by P. S. Power
Counselor
( The young ancients - 5 )
P. S. Power
P. S. Power
Counselor
Chapter One
The knock on the door was startling being unexpected, and made Tor feel stupid when he jumped up as if he'd been caught doing something wrong. It was an old habit, one that fit perfectly with the space he was in. His old school dorm room.
Tor's wasn't sure, but it seemed like it had been left unoccupied in the year he'd taken off from school, almost two years now really, which made everything that had happened in his life seem just that much more unreal. Silly even.
Someone had cleaned it, but the beds were the same, and no new scents added at all except a slight hint of stale dust and possibly a little mildew.
When the door opened he found himself facing an old man, upright of carriage and lean, but with a friendly smile on his face. Kyle Hardgrove, the Dean of Lairdgren School. It wasn't really a shock, once Tor thought about it for a second, since he'd asked to meet with the man about his living situation. It was just that he'd only left the note at his office a few hours before. In a situation like this, a student simply requesting a meeting, Tor had expected to be put off for days, maybe longer on the topic. Then summoned to the office, if the Dean had time for the issue at all. It wasn't like the man had to hop to some kids whims, right?
“Dean Hardgrove!” Tor tried to make his voice sound happy to see him, which wasn't too far off; the man was always kind to him after all. Always a lot easier to like gentle people than not. “Come in, please.”
The Dean looked around the room, and Tor understood immediately what was going on, the old pale eyes searched for clues, noted that nothing had been unpacked yet and that Tor had simply been sitting on the edge of his old school bed, not doing anything. The imprint of his backside still rumpled the drab tan bedspread. They exchanged bows, his going lower than his visitors, because the school was his place and he was, in a very real way, the King here. Or at least the Captain, kind of like on a sea vessel. Either way he outranked Tor in just about every way imaginable. Tor offered the corner of his bed to sit on and sat himself down on the hardwood floor, making his head incredibly low by comparison.
“Tor. So, is there some problem? I notice you haven't settled yet…” The open handed gesture used took in the whole room, which obviously hadn't been touched. Still the man had bothered to observe the fact, which said a lot about him, didn't it?
Not everyone looked all the time. Tor knew he didn't see everything himself. He missed most things in fact.
“Um,” Tor said brilliantly, his face going red before a single sentence could be gotten out. Wonderful. Maybe he could impress the man into giving him what he wanted by stammering him into submission?
“I'd kind of hoped to live off campus this year. I rented the lot next to the student store and put up a house already, but when we got here Ali and I, were told we had to live in the dorms? I… we're married… Is that right?” The words weren't very smooth, since Tor thought the idea of living away from his brand new wife was silly, but he didn't want to fight about it, just see if it could be fixed.
If he'd learned anything in the last year it was that going around starting fights almost never actually helped anything. Normally it just caused you to end up having to apologize later, knocking your head against the floor and hoping no one hit you too much.
Hardgrove smiled gently, an old man’s smile that indicated that from his lofty station of years he could see things a youthful looking eighteen year old couldn't. Probably true, but not exactly the place Tor wanted to start from.
“That's right. Students at Lairdgren have to live in the dorms, and before you ask, no, you and your wife can't share a room. This school has been here for a while, so the rules are pretty well set. If we start letting the wealthy, famous, or even the married, live on their own and do their own thing, then we end up with everyone else thinking they should be allowed to as well. It's happened before, and caused massive problems, so this isn't just some rule being enforced because “it's always been that way” or anything foolish like that.” The man shrugged and put both hands on the bed to push himself up, readying to stand.
“I don't want to be mean, but the tradition is that way for a reason. I hope you'll understand? Now, if you wish to use your own lodgings on your off days, or even after classes, you may, but you're required to sleep in your room on any regular school day. I know that I won't have a problem with you personally, but for those with you, please remind them that failure to do so means expulsion. It's a bit harsh, I know, but with noble children and young adults, we've found that fines just don't work for some reason. They eventually start to look at them as mere rent on poor behaviors.” The expression on the weathered face went wry then, telling him that to a lot of the students there, a few silver or gold coins just didn't mean that much all the time.
Tor looked down, feeling ridiculously young again suddenly. Not that he was old, but coming back as a fourth year student was harder than he'd thought it would be. Of course having taken a seat on the floor probably wasn't all that brilliant a move either. His behind hurt now and getting up would look awkward. Well, at least he wore regular school browns, heavy canvas that was both durable and about as un-stylish as you could get. By doing so it didn’t look like he was flaunting wealth or anything. At least it looked that way on the surface. It was really just a magical device that he'd made that approximated clothing and let the wearer pick what they wanted to have on with an incredible range.
This was school though and the students here wore brown.
Heaving a soft sight he stood, trying not to look half crippled, and shook his head a bit.
“Well, if its tradition there isn't a lot we can do about it. I don't want to make trouble, I was just hoping there might be a loophole for married couples or something like that. I could have missed it, since that's not really all that normal here.”
