead, and beads of it dotted his hairline. Bertly was certain his morning meal was ready to exit his mouth. The driver handed Bertly a bag, and without hesitation, Bertly grabbed it and filled it immediately.
“It happens to everyone their first time, kid. Don’t worry about it. You’ll see the Academy once you regain your vision. I’m running late. I have to get going,” the driver said, just a moment before disappearing.
Bertly wished he could have seen the sorcery the driver had used; however, his vision was still too impaired. A few minutes passed and Bertly’s nausea remained, as did the poor quality of his eyesight. He heard a swoosh and felt a small gust of wind that he could only guess was produced by the same source.
“You’re still here?”
Bertly blinked, but his eyes wouldn’t clear. He did recognize the driver’s voice, and he also could hear that the question was directed at him. The next words the driver spoke, however, were directed elsewhere. “Almar, can you please show young Bertly here to his quarters?”
“No problem, sir.” Almar’s voice was deep and raspy. By the sound of his speech, Bertly guessed he must have been in his seventh or eighth year. Bertly would have assumed Almar was old enough to be a master, but the driver did not address him as one.
“It happens to the best of us.” Almar laughed. “Close your eyes; they’ll adjust quicker.”
“Thank you. I appreciate the help.” Bertly stood and closed his eyes. His nausea was finally dissipating. After he’d gained his composure, he asked Almar, “What just happened to me?”
“You were shipped. Some wizards are born with the ability to send themselves anywhere in the world. The only catch is they must have already traveled there.” Almar sighed. “It is a very rare gift. Sadly, most who are capable turn to crime or never aspire to be more than chauffeurs.” He approached Bertly and placed his hands on Bertly’s shoulders and physically turned him. “Now, open your eyes.”
Before Bertly stood thirteen immense square-shaped towers that dominated the entire skyline. The structures were connected by colossal walls made from light red stone. There was not a single crack across the entire building. It looked as though it were newly constructed. Scattered randomly across the walls were a variety of windows and crenellations. A vast gate made of thick metal was the only entrance.
Luscious fields with compact structures and houses occupied the grounds outside the castle walls.
“Hard to believe she’s over ten thousand years old, isn’t it?” Almar acknowledged.
Bertly did not reply. He was captivated by the beautiful keep. Bertly had never seen a structure so large before. He calculated that it would take years to visit every room and to walk each corridor.
“Come, follow me. I will show you to your quarters.” Almar walked ahead of Bertly and up to the castle gate. “Are you ready?” Almar winked and walked directly through the metal gate. He’d needed no key or code word. Bertly was astonished. One of the most famous places in all of Pangea left its front door wide open. An arm reached out from the metal door and pulled Bertly through. Bertly jumped.
“I knew I would get you with that one.” Almar laughed. “Your room is just up these stairs. Lucky for you, you’re close to the entrance. And the dining hall is just down that corridor.” Bertly followed Almar as they strolled through the castle.
The inside was grand. The walls were decorated with large ornate paintings, and the stairs had elegantly patterned carpets covering them. The ceilings spanned nearly a dozen floors. Students rushed the halls in every direction. Everyone seemed as though they were already late to wherever they needed to be.
“I am quite excited to see your dormitory.” Almar was walking at a quick pace. Bertly’s vision had fully recovered, and he noticed pointed ears sticking out of Almar’s black hair.
“Why is that?” Bertly questioned.
Almar happily answered, “Each race has designated dormitories. This is the first time the human wing will be open in thousands of years. I think everyone is a bit excited.” Almar led Bertly up a small flight of stairs.
“Here it is.” A group of students was already waiting near the entrance. Almar stood idly and stared at Bertly. “Well, aren’t you going to open it?”
Bertly scanned the door. He looked all around the frame but was unable to find a handle. “I don’t mean to ask the obvious, but how?” Bertly made a nervous laugh and waved his hand over the spot on the door where a handle would be.
“You mean, you don’t know how to open it?” Almar gasped. The surrounding students let out a quiet giggle.
“Well, no. Do you?”
“Of course not. I’m an elf, not a human. Your people should have taught you this.”
Suddenly the door opened. Polly stood in the doorframe, wearing a radiant smile. Bertly dropped his belongings to the floor and stared at her. “Bertly, you’re finally here. It looks like it’ll be just us,” Polly shouted. “I figured out how to open the door. I can show you later. Here, let me grab your things.” Polly bustled over to Bertly and picked his bags up from the floor. “The room is just magnificent.” She hurried back into the room. Bertly let out a big sigh and followed, with Almar not far behind.
