by Gene Curtis
Chapter 5
The Cadre Begins
Many search for the magic. Some find it. Few have it thrust upon them.
The elevator descended. Mark’s head was swimming with questions. What does all this mean? Is there more to come? Where is this special school I’m supposed to go to?
The doors slid open and he found himself looking way up into the bluest eyes that he had ever seen. They were the eyes that he had seen in his dreams. A huge grin beamed through the man’s immaculate ebony beard. He had his long black hair pulled back into a topknot and his cloak hung like a full-length leather coat. He had the look of someone important.
“I know you. Your name is Tim. You’re here to take me to school.”
“Yes, indeed, and to let your family know where you have gone.” Tim’s voice seemed too gentle for a man of his size. “I know that you all have a lot of questions. We can walk while I talk.” He gestured to the glass doors that led to the street.
The family assembled on the bustling sidewalk outside of the bank. People, going in both directions, bumped past them on either side, taking no notice of the colossal man wearing a full length, black, hooded robe covering a black tunic trimmed in silver.
Tim began speaking. “All of your questions will be answered in time. Hopefully, what I am about to tell you now will answer most of them. I am sorry that I don’t have time for lengthy explanations.”
Tim began walking backwards while still facing the family. His bulk cut a swath in the crowd of people like an icebreaker in the arctic.
“Mark has been chosen to go to The Seventh Mountain. That is an academy for Magi. Mark is a Magi just like his great, great, great, great grandfather before him. He has to go.”
The family followed in the wake that Tim created. Asking questions seemed somehow inappropriate now, things were moving so fast. Mark listened very carefully for the next clue; the next bit of information that might shed some light on what this was all about or how to get to school.
“He will learn a great many things there. You can visit him during Christmas or he can come home to visit you. You can also come to the flags matches the last Saturday of every school month. The school handles transportation.”
There it is; the school handles transportation. Tim probably has a car or something around here.
“You can write, too. Just leave your letter on his pillow, on his bed, at home. He will get it. Just make sure to leave his room as it is now and do not close the curtains.”
That information was a bit out of the ordinary and didn’t seem odd because everything was happening so rapidly.
“Classes begin on the first of September or the Monday after that if it falls on a weekend. Orientation starts a week before classes begin. That means that Mark is due at orientation today… now.”
I’m due at orientation today. I don’t even know where the school is. Wait, maybe the school is right here.
Tim, still walking backwards, held out a piece of paper toward Mark. “This is your school enrollment form. Turn it in if you decide you want to stay.”
Before Mark could take the paper, Tim turned and was walking forward. That put the paper a little farther out of Mark’s reach. Mark jogged a couple of steps to catch up. Just before Mark reached the paper, Tim turned the corner. Mark followed quickly and grabbed the paper. Mark and Tim vanished.
Tim said, “Welcome to The Seventh Mountain.”
Mark stopped in his tracks. “Whoa!”
Steve, Shirley and James turned the corner not more than five steps behind Mark and Tim. Mark and Tim were nowhere to be seen. It was as if they had vanished into thin air. There was no place for them to be hiding. They were just gone.
Mark looked around at his surroundings. He was standing on rock-strewn sand. Straight in front of him was a mountain. Stone walls made it look like a multi-terraced cake. Behind him was a wall very far away. It looked as if it encircled the entire mountain. He rubbed his eyes. This was right from his dream.
“You need to check in first. Then you need to set up a file with the accountants. I will help you with that. Then you can check out the stores. I will have to leave after we get you set at the accountants. I have to go and collect the rest of my students. Follow me.”
“Where’s my family?”
Tim started walking toward the mountain. “Well, they are still in New York. I will explain later.”
Mark followed Tim to the mountain. It was just like in his dream. The desert was hot, but not too hot. It actually felt good to be there.
A young lady was sitting at a table just inside the doors. She greeted them as they entered. She wore a black tunic trimmed in silver. Her short brown hair enclosed her round face. Her vivid eyes glowed like green embers.
It was cool inside and had the feel of a shopping mall. The corridor they were in led to another corridor that ran perpendicular. People, loads of them, some dressed in black tunics or gray tunics, others dressed in regular clothes, walked in small groups in both directions in the corridor ahead.
