That night I slept very little. I kept having dreams of standing in a classroom with everyone laughing at me. Then Rafe was there, as he always was in my recent dreams, but I could only see his back. I called out to him, but he was walking away from me, on the arm of another girl whose face I couldn’t see. They were laughing and cuddling as if they were having a marvelous time, and Rafe never even turned to look at me. I tossed and turned the whole night and was still awake when the sun rose from the Stardust Sea in the early hours of first light.
The next morning I got out of bed early, since I was already awake. The crisp morning air was chilly, and I dressed quickly, trying to figure out how my new uniform was to be worn.
The novices all wore the same thing: ankle-length robes with a white, full-sleeved shirt under a leather vest that was to be tied in the front with laces. This was worn over thick tights tucked into sturdy leather boots. The color of the robe depicted the year that the mage was in. Novices all wore green; the second-years wore red robes; third-years wore blue and fourth-years purple. When it was cold, we had a standard brown cloak that all the students wore. The professors were dressed in black robes lined with silver.
I was anxious about my first day and didn’t want to be late. The dining table in my dorm house was laid with freshly cooked eggs and fruits with little pots of butter and jam interspaced about the table. Big jugs of cream accompanied the blueberries that were placed in tiny bowls. Jugs of different fruit juices and milk, and baskets of freshly baked bread, cakes, and fresh jam-filled pastries, along with bowls of porridge, cheese, and some sort of cured meats, filled in the gaps. A few of the girls were already there, eating and chatting away.
When I came in, they ignored me. Vivienne was already sitting at the end of a table eating. She waved me over, so I found myself a place at the end of the bench near her, sat down, and quickly ate my breakfast.
Vivienne and I had classes together, so that would be fun. I consulted my scroll as to where our first class was.
Evolon was like no school I had ever been to. Although the classes involved students and a teacher, that is where the comparison stopped. Most of the classes were held outdoors, in courtyards near fountains, under the shade of an old oak, or down in the gardens where a marquee was set up to shade us from the sun. And, as if the whole place wasn’t confusing enough, the classes kept moving, so if you didn’t check the board in the main hall every day you may have to end up trudging miles back from a class that had already moved. To top it all off, the classes were not all in the same structure.
There was a separate area on the grounds for warrior skills, a different house for healing studies and one for transformation and illusion skills. Alchemy was all the way on the other side of the campus because the students were frequently blowing things up. Ancient studies, history, and political studies were located in the best house of all, the library.
I checked my schedule; my first class was history. That seemed quite normal, except it wasn’t really. I would be learning about the history of a world I never knew existed until a few weeks ago. One thing I was definitely looking forward to was learning about my heritage. I had read a few books when I was in Silverthorne Castle, and most of them mentioned my father or mother’s name at some point, or one of their ancestors. It was quite fascinating, learning about my family in this way.
Vivienne and I walked along the flower-lined walkways that intersected in a maze of confusing paths, sometimes leading to a frustrating dead end. Finally we had to climb over three flowerbeds and under one bush to get to the broad avenue that led to the largest mansion on the property, the library of Evolon.
I was picking leaves out of my hair and smoothing my dress when I saw it. According to Vivienne, the library of Evolon was famous throughout the whole kingdom and beyond for housing the greatest collection of knowledge, second only to the knowledge of the fae, who had lived in this world longer than any other race.
It was a fantastic structure, which looked a lot like a sixteenth-century manor house. Wisteria had climbed the walls of the front façade, which was huge and imposing, and two additional wings led out at right angles towards the sea. It stood on the highest point of the university grounds, on a cliff overlooking the clear blue waters of the Bay of Pearls. The main avenue leading to it was lined with cherry blossoms and was packed with scurrying students eager to get to their classes and not turn up late.
We hurried towards the massive structure, not wanting to be late on my first day. We climbed the large stone steps and stepped through the oak doors and into the library.
The inside of the library was just as wonderful; the foyer was a majestic, high-ceilinged room with a grand staircase and corridors leading to the classes on the first floor. The whole ground floor consisted of reading rooms, which all opened up into each other. Shelves upon shelves of thousands of books, worn and bound in brown leather, lined the walls reaching all the way to the top of the high oak-beamed ceiling. Small tables and benches had been placed in all the rooms, and students were quietly working at their studies while library monitors prowled the corridors. One big table where the chief librarian sat was placed in the center of the massive foyer.
I climbed the stairs and followed the signs to my classroom, which was all the way at the end of the west wing of the structure. I wanted to sit at the back, but Vivienne, who was obviously an extremely eager student, pulled me up to sit in the front with her. I was always very conscious of sitting in the front, not because I didn’t want to learn, but because I was afraid the teacher might call on me or ask me a question, and I wasn’t ready for that.
The class was already full, and the professor entered just as the last of the students trickled in. “I am Professor Plumpleberry,” she said, as she waved her hand in a flick and the door slammed shut behind her. I was relieved. If Penelope were teaching this class, I would be okay.
I noted a few girls giggle. Professor Plumpleberry did not hear them or simply chose to ignore them. I had to admit it was a funny name, especially since it suited her so well.
