by Marie Brown
Chapter 3
Janos and Lydia set out two days later, with Meeplar bounding alongside. They followed the well-worn path out of the village towards the nearest big city, Caissa, almost a week away on foot. Lydia talked to her brother a lot about the necessity of training her newfound abilities, but still remained reluctant to give up her beloved baking. Danno had given her a parting gift, a recipe book of his own making, and she carried it in her pocket, rubbing its leather binding frequently.
The journey ended before Lydia was ready for it to end. She and her brother both gawked at the beautiful, enormous city like the country bumpkins they suddenly felt like, but managed to make their way to the biggest, grandest structure of them all: the Hall of Lights. It reared above them, gleaming in the afternoon sunlight, with majestic pillars and white marble. Lydia felt very, very small, walking into that imposing edifice, and very grubby as well.
She'd never seen anything so grand before, or so terrifying. Walking through the immense reception hall, Lydia trembled with a wave of homesickness so strong that little Meeplar actually cried out. She wanted Danno's bakery! Or her mother's kitchen, even! Anywhere but this cold, sterile, viciously imposing environment.
“Do I have to do this, Janos?” Lydia said, clinging to her brother's hand for reassurance.
“So everybody says, little bug,” he said, but didn't sound certain enough to ease her fears.
“Can I help you?”
A woman in a silver dress stepped out of a little alcove. Lydia finally noticed that the place wasn't completely sterile. Potted plants grew at intervals along the walls, in little alcoves, even a few scattered throughout the hall. They looked green, vibrant, healthy. They made her feel a tiny bit better.
“We're here to find training for my sister,” Janos spoke up, direct as always. “Who would we talk to?”
The woman smiled. “I see you have a familiar already, young lady. Why don't you come with me and we'll go speak to the headwoman?”
“I'm coming too,” Janos said, and Lydia squeezed his hand. She'd never loved him more than that moment.
“Very well,” the woman said, without batting an eyelash. “Come with me.”
She led the way through the immense entryway and into a far more welcoming courtyard. Trees bent over pathways through vigorous gardens. Flowers hung in baskets in arches lining the rectangular walkway around the central courtyard. Lydia felt a lot better out of that stark marble environment. They walked around the outer border of the courtyard and the woman turned into a door.
“Clariss?” she called as she entered. “Clariss, are you in?”
“Just a moment,” a voice called from through a doorway. Meeplar let out a cheery sound. Lydia got the impression that she approved. “Yes, Sella? What can I do for you?”
The owner of the voice entered the front room, a sort of office. Meeplar made another cheery sound. The woman was short, and plump, and had a voice like an angel. Her face wore an expression of utter serenity and polite curiosity.
“We've got new arrivals. These two just arrived, a prospective student and her escort. Can you take care of them?”
“I can,” Clariss nodded. “You may return to the Grand Hall.”
She smiled. Sella gave a sort of half-bow and left. Meeplar peeped.
“Welcome to the Hall of Lights,” Clariss said.
“What are you going to do with my sister?” Janos demanded.
“That depends,” the headwoman replied. “May I ask what your name is, child?”
“I'm Lydia,” she replied, shyly. “And. . . this is Meeplar.”
“How do you do, Lydia? Meeplar? Did you have a pleasant trip?”
“My brother Janos took care of us,” Lydia replied. “It wasn't a bad journey.”
“Thank you, Janos, for caring for your sister. Now, you asked what we will do with her. Let us all sit down and find out. Do you wish to be a mage, child?”
“No,” Lydia blurted, without thought. “I'm a baker's apprentice, not a mage.”
“But you have a fuzzling, a familiar. These beings only attach themselves to people with mage talents.”
“I may have those talents, but I don't want them! I want to be a baker! That's all I want to do with my life. I didn't ask for Meeplar, she just appeared one day and wouldn't go away.”
“Lydia, this is a very serious matter,” Clariss said, indicating chairs positioned for guests at her desk. She settled down on the opposite side. “Do you understand what will happen if you leave mage talents untrained?”
Lydia nodded miserably. “Things happen,” she confessed, “already. I almost set fire to the bakery. And they say I will go mad. Not just a maybe, but definitely. And they also said before I go mad I could be stolen away by an evil mage and sucked clean of all my mind and will. I don't want any of that stuff to happen. But I want to be a baker, not a mage.”
“What if I offer you a compromise, Lydia? You are old enough now to know what you want from life, if you were an apprentice. What if you stay here, with us, long enough to learn how to control your power and keep yourself sane and protected? Then, after you are safe, you can reevaluate your choice. You may change your mind. But we would be terribly remiss in our duty if we let you go away completely untrained. Especially, might I add, since one or more of our Clusters might wind up facing you if you were taken by an evil one.”
“I think I can do that,” Lydia said, brightening. “Janos, did you hear? She's not going to make me be a mage if I don't want to!”
“Yes, little bug, I heard. I'm happy for you. I think that means you'll do fine here.”