Tim put his heavy hand on Mark’s shoulder. “This is Mark Young. You can check him off your list.”
The lady smiled and looked at her clipboard. She made a notation on the paper and nodded at Tim. She picked up a set of papers and handed them to Mark.
Tim turned to Mark. “You are checked in now. The accountant’s office is our next stop. It will cost about two thousand dollars to buy your schoolbooks and supplies.”
So that’s why I need all that money. Things are expensive here.
“You can just sign for your supplies until you get your signet, but you need your account set up first. There are lots of neat shops here. You will want to check it all out. Remember that I need to leave after we finish at the accountants. I will meet you at The Oasis say around 8 o’clock tonight. You will like The Oasis.”
“The Oasis?”
“Yeah, you can get anything you want to eat or drink there, from any place in the whole world. I always get something that I have never had before. I have been there hundreds of times and never had the same thing twice.”
Tim turned and walked to a set of double glass doors that were in the same corridor that they were in. The sign on the doors read, “The Good Steward.” Tim held the door open for Mark to enter.
Inside looked like any office you might see. The people were sitting behind desks in the main room. There were offices on the far wall. Tim stepped up to a desk.
“This is Mark Young.” He fished inside one of his robe pockets and retrieved several slips of paper, one of which he handed to the man behind the desk. “This is his information.”
The man looked at the slip of paper and then at Mark. His blue eyes were almost as bright as Tim’s. He handed a clipboard toward Mark. “Sign these and we will set up an account here that draws on your account at Chase Manhattan.”
Mark signed the papers and handed the clipboard back to the man.
He turned to talk to Tim, but Tim was gone. The door leading back to the mall was closed. He saw the door leading outside, into the desert, just finish closing. Mark turned to the man and shrugged. “Thank you.”
Mark went out the door that he thought Tim had gone out. Tim was nowhere to be seen. It dawned on him that he was alone. Everything that had just happened had happened so fast. Fifteen minutes ago he had been in the plush conference room in New York. Now he was standing and looking out over a desert in the middle of who knew where. There was no one there that he could ask questions. He was a stranger in a strange place. He looked at the papers the lady had given him when he checked in.
Text Books:
“Ancient Languages, Level 1” (Diefenbuacher and Dover)
“Single Combat Strategy and Tactics” (Joramina Vanmie)
“Algebra and Numeric Logic” (Thorpe and Shadowitz)
“History of Empires” (David Giancoli)
“History of Sc
ientific Thought” (Allen and Becker)
“Communication Theory and Practice” (AlHufus Diefenderfer)
“Astronomy through the Ages” (Charlie Goodfellow)
Clothing:
(1) Dress School Tunic set (black and silver)
(1) Blazon Tabard
(3) Work tunics sets (gray)
(5) Class tunic sets in tribe colors
(1) Pair sandals (“flip-flops” are not allowed)
(1) Pair work boots (winter type)
(1) Hooded cloak (summer type)
(1) Hooded cloak (winter type)
Various under garments and toiletries as needed
Equipment and Supplies:
Clean white paper and parchment
Notebooks
Sealing wax
Signet ring with your name
Writing tools (pens, pencils, and highlighters)
Calculating machine
Binoculars or hand held telescope
Astronomical telescope (groups are allowed to share these)
Combat training sword
Combat training weapon of your choice (optional)
Combat training knife (optional)
Utility tool
Saddle (optional)
Mark’s thoughts were interrupted by a sound that he knew only too well. It was the sound of the taunting of a bully. He remembered an incident with Keith Green and the Greenies.
Being accosted by the Greenies had been a regular, almost daily, occurrence for Mark in grade school. In the episode that he remembered now, it had been two whole weeks, a record of sorts, since Keith Green and his buddies had bothered him. That was when they had thrown him over the fence into Beaufort, the German Shepherd’s yard. Since that time he had been taking a different route to and from the store and it seemed to be working. He would cut behind the store and across a field to a street that ran a block behind his house. It was the long way around, but it was worth it to avoid the Greenies.
The day that he remembered was different. He rounded the corner to the back of the store and there they were, sitting on top of the dumpster. Each had a beer and a cigarette. Mark heard someone say, “Grab him!”
