Apprentice

by Marie Brown

  Chapter 4

  Meeplar surveyed the room, then settled on the bed with a satisfied rumble of purring.

  “I'm glad you approve,” Lydia said, dropping her bag with her few possessions on the ground. Meeplar looked at her with wide, adoring eyes and started making the little noises she found so irresistable. “Okay, you win, little creature. I'll pet you.”

  She sat on the bed beside the purring, chirping fuzzling and stroked the luxurious fur. Meeplar wrestled with her contentedly, gnawing gently with her little nubby teeth.

  “What am I going to do, Meeplar? This isn't as terrible as it could be, I'll agree to that, but I still don't want to be here! Why does this have to happen to me? I'm probably the only apprentice in the whole land that doesn't dream of magic and glory. I just want to make yummy desserts, and amazing breads, and get all fat and happy like my Master. Nobody trusts a skinny baker, after all. And this city! It's so big, why did I ever think I could live here? I miss Vallan, and Greentree. Big enough to support a baker, and a blacksmith, and a carpenter, and a cobbler, and others, but still small enough that I could go to market and know most of the people I saw. Even the streets. . . I mean, remember the cobblestones? Hard to walk on when it rained, but normal. Did you see the streets here? Somebody had to make all those paving stones, you know. It's so much work. . . and the buildings, they're so grand. I feel so small, and so dirty!”

  Meeplar sat up and made a loud noise, looking at the door. It hung open, and a woman in a light gray robe stood hesitating in the doorway, one hand raised to knock.

  “Hello,” she said. “I'm Sarrin. I'm your new mentor.”

  “Hello,” Lydia said, voice soft with nerves. She picked up Meeplar, who purred. “I'm Lydia. Can you see Meeplar too?”

  Sarrin smiled. “Yes, I can. May I come in?”

  “I guess so.” Lydia squeezed Meeplar, who squeaked. “My name is Lydia.”

  Sarrin walked in the room, closing the door behind her. Lydia wondered if that was how it was done here. Were people really that unfriendly? She'd never thought of shutting other people out, but now that she thought about it, the only open doorways she'd seen here didn't have actual doors in them. How was she ever going to survive here?

  “Welcome to Caissa, Lydia and Meeplar. I'm glad to see you here. I spoke with the headwoman a few minutes ago, and she told me you were an apprentice baker. Is that correct?”

  Sarrin sat gracefully in the room's only chair, by the bare desk and empty bookshelf. Meeplar struggled, and Lydia released her. The fuzzling hopped to the ground and started rubbing against Sarrin's ankles, chirping.

  “Yes,” Lydia said, blinking at the ever-ready tears. She really didn't want to cry in front of this lovely, elegant woman. “That's all I've ever wanted to do with my life. But now I have to learn magic.”

  “Yes,” Sarrin nodded. “This is essential. You have to understand how vulnerable you are if you don't learn to control your abilities.”

  “Yes, I know.” Lydia sighed and patted the bed. Meeplar mrrped and trotted back across the floor, jumping in Lydia's lap.

  “But you don't like it. That's okay, I understand. When I was your age, I wanted to stay in my family business. We had a dressmaker's service, and I used to love the beauty of the gowns. . . the fabrics were so rich, so beautiful, and—never mind. I had to come here, to the Hall of Lights, instead, because things started flying around without me touching them when I turned thirteen. It was scary, and made me very mad, because I was almost a journeyman dressmaker by then, about to start travelling to the great noble houses and making the truly lovely ball gowns I'd always admired. . . This is why I'm here. The headwoman felt I'd be best suited to helping you out, because I never wanted to be a mage either.”

  “But you are,” Lydia felt curious, despite her stubborn desire to resist anything and everything about this place.

  “Yes, I am,” Sarrin nodded acknowledgment. “I decided to stay after my third year, because magic isn't as bad as I thought it would be. And while the robes we all wear in the Hall itself are deplorably simple and plain, the beauty of the magic fills up the place in my heart that longs to create wonderful things. I don't expect you to understand that right now, but you may someday. And if you do, you may find yourself drawn to magic as strongly as you were to baking. But for now, I am going to show you around the living area of the Hall, and answer whatever questions you have for me.”

  How soon can I leave this place? Lydia didn't say that aloud. “Why do people wear robes in the Hall?”

  “It's a way of visually identifying who's who, without having to ask. The color and fabric of the robes are different for different ranks. For you, we're going to get a short woolen robe, charcoal gray, that will be worn over a shirt and trousers. This is the uniform of students. We chose it for pure practicality, as you will be doing things other than sitting at a desk with a book. People with robes like mine, soft cotton in this lighter shade of gray, are all instructors of some kind. In general, the lighter the color, the higher the rank of the person wearing it. You'll soon be able to tell all sorts of things about a person by what they are wearing. For now, it's enough to remember that anyone with robes like mine will be able to help you if you have a problem or a question.”

  “What other things am I going to have to study?”

