Nothing could be worse than this.
Jan would have rather been peeling potatoes in the kitchen, learning to knit, or even wrestling a mentecore on Zarth.
The first group of mages had arrived.
They were the teachers. Ten of them plus Sol and Marg.
The true identities of Avin’s parents had been shared with the Northern Edge group only, Jan and Gant.
After all, it was no business of anyone else, and so it had been settled that for now they would retain the names
that had served them well here.
Jan had been there to greet them, and had been treated as a sort of head porter by almost all but Avin’s mother and
father, who had gone, understandably, to spend time with Sil and Avin. He’d had an hour of :
Where could they get their robes laundered?
Where were the servants?
Who would wait on them at table?
Could he please run them a bath?
Did he know that there were signs of a mouse in the mess hall?
Could he direct them to the library….
He had assured them that all points raised would be dealt with shortly.
“All in good time” he thought to himself, let them settle in.
They were institutionalised and all difficult. Outside of their school politics they had no conversation, and outside
of their school environment they merely tried to recreate the power structure that they had had in there.
Jan had never met so many people for whom fun seemed a just concept to define and argue the origins of.
He wondered whether any of them had ever left the school before, even to shop.
He had this lot for three days, or at least a share in them. He hoped that Riani and Alena were having better luck
up at the school with the ten that they were dealing with in the training hall. At least theirs were
senior students and not reflections of gods in their own minds. Avin and Sil were going to be taking over in a
while and he was counting the seconds.
The mage that had been part of Hirn’s demonstration was with this group and approached him.
Jan groaned inwardly, and wondered whether someone had forgotten to put flowers by his bedside or whether the wrong
shade of mould was decorating the walls of his billet.
Jan grinned in spite of his thoughts. “Everything alright?” he asked,
The man’s name was Derel. He introduced himself, and just seemed to want to chat.
As with the rest of them however chatting outside of the parameters of debate seemed hard for him.
He was struggling for what to say after Hello.
Seeing the first spark of hope for a conversation that didn’t include a demand so far, Jan decided to help him.
“That was courageous of you, what you did in the courtroom.” he stated.
It was the truth. Jan had been impressed. Derel thanked him.
“I was nearly peeing myself” he said with a serious and introspective tone to his voice.
“I’ve never been that scared. Never, especially when I felt part of myself just… taken away.
Is that what its like for you people all the time? Being scared I mean?”
Jan thought about it, “Not really, though there’s been plenty of scary moments recently, and some heartbreaking ones.”
He was thinking of Mat, and Sil and even the sad and pathetic creature that was now Hirn.
“ Mostly we’re just trying to do what we love to do.
I like making gadgets, and I want to learn to play a Lute, but I can’t get the strings to sound right.
Avin loves learning and books, Gant likes trading, Sil travelling.
Its just that whilst we‘re doing it, life happens around us, and sometimes we have to happen with it I guess.
That‘s what you did when you stood up in the courtroom.
You joined your life to life happening. You did it well.”
Derel nodded his thanks for the compliment. He was about thirty and slight of build with curly brown hair that grew
down and outwards like a mane down to his shoulders. He was wearing plain grey robes. Jan guessed the day
to day garb for a teacher there. He seemed to be a better bet for success with training than most of the
rest, more open and Jan regretted his earlier dismissive attitude.
Hiding beneath the curtain of all of them might be a Derel.
Derel smiled at him “Well, I can help you with the Lute at least.
When there’s a break bring it round and I’ll tune it and teach you some chords.”
Jan was now a much happier man, “Cool! Thanks Derel.”
He was looking forward to being able to play some tunes at last.
It was getting on for five o’clock in the afternoon when a guard emerged from Avin and Riani’s quarters to signal
for everyone to gather in the mess room. Jan breathed a sigh of relief and saw his escape to the Inn imminent.
A space had been cleared in the middle of the room and a seating area in a semicircle placed around the edges of it.
At the front of the room were two chairs for Avin and Sil. The ten teachers gathered around and sat down.
First Sol and Marg came out and took their seats in the semicircle and then Avin and Sil followed shortly after.
They’d both dressed casually, Avin in a pale blue robe similar to the grey worn by the teachers and Sil in a white one.
It didn’t matter they both looked like visiting sages from a faraway place, with their long blond hair and delicate
features marking them as family, and as having a different physical makeup than the dark haired brown eyed genetic
generally found here in Strant. Both were armed with short swords, and four of the castle guard stood behind them.
Avin spoke from a seated position. “Any one with combat experience, magical or with weapons please stand up.”
Sol, Marg and two others stood. “Thank you. Please be seated again.”
He’d discussed the best way to prepare them with his father and they’d decided that action straight away was best.
He asked for a volunteer and the same four raised their hands. He asked Marg to step forward.
Some of the teachers had seen her disarm and knock down Ren in the Library and smiled.
“I chose you because you have mage skills and a thump like a wrestler by all accounts.
I want you to show everyone how you disarmed Ren, Cal will take his part.“ Cal stepped forward.
The show began and soon the petty discomforts were forgotten by them as sedentary and cerebral tutors were being
flung around the floor by each other and by soldiers alike. Concerns of a more immediate nature had become more
important. Like bruising and pain and the prevention of it.
Soon Avin and Sil noticed that falling techniques were improving and also defensive movements.
Not bad, but it needed to be enough to give them a chance if they were attacked at the school.
Some of them would perhaps volunteer to meet Arrin’s forces with them. He wanted them to survive that.