Mark’s first thought was, They’re going to make me smoke a cigarette. It always seemed like what he thought was the worst thing that they could do to him was exactly what they did do.
Mark turned and before he completed his first step he felt a hand latch onto his collar. He landed flat on his back. Keith climbed on top of him, sitting straddling his chest with his knees pinning Mark’s arms down. Someone was sitting on Mark’s legs. The rest of the crew stood around laughing.
Keith said, “This is so that you won’t tell on us, you frigging tattletale. You say we were drinking beer. We say you were too. You say we were smoking. We say you were too.” Keith shoved a lit cigarette into Mark’s mouth. “Smoke! Or we’ll beat the crap out of you!”
The door to the back of the store swung open. “What’s going on out here?” A voice called from inside the door. Mark looked to see who spoke. A short man wearing a white apron was standing at the door.
The Greenies froze in their tracks for a moment. All at once they broke and ran in different directions. Mark was still lying on the ground with the cigarette in his mouth. He sat up and spat the foul thing out.
“Looks like I opened that door in the nick of time. You okay, son?”
Mark stood up. “Yes sir.”
“Those kids were in here earlier. I thought that they were up to no good. I just couldn’t catch them.”
“Thanks.” Mark knew that he had to do something about the Greenies. This was getting ridiculous. He was going to do something; he just didn’t know what that something was, yet.
Mark came back to reality and looked for where the sound was coming from. Not fifty yards from the school steps, a single boy was being confronted by three other, larger boys. They all looked about Mark’s age. The one boy was shouting at the other three.
“GIVE IT BACK!”
Mark walked over to the group. It was obvious that the bigger boy in the group of three had taken the single boy’s school list away from him. He was holding it over his head. The larger boy had fifty pounds and half a foot on Mark. His very round head said that he had a more than healthy appetite, if not much brains.
The single boy was about the same size as Mark. His tousled black hair and open shirt gave him a disheveled look. The altercation had obviously been physical at some point.
“Here, you can have mine.” Mark handed his list toward the boy.
They all stopped and looked at Mark. The bigger boy in the group of three said to Mark, “I know you. You’re Mark Young. I dreamed about you. You don’t scare me.”
Mark looked at the larger boy and smiled. “That’s right. I am Mark Young. Who are you?”
“My name is Ralph, Ralph Lawrence. I’m not afraid of you.”
Why does he keep saying that he isn’t afraid of me? “Who are your friends?”
The guy on Ralph’s right side said, “I’m Ricky Barns.” He was tan and lanky. His accent made Mark think he was from Texas. His face reminded Mark of a cartoon buzzard. His nose was way too big for his face and his eyes were way too small.
The guy at Ralph’s left side was short and a little pudgy. He reminded Mark of the little garden gnome statues. “I’m Keith Richards.”
Mark let his smile go. He looked Ralph straight in the eyes. He wanted to let Ralph know that the odds had shifted a little. He thought about what he would like to do to Ralph; or any other bully for that matter. He twirled his staff over his head like a baton and brought it to rest horizontally under his arm. Mark smiled again. Ralph stiffened and dropped the list.
Ralph said to no one in particular, “Let’s go.”
Ralph and his two buddies walked off toward the school’s main entrance. That was the first time in Mark’s life that a bully had backed down so easily.
“Thanks. I’m Nikola Poparov. My friends call me Nick.”
“I hate bullies. What were they picking on you for?” Mark picked up the list on the ground and handed it to Nick.
“I don’t know really. I guess because I was out here alone and seemed like an easy target. Are you a freshman, too?” Nick took the list back and nodded his thanks.
“Yeah, I think so. Tim, the guy that brought me here, said that I should check out the shops and then meet him at 8 o’clock tonight at The Oasis. You want to hang out ‘til then?”
“Sure. Tim brought me, too. He told me the same thing.” Nick buttoned up his shirt and dusted himself off. He noted that one of the buttons on his shirt had been torn off.
“Are you hungry? I didn’t get a chance to eat before Tim brought me here.”
“Yeah, me too. Let’s see if we can find The Oasis. Where are you from?”
“Kansas. How about you?”
“North Carolina.”