Bertly never would have guessed his room would look like this. The room had grass rather than wood—or marble—flooring, and it smelled of fresh air, as though he actually were outside. Wind gently blew across his face, and he picked up the songs of drizzle birds. At the center of the space grew a large tree with a trunk wider than most cottages. Bertly looked up to see the same light red stone ceiling that spanned the main area of the castle. He turned his head to the side, and the walls, too, were made of the same stone. They were still inside, but the room did not smell, look, or feel as though it were indoors.
“This is impossible.” Almar paced the room with his jaw wide open. “They said this wing had been blessed, but I could never have imagined to what extent.”
“Isn’t it splendid?” Polly added.
“I hate to ask, but where do we sleep?” Bertly questioned, glancing at Polly. Polly clapped her hands together and waved Bertly forward.
“This is my favorite part, follow me.” P
olly led Almar and Bertly to the tree. She placed her hand against the large trunk. After a moment, the bark on the tree split, creating an opening. Polly took her hand from the tree and the hole closed. “Now you try.”
Bertly and Almar each placed their hands against the smooth bark. Immediately the tree split around Bertly’s hand.
“Ah, it isn’t working for me. Must be a human-only thing.” Almar removed his hand from the tree. “I will let you two get settled in. If you see me at the dining hall, feel free to sit at my table. I know it can be hard to make friends on your first day.”
“Thank you for everything,” Bertly said. He was genuinely grateful to the elf. If it had not been for Almar, Bertly would have likely suffered one embarrassment after another attempting to find his lodgings. Almar stopped just short of the door to the room and turned to face Bertly and Polly once again.
“I almost forgot; if you ever need your schedule, simply stick your arm in the air and say, ‘Cordelia, reveal my schedule.’ Get used to it. You will have to learn many reveal spells over the next eight years,” Almar mocked and exited the dormitory.
The interior of the tree was lined with fluffy beds and several wardrobes. Bertly and Polly smiled at each other, dropped their belongings, and started jumping on the beds.
The two of them leaped from bed to bed. “What time is orientation?” Bertly shouted.
“Oh! I almost forgot.” Polly hopped off the bed. “It actually starts in just a few minutes. We should probably head to the dining hall.”
***
Bertly and Polly walked into the dining hall together, mesmerized by the lines of shimmering columns that lit up every inch of the room. The light was strong, but it was easy on the eyes. Floating lamps covered the walls in a warm orange glow, illuminating portraits of famous icons. A ruby-red rug split the room in half and was matched by banners that hung from the stone walls. On each side of the rug lay several wooden tables, which were occupied by young elves and dwarves.
Polly tapped Bertly on the shoulder. “Look, it’s the twins.”
Bertly peered in the direction she was pointing. The twins sat at a fully occupied table. Each was bantering back and forth while the entire group burst into laughter. Mixed within the group was Almar. He waved Bertly and Polly over once he caught a glimpse of them from across the hall.
As the two humans approached the table, Almar stood to greet and introduce them. “I am not sure if any of you have had the pleasure of meeting our human companions yet.”
“We have. That’s Polly and Bertly,” the twins said.
“You two know Orin and Orîn?” Almar asked.
“Sure do! We rode in the same carriage to the entrance exam.” Polly beamed.
“I’ll be damned, anyone who is friends with the sons of the most famous dwarf in Academy history is friends with us.” Almar gestured toward his schoolmates. The group unanimously squished themselves together, forming empty spaces for Polly and Bertly to sit in.
Bertly peered at the twins. “So, Orin—”
“Yes?” both twins interjected. Bertly considered specifying which twin he was speaking to; however, he found the situation too amusing and let the idea go.
“I hate to admit this, but I am not familiar with your father,” Bertly said. The whole group turned their heads in his direction. Bertly did his best to conceal his slight embarrassment. “You see, no one from Noskar has ever been to the Academy. Polly and I have never really heard any stories about this place. Only that a bunch of wizards with pointy hats and robes run around casting spells.” The table fell silent. Then an enormous laugh rumbled from the students. Orin and Orîn almost fell out of their seats.
With tears in his eyes, Almar chimed in, “Pointy hats. That’s really funny. Not many pointy hats around these parts. I will say—some of the Elders do, however, wear robes.”
A deep voice echoed through the room, cutting off the group’s conversation. “Cordelia’s blessing.” The students stopped speaking. At the front of the main hall stood an elf with wrinkled skin and white hair. “Welcome, first-year students, to your new home. As a reminder, this is a closed-communication campus. There will be no letters or voice bubbles until you have graduated. It will be hard at first, but we find students who are not distracted by the outside world make the best magicians. If there is an emergency, your guardians will contact the Academy and we will reach out to you.”