For three hours they and the guard gave tuition, tips and demonstrations to the teachers.
At eight o’clock Sil signalled for them sit down.
“You’ve all done well” she said. "Now you need food and rest for your muscles, it wont be as easy tomorrow.
You’ll all be aching. Remember that if you use your healing magic to stop the pain now, it will take time to regenerate.
In a live situation make sure its serious trouble before you use that option.”
Then she prepared to give the information that might make her a little unpopular.
“No servants are here to prepare or serve you food. You’ll cooperate with each other and make your own arrangements.
The castle guard will show you where things are kept, and after you’ve finished the kitchen will look as if you were never there.”
She looked round to make sure everyone understood.
“We recommence at 0800 hours tomorrow.
Make sure you’ve had breakfast.
Dismissed,”
and she and Avin turned and joined Jan in Avin and Riani’s quarters waiting to hear no complaints,
and deaf at this time to any questions.
“So I end up being the wicked witch” she laughed behind their closed doors. Avin produced their own tea and cake
from the air. “They could choose to do the same if they stepped outside of their curriculum” he said without guilt.
Jan grabbed a chunk of lemon cake.
“Why is it whenever I try that spelling I end up with nothing but splodge?”
“Practice.” said Sil and Avin as one. Jan grimaced and then remembered something.
“Speaking of which, I need to go and see Derel. He’s going to teach me some music skills.”
He grabbed another piece of cake and finished his tea quickly. “See you later” and he scurried out.
“I was worried about mum and dad, old bones and injuries and the like, but they were like youngsters.
They have no need of us to show them anything.” Sil had observed them entering into the exercises with a lot of enthusiasm.
“They want to be here. I think they’re really enjoying themselves.” Avin agreed.
At the school Riani and Alena were having a slightly easier time than Jan had suffered. The senior students were
very keen. Riani knew everyone in the group and they thought that they knew her, so things could have been more
difficult had Alena not been there.
She didn’t want to be unfriendly to anyone, but over familiarity wasn’t a thing she could tolerate now.
Alena’s deliberate deference to her, and the respect that the guard gave her made things settle down quite quickly.
The two of them handled things in much the same way as Avin and Sil had. Making certain that the group were busy doing
something right from the start of the session. Soon anyone who thought they knew Riani as the “try harder” student
now knew differently, and had the bruises to prove it.
In just over a week they’d all hoped that every mage in the school, about sixty students and teachers, would be
able to defend themselves, and also have an attitude about them that would transcend the more studious pace that
they were used to. That studying would prove most useful, but now it needed to give way to action.
These training groups were the bridge between the two. No-one was going to become a sword master here.
The hope was that some may learn enough to stay alive, and their magical powers intact.
That was all that was aimed for at the moment.
Gant was preparing his own groups within the legion at his command. He had the opposite problem in a way to the others.
He had seasoned warriors but also some technically good fighters who had never seen a battle.
All had little experience of magic and what it could do.
That tended to happen in combat situations, when it happened, with the mages stood atop hills out of the way.
It wouldn’t be like that in this case. The Order of the Elite needed to be within about fifty feet of a target to consume a spelling.
Their own people about the same distance to get rid of the explosive devices.
He’d slipped out after the Court hearing to speak to Hirn. For one thing the man deserved his thanks,
and for another to offer him a job to do before he kicked the bucket.
He thought that Hirn would be a useful training resource, and the thought of someone spending even a few weeks
just waiting to die irritated him.
He’d made a good show at the hearing in Gant‘s opinion, and his warriors deserved to see what shade of repulsive they were fighting.
Hirn, still under a two man suicide watch at Gant’s command, had been more than surprised by his request.
“I don’t really know what help I can be.” he’d said, without any self pity, simply meaning what he said.
Gant saw no reason to attempt a diplomacy that he’d never been skilled at now.
“For starters, you’re as ugly as sin in a dung heap and you’ve got a good sense for melodrama.
I think that uncloaking your true form might be a good attention getting device.
Further more you can answer specific questions about spellings, counters to them and the tech.
We can also use you to demonstrate the identification machine on.
What do you think? Can your ego stand the role of being an exhibit?”
Hirn chuckled. He couldn’t help it. He liked Gant. Anyone else might have used sweet words and promises, he would
have himself at one time in this situation. Something made him uncomfortable about casting a glamour over his
appearance though. If he was to uncloak on cue, then that would be necessary. He felt that he shouldn’t try be
something he wasn’t. Gant’s bluntness had made him feel confident to say that to him.
Gant took it all in, and then said.
“Is it your intention to rejoin your ex-comrades in the Order of the Elite?”
Hirn asserted that it was not.
The words that Riani had spoken to Sil swept through Gant’s mind. He could almost see her saying them
“then there’s no need to wear their markings is there?
If you want rid of them…then bloody well look the part man! Its just makeup and corsets!”
Gant left Hirn to think it over and though Hirn couldn’t work out where corsets came into any of this, he was
feeling something positive stirring inside of himself. He was feeling that even though he knew that the wound that
Sil had given to him would kill him very soon, he could be useful to something that he now believed in, and had
chosen for himself with no incentive of power or status. He had nothing to gain except the knowledge that he’d done
what he could to try to mend his mistakes.
He thought for a long while.
When he asked the guard to give a message to Gant, it was cloaked as the Hirn A’Kiel that had spied a beautiful
woman on his home world of Artez and fallen in love with her as she sat talking to a beggar.
Older, a little more wise, and dying, but choosing to display the markings of no faction,
either proudly or otherwise.