  “You must learn how to read the rune languages, and how to write them as well, plus you need to learn the proper way to speak the spell words. I notice you don't have much of an accent. This is a very good thing, and gives you a strong advantage already. You will also learn other things, like how to ride a horse, and how to make a fire out of wet wood. Most of our students can call fire—Clariss said you can do this already?”

  Lydia nodded.

  “Good. But it is an ability that is unfortunately vulnerable to all sorts of attack, so we want to make sure you can survive in even the most adverse conditions. You will also learn how to work in a group. The Clusters of Lights are groups of four people that the Hall sends out to do our works in the world. Clusters consist of a mage, a fighter, a loremaster, and a healer. Each person must work together to create an effective Cluster.”

  “Do I have to learn all that? I just want to be a baker! I only want to learn enough to keep myself safe. Why do I have to learn all that other stuff, too?”

  Sarrin's smooth, serene face showed the smallest hint of a frown. “You are young now, and this is the best time for learning. I know you believe you will not stay here any longer than necessary at this moment, but do you know for sure this will remain true two years from now? The Circle can not take the chance that you will decide to stay without the learning you may need. Can you understand that? If we concentrated solely on teaching you magic, and you decided to stay, you would be behind in your other skills, and past the age when you learn as easily as you breathe. So even if you do leave, you must learn the basics of the skills required of our active Lights. Is this understood?”

  More tears trembled behind Lydia's eyelashes. “Yes, Mistress. I will learn what you require.” But I will go home as soon as you allow.

  “Good. You may start by learning this: instructors are addressed as Your Wisdom. The protocol here in the Hall is very strict. Allowances are made for new arrivals, but you do not wish to offend anyone by using the wrong mode of address. Also, true names are not always used here. You may wish to choose a use-name to tell casual acquaintances, and keep your true name to yourself and your closest friends.”

  “Why?” Lydia asked, startled out of the seething resentment she felt over the whole situation, especially this new ridiculousness about protocol. “My name has been good enough so far.”

  “It's not a question of good enough, dear. It's about safety. Knowing someone's real name gives you power over that person.”

  “Is Sarrin your real name?”

  “No, it is not.” Sarrin smiled tightly. “That is a question you should never ask of people. It is very rude.”

 
; “Sorry,” Lydia muttered, back to resentment. She looked down at the fuzzling in her lap. At least Meeplar liked her, and wasn't about to chastise her!

  “Come, Lydia. Let's go have that tour now. I can answer questions as easily while we walk as sitting here.”

  “Okay.” Lydia stood, dumping Meeplar unceremoniously on the ground. The fuzzling chirped and bounded alongside Lydia as she followed Sarrin out of the room.

  “This is the wing of the building where students are housed,” Sarrin began, gesturing at the long corridor filled with closed doors at even intervals. Plants on stands broke the monotony of the white marble between doors. “You may or may not get to know your fellow students, depending on the time you spend at lessons and studying. Obviously, the more time you spend at study, the faster you will learn. This room,” she said, indicating a blue door, shockingly bright after all the stark white, “is the bathing room. Are you familiar with indoor plumbing?”

  “Indoor what?” Lydia bit her tongue. Stupid! She had to learn to not just blurt out the first thing into her mind. She didn't want to label herself any more plainly than necessary as a country bumpkin.

  “Plumbing. Come inside, then, and I will explain.”

  Lydia found the bathing room almost as beautiful as walking suddenly into heaven. She'd never even heard of the concept of indoor plumbing, let alone seen it. The ability to turn a knob and have water—even hot water—come gushing out of a metal tube was so intensely wonderful she just wanted to stay and turn it on and off for a while. More than that, this room had bathtubs larger than she had ever seen before, that drained through a hole in the bottom, rather than a laborious bailing process. And there were indoor privies! They were called “flushpots,” because stuff inside got flushed away to somewhere mysterious by more of that running water. Pull a chain, and it went away. No more digging, no lime, no yuck. And best of all, no sitting on a cold slab of wood over a drafty hole on winter mornings. Why, people probably didn't even need chamber pots here, with this beautiful warm room available even in the middle of the night!

  The tour continued. Lydia and Meeplar followed Sarrin around as she showed them the student facilities. Food came from long sideboards in the dining hall, with the option of eating with others or carrying it back to one's own room. Lydia made careful note of the location of the kitchen and resolved to see if she could get in there at any point. Books were stored in a cavernous library. Lydia wondered, looking at the shelves towering probably three times her own height, why everything in this place was so big. Was it all made by giants? She didn't want to ask her mentor that, though. She didn't want to sound stupid, and resolved to not ask the questions that seemed like something only an ignorant bumpkin would ask.

  While in the library, Sarrin picked out her first assignment, a big clunky volume titled simply Magic. Looking at the size of the thing, Lydia felt sure she'd be out of this place and back to the bakery quickly. Surely a volume that size contained everything she'd need to know to stay safe and sane! She'd master it quickly, then get out of this intimidating place.