The Dean gave him a hand up, useless since Tor was standing already by the time it came, and clapped him on the shoulder, not hard enough to make the shield Tor wore turn on and stop his gesture but enough that the movement seemed real. The man smiled at him as if he'd said something particularly intelligent.
“Ah, Mr. Baker… It's always so refreshing to talk to you, do you know that? I have this same conversation ten times a year, some Count’s child that thinks the rules shouldn't apply to them personally or someone that has any of a hundred good reasons that make perfect sense to them and believes they should be the exception to the rule. You know, almost every one of them gets angry and tries to pull rank rather than just simply asking if there's a way. There isn't, but it's always nice to get out of a room without being screamed at.”
That earned a soft chuckle from Tor. What was he going to do? Blast the man through the wall for not giving him what he wanted? If it was a rule, it was a rule. Tor said this, his voice innocent enough he thought. The Dean patted him on the back again.
“Well, everyone on campus probably expects you to get special privileges, being the only Master Builder we've ever had as a student here. Even the Instructors are a little nervous. Don't worry though, I told them to just pile on the extra work and make certain you really earn your grades. Obviously we'll give you a bit of slack because of the war, and your efforts towards that, but otherwise don't expect the same cushy treatment you got before. The expectations on a master of anything are automatically higher. Even when studying another field of endeavor.” A smile came with the words at least. It was hard to see behind the long gray beard that went halfway down the black and green velvet tunic, but it was there.
Swallowing a little nervously Tor nodded. He knew that the whole timid look didn't really fit him very well
, since he only looked about fourteen still and being shorter than almost everyone at the school they tended to think of him as younger than that at times. He was eighteen though and should act his age, of course. He straightened and tried to look more confident, after all, he was a Knight now and had to at least not act like a coward when he could help it.
The Dean exchanged small talk for a bit, discussed the school term that would start in a few days and what classes he had scheduled. Some of them were totally new to him, like economics and music. He still had combat training in the afternoon, only now he was considered a full senior student, based more on life experience than actual skill, he figured. That meant that if he missed a class he'd really be in for it. The punishment before had been scolding and extra lessons. Now it was probably that plus a real beating or two. Sure, disguised as “practice” instead of a whipping, to let him save face, but that just meant you got hit with much heavier tools in the end. Some of the instructors could probably cripple a man with a practice sword. Not that he knew who was teaching here now.
In the morning there was meditation and advanced build theory. That class in particular sounded exciting, since it was actually in his main area of study. In the last year he'd done a lot of building, making magic and copying magical devices, but, while it was kind of the Dean to call him a master, that wasn't true. He had so much to learn still. So very much. Even if it was one of the investigative classes, meaning he had to figure things out for himself more or less, just having the time to do it and some suggestions as to what to look into was more than worth coming back to school for.
That and the fact that his wife was here.
Sure, Alissa was only fourteen, and hadn't had a lot of education in the last three years, unless you counted being a runaway and falling in with a gang of girls thieves that sometimes sold her to men on the street for a lark as a learning experience. It didn't help with reading and writing much, Tor had discovered, so they'd spent the last month trying to get her up to speed that way. Rolph, his school roommate, had helped them both brush up on math as well. It had been really nice of him, since as heir to the kingdom, he could have just gotten someone else to do it and called it good, instead of taking time each day with them himself.
But then, Rolph was a good friend.
Well, the room situation wasn't the greatest, but they'd manage. He'd just have to see her in the evenings and his off days. Of course he was already expected to spend most of his non-study time working, if only by himself, copy work for the kingdom, his retail business partners and any assignments he got from the King. That had been hinted at when he'd left the Capital for some reason, but Tor didn't really get why. What could he do that someone else couldn't do better? Still, that was his job being a Knight, and some of the things coming up were going to be downright freaky.
Like going to Austra, pretending to marry a completely insane girl so that her mentally unhinged father would let his guard down and he and his grandfather, Count Lairdgren, could rescue their brother from a cell under the man’s palace.
That “brother” part was tricky to explain, so Tor just summed it up for himself for the fiftieth time and hoped he didn't have to explain it too real people too often. Lairdgren was an Ancient, Denno Brown was his brother, made from the same basic materials, some three thousand years before, and Tor was a nearly exact copy of his grandfather, only eighteen, not thousands of years old.
Tor grinned and did some math, in two days he'd be nineteen. On the first day of term this year. Now all he had to do was subtly remind someone and maybe he'd get a cake out of it. Last year it had been totally forgotten until over a month later. Not that cake was that hard to come by, he could make one himself after all, but it was the thought that counted.
Shrugging he set up his trunks and decided what was staying in his room here and what could go over to the house that he and Alissa had set up earlier, a decently large three story affair that looked nice on the outside, but not out of keeping with the schools buildings in color or shape. It was fantastic inside, most of the rooms based on what the inside of the King’s palace looked like. They'd altered some of the colors and at times made changes to the decorations, but that was the neat part of having a magical dwelling, you were never really stuck with just one thing. Plus it was free, except the land rent, and he had that for two years, already paid in full. It had made sense at the time, but now it seemed a mistake, since they couldn't really use it. Well, oops? Tor chuckled to himself. He could always store visitors in there after all. Let's his friends use it for parties or something maybe?