The old elf took a deep breath. “There are more students this year than any year prior. Soon, it will be harder than ever to gain admittance to the Mastery program.” The elf took another breath. “Incoming students, make these next eight years count. Only a quarter of you will make it into the program, but for those of you who do, you will have long and prosperous careers in magic.” The elf paused for a moment, taking yet another breath. “This year, the apprenticeship program has been altered. It no longer lasts three years; it lasts five years.”
The room filled with the chatter of students discussing the change. But Bertly needed to start from the beginning if he was to understand the elf’s words.
“What is the apprenticeship program?” Bertly questioned.
“You must serve under a master for three…um, five years before you can apply to the Mastery program. You must also complete your apprenticeship before you graduate,” Almar answered, his face red with anger. Bertly noted that the new timeframe for apprenticeship was not being well received amongst the students.
The old elf continued. “If you are on your last two years, you will not have to serve five years under a master.” The upperclassmen cheered. The remaining students booed. It did not take long before playful boos and cheers turned into arguments and whining.
“Silence.” The lights in the room flickered, and the chatter and arguments came to an abrupt halt. The elf took one more breath. “One final thing: the curfew has been lifted this year. Please do not make us reinstate it.” The entire hall roared, and students jumped to their feet.
“Curfew?” Polly questioned. She looked around the room, smiling at the excitement of her fellow schoolmates.
“No more curfew! No more rules!” the twins cried.
Almar laughed. “At the Academy, there is usually a curfew. It was only enforced because of the one-hundred-year curfew enforcement.”
“There has been a curfew for the last one hundred years?” Bertly asked.
Almar leaned forward. “It has actually been much longer. There is almost always a curfew. They are forced to constantly reinstate one because some moron does something stupid. I can guarantee the curfew will be put back in place before the end of the year.”
Bertly chuckled. “Ah, I see.”
***
“Sir, weren’t you the moron who got the curfew reinstated?” Roderick blurted out, looking up from his parchment.
Bertly rolled his eyes and glared at Roderick. “Roderick, please.” Bertly placed his knuckles against his forehead. “All I wanted to do was take it for a little ride.”
III
“Bertly, rise and shine.”
Bertly opened his eyes, and there was Polly’s glowing smile hovering over him, filling his field of vision. Bertly grunted and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
Polly was formally dressed, with her hair tied back. “Sorry to wake you, but I couldn’t let you be late to your first day of class. Have you checked your schedule yet?”
Bertly yawned. He was in no mood to speak to anyone so early in the morning, but to see Polly’s face first thing, to hear her voice before he even got out of bed—his agitation grew. He knew better than to display this irritation, however. “No, not yet. When does class start?”
Polly darted about the room, picking up her personal items and placing them back down again. “In less than twenty minutes, I think. Did you not hear the morning bells? They go off an hour before the first class.”
Bertly bolted upright and pushed his blankets to the foot of the bed. “Why didn’t
you wake me up sooner, Polly?” Bertly practically spat her name as he hustled to his wardrobe.
Polly took a step back, giving Bertly room to gather his belongings and get dressed. She shook her head. “Well, I honestly assumed you were sleeping in on purpose.” Polly raised her hand. “Cordelia, reveal Bertly’s schedule.” Polly stood still with her arm in the air, studying her empty hand, squinting as though that would bring the schedule to life on her pale skin. “Odd. It worked for me earlier.”
Bertly raised his arm. “Cordelia, reveal my schedule.” A piece of parchment appeared in Bertly’s hand. “Fascinating. It must only work for your own schedule. I wonder if all reveal spells have this limitation.” Bertly stood near his dresser and looked over his schedule.
“Bertly, we can look at your schedule while we are walking. You need to get dressed, or we’ll both be late.” Polly’s words were slightly panicked and rushed.
“What do you mean both of us? You can head off without me,” Bertly snapped.
“We can help each other get to class, of course. My first class is Magic for Humans. I am assuming we have first period together,” Polly replied without an ounce of impatience in her voice. Bertly glanced at his schedule, saw the first course listed on it, and groaned.
***
Together—as demanded by Polly—the two scrambled through the corridors and wove through the masses of students in search of room 782. The halls were packed shoulder to shoulder with red-eyed classmates. They tried to keep their balance while fast-paced dwarves bumped the backs of their legs. Every set of eyes in the castle gazed upon them.
“Who do you think is teaching the class?” Bertly yelled as he upped his pace from a speed-walk to an outright run.
“Considering we are the only red-eyed humans, probably a human history teacher. Maybe someone who has specifically studied the history of human magic, or at least the theory of it.” Polly shrugged as she ran alongside Bertly. He couldn’t help but notice that her voice was even while running. He had the urge to groan yet again at this realization.