  Outside, Sarrin led Lydia, Meeplar jogging gamely behind, to an even more intimidating place: the stable complex. Lydia had never even seen a horse close up. She knew they were big, and useful for pulling plows and such, but she'd never had reason to go near one. They were huge, and very scary, until one put its head down and sniffed her trembling hand. Then she noticed how soft the nose of the beast was, and how much it enjoyed her rubbing its head. Sarrin showed her how to scratch behind the ears and the horse let its ears flop and let loose a big gusty sigh. Lydia giggled at it, less frightened now. It looked so silly! But she still didn't want to climb up on its back, or the back of any other horse, either.

  The riding arena made no real impression on Lydia. It was just a big enclosed area with a lot of dirt. The jumping course, however, scared her nearly stiff. She listened in horror as Sarrin described sitting on the back of a horse as it raced across the open countryside and actually jumped over obstacles, instead of swerving around them like any sensible creature should do. She hoped she would be long gone from the Hall before anyone asked her to do such a thing.

  “How large is this place, anyway?” Lydia asked. She added up the things she'd seen so far and came up with an area larger than her home village and the town of Greentree combined, and this was all contained within a larger city!

  “The Hall of Lights grounds cover nearly an entire district of Caissa. Next to us is the Temple, and then the palace. If you look from outside the city, on a hill, you can see a big block in the middle of the city, with a lot of green towards one edge. The green is this big field, with the jumps and the pasture, and it is shared with the palace. All together, the three locations make up the largest complex in the entire city.”

  Lydia chewed her lip. A palace? A temple? Dedicated to what god, she wondered. Probably not one she knew. And “palace” meant royalty. Was this place ruled by a king? She didn't know much of anything about government, only that the lands where she'd grown up were seen over by a baron, and that Greentree had a mayor.

  Bells rang at intervals throughout the tour. Sarrin explained that the bells signalled certain times of the day. Lydia wondered if she'd ever keep everything straight. Bells here, colors there, modes of address to annoy her, and her poor mind felt like it was about to explode. First Bell wasn't really the first, because two other bells rang before it, but they made different sounds and were meant to wake different groups of servants. She didn't need to listen to some bells, but she did need to listen to others, and how could she tell them apart when they all sounded the same? Okay, maybe not the same, but it was hard for her to tell which bell sounded higher or lower when they sounded seperately.

  Sarrin left her when the dinner bell sounded, after guiding her to the dining hall. Lydia watched her go with mingled relief and panic. Alone! Now what? She couldn't feel stupid in front of her elegant mentor now, true, but what was she to do?

  “Mrrp?”

  Meeplar gave her a questioning look, then glanced at the dining hall.

  “Good idea, little fuzzy,” Lydia said, then went inside. She hung back for a moment to survey what was going on. It looked like students, in their short gray robes, were taking food from an endless sea of serving platters and either carrying it away on a tray or sitting at the long tables. Conversations merged into a dull roar, punctuated with clinks of utensils hitting plates. Lydia slipped in quietly and took a place at the end of the serving line. Soon she had a tray full of food and was on her way back to her room, struggling to keep the tray and the big magic book under control.

  She counted doorways to find it, using the blue bathing room door as a landmark. Hers was six down from that all-important door, she remembered that from the morning. There!

  She slipped inside the room with a feeling of intense relief, this time remembering to close the door behind her. Someone had been in there while she was away. A pile of student clothing sat in a tidy heap on the bed, along with some towels and bed linens. She wondered what happened here with laundry. Did she do her own? If so, where? She hadn't seen any kind of laundry room in the tour.

  Laundry questions aside, now that she was in a safe, secure place, Lydia was suddenly ravenous. She dropped both tray and book on her desk and started eating even as she opened the book to the first page.

  Soon she was so deep in the text that she didn't even hear Meeplar chattering away, as the fuzzling did ninety percent of the time. Meeplar gave up on trying to talk and plumped down in her lap instead. Lydia ate and read.

  Magic started out with history. Lydia had never known much history, and found it interesting despite herself. All she'd known about historical events came from songs. But this book talked about places she'd never heard of, and the development of different schools of magic, and the spread of magic across the continent of Anarill (and what was a continent, anyway?). It was fascinating. It didn't make much sense, at first, but it was still fascina
ting.

  Then the book moved on to the real thing, talking about preparing to learn magic, and meditations, and spell components.

  “It's like recipes, Meeplar!” Finally, something she could relate to. Spell components tended to be a lot weirder than baking ingredients, it looked like, but she could understand the concept very easily. Take a substance, prepare it in a certain way, then combine it with other ingredients at the right time and in the right way, and magic would happen.

  Lydia read until the room was too dark to see the words on the page anymore. She realized that she hadn't seen any kind of oil lamp or candles, and wondered how people made light here. She went out to use the bathing room, with an armload of towelling and nightdress, and noticed the corridor was brightly lit. When she returned, clean and ready for bed, she left the door open long enough to use the light to make up her bed, then closed it securely. Meeplar chirped at her from the bed and she laid down. Her last thought was of the rumbling, purring lump snuggled up tight to her side.