At least Ali was only two floors down, on the ground level and six doors to the right of his. Her roommate wasn't there yet, which he knew made her a little nervous, but at least she'd know some of the people here. Tor remembered how scared he'd been when he was new, until Rolph started looking out for him. Ali had him and Rolph though, and probably a few other people if Tor guessed right. No one had flown in with them, but the Prince would be in later that night, unless a real emergency came up. Plus some of the Royal Guard and probably some of the spies they were used to seeing around as well. That part of being a noble was just plain odd to him. Spies were everywhere. Even watching him. That anyone would bother just boggled the mind.
Well, always good to see a familiar face, right?
After he got unpacked, or more to the point, shifted his trunks around a little, Tor decided to go and see how Ali was faring, not knowing if he should expect tears, disappointment, or simply nerves. The answer was none of those. After he knocked politely on the door, he heard giggling and then, a moment later a male voice that sounded vaguely familiar called out.
“Just a moment please.”
It took closer to two moments before the door opened and both the people inside, his new wife and Ridley Dens, who was the oldest son of a Baron, and something of a friend of his, hadn't exactly gotten their clothing all the way back in place. Alissa sat on the bed still heaving a little and gave Tor a warm smile, waving him into the small space. Ridley step to the side to let him in.
“Tor! Um, not to be indiscreet, but we were just about to have sex.” The young man who was only about a year older than Tor, but actually looked it, said without being either defensive or scared about just blurting out something like that.
That, Tor knew, was a royal thing, a noble thing he corrected, trying to drop his country habit of calling anyone over a certain size “royal”. It was a thing of their society that people had a lot of friends and lovers. Ridley was good looking, fit, and had black hair not too different in color than Tor's really. The eyes were blue, not brown, but so were Alissa's, so if he got her pregnant, that could be written off well enough. Not that Tor really wanted a child yet, but since he couldn't get her pregnant, Ridley wouldn't be a bad match if they ever did want one.
Well, Tor wouldn't be able to for the first five hundred years of his life or so, which really meant the same thing when you got down to it. If Tor was going to have a child with Ali, it wouldn't be his. Tor shrugged and tried to grin a little, hoping it was kind looking. Understanding and didn't seem too jealous.
Ridley smiled at him warmly, it was a friendly thing. Inclusive.
“Would you like to join us?”
Tor blinked.
This, he decided almost instantly, was one of those situations where his backwoods upbringing was going to fail him horribly if he wasn't careful. Half of him wanted to hit Ridley for even trying something with his wife, though by their cultural training what they were doing was normal. Inviting him was even incredibly polite and understanding on Ridley's part really, if Tor was finally getting the rules for this kind of thing. It meant the other boy was basically announcing them true friends.
The other half of him wanted to run away, possibly screaming and maybe, just maybe, defensively wetting himself. Deep inside his personal battle cry rang out. Run away!
Instead, possibly showing how stupid he really was, Tor froze and blinked a little.
He was so not ready to have sex with a woman while another man participated. It was hard enough if someone else was just watching for goodness sake. But how did he say that without seeming rude or mean? Tor took a breath and decided to just start speaking.
“Um, well, that's a very kind offer. Thank you. Could I get with you on that later though? I really just came to check on Ali, then I have to get some work done before dinner. First almost real day back you know.” That, he hoped, would be nice enough. By the noble standards he'd been told that he came across as aloof or even stuck-up a lot, which was bad, but this was also pretty awkward.
Giving him a smile the other man nodded.
“OK. Let's get together in a couple of days for that then? If you're not too busy?”
Smiling, Tor nodded and hoped that he could find a way out of it in time, “I'll try to clear some time.”
With great effort and a little bit of meditative skill, Tor managed to leave the room without running or embarrassing himself overly. Of course now he needed to get some actual work done or else he'd look like a liar. Not that anyone would check, but he’d know. Chuckling to himself he went back to his room and sat on his bed, since it was more comfortable than the floor or his desk chair. The working supplies were no problem now that he'd started doing everything in stone, focus stone, a kind of compressed dirt that looked like glass most of the time, depending on the soil you used. What he needed to do now was pick a project that would test his ability to make copies, but wouldn't force him to damage himself while doing it.
At first, after he'd injured his own field, the information that made him… him, Tor had worried that it would cripple him for decades. But after only a few months his pattern was pretty much back to normal. He should be able to do anything he'd done before. Unfortunately that included a few stupid direct effect things that had done most of the damage to begin with. If he kept repeating that stuff, forcing his will too rapidly on reality, he'd end up falling apart in bloody little gobs of flesh. It was good incentive to not be a moron if ever there was one.