Professor Plumpleberry was not what you would expect of a history and ancient studies teacher. Although I knew she was fae, the others hadn’t noticed yet. She looked so young and was suitably plump with curly, white-blonde hair. But I knew she was a very old fae and highly skilled at magic.
“Good morning everyone,” Professor Plumpleberry said jovially, hovering two feet off the ground. Some of the others gasped. I grinned; I was happy to see Penelope.
“For those of you who have looks on your faces that would give the village idiot a run for his money,” Professor Plumpleberry said, tucking her hair behind her pointed ears, “I am one of the fae, and I am three hundred and ninety-three years old. So, if any of you do not think I am qualified to teach ancient studies, you can go to another school. I hear Nerenor has a history teacher who is well into his fifties. I’m sure he can give you as much illumination on the state of our world two or three hundred years ago.”
Everyone in the room was now quiet, and the giggling girls had promptly shut up.
“He can give you facts, figures, and embellishments written by biased men, but I can give you the truth,” said Professor Plumpleberry.
“For instance,” she paused dramatically. The class was now hanging on her every word. “I was there when Dorian the Fourth was king. I watched as his son, Tristan the Third, slew the Gorgoth with his bare hands.”
I heard a few girls in the front gasp. Erien had told me about Gorgoths, men who had been turned into giant bats, abnormally strong, with dripping fangs and razor-sharp claws. I shuddered at the thought of meeting one of those creatures and hoped I never had to.
“I helped rebuild Kelliandria along with the dwarves when the great earth shook and destroyed countless lives,” she continued. “That was a very long time ago, almost two hundred summers.”
Some girls gasped again. I grinned. Mrs. Plumpleberry really was a very good teacher. And she knew how to keep the room quiet and her students interested.
“On a more recent note, I was there in the midst of the last mage war that took place on the plains of Eleth. It was a dark time for all of us. A rebellion of nearly a hundred fully trained mages, who fought against their king and had turned away from the gentle way of the mages, sought to take the kingdom for themselves.”
Everyone was silent as Professor Plumpleberry looked around the room. For a fleeting second, she looked straight at me, her blue eyes twinkling, then she continued her story.
“I was busy healing a warrior-mage, and was present when Prince Azaren, the king’s champion, Warden of the West, and the most powerful mage of our age, created a lightning strike so formidable that it burst through the approaching army, killing the traitor Joreth.” She shook her head then went on. “With their leader gone, the traitors who called themselves the Black Mages surrendered.”
I couldn’t help myself; I felt a hot tear trickle slowly down my cheek. My father was a hero, a real champion. Everything that Uncle Gabriel had said about him was true. Not that I ever really doubted it, but hearing it here, in school as part of a history lesson, was amazing. Was he really the Warden of the West? I made a mental note to ask Penelope about that after class.
I got back to concentrating on what Professor Plumpleberry was saying. I was now quite sure which class was going to be my favorite. Everything I needed to know about my parents was here, in this classroom and in this library.
When the class finished, Penelope was busy talking to a student, and Vivienne dragged me along with her, so I decided I could talk to Penelope later.
After ancient studies, we all moved to another classroom in the same building. It was called “Social Structure and Government in the Seven Kingdoms”, but it was essentially politics. Professor Ruthbridge was old and boring. He had a timid voice and shaggy, unkempt silver hair, which made him look a bit like Albert Einstein, I thought, as Vivienne and I found seats at the back of the class. Vivienne wanted to sit at the front as usual, but all the seats were taken. I was relieved.
I sat quietly while the professor rambled on and on about places I didn’t know. He was spewing a litany of names, and I was completely lost.
“There used to be slaves in Eldoren too?” a boy called Reginald asked, interrupting the professor.
The old professor nodded. “The mages used them to tend their estates,” he said. “The slave trading may be under control now, but our kingdom is still fueled by unrest. There is a huge underground network of cutthroats, thieves, and outlaws that roam these lands and prey on the helpless. The city guards are swamped with work, and the dungeons are overflowing.”
“But what about the Blue Cloaks?” one girl asked. “Can’t they do anything?”
Professor Ruthbridge shook his shaggy head. “The Blue Cloaks are powerful mage warriors, but there just aren’t enough of them to go around. We must rely on nonmagical guards too.”
My thoughts drifted to Rafe. He was an outlaw; was he also a part of this underground network that the professor spoke about? I knew so little about him. He could very well be dangerous, but still I didn’t care, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Although he must have forgotten all about me after he left me at Greystone.
While I was busy dreaming about Rafe, political studies ended. I wondered what I had missed. I would have to take notes from Vivienne later. She was taking alchemy, and I had healing next, so we had to split up.
“See you later,” said Vivienne, rushing off towards the alchemy house.
I had a few minutes before my healing class started, so I went over to the healing house early to meet Penelope. She was mixing some liquids in a small bottle and peppering it with some sort of silver powder. She gave me a huge smile when I came in. I rushed over and gave her a big hug, careful not to spill the contents of the bottle.
“It’s so lovely to see you again, Penelope,” I said, meaning every word. This was the first time I had been able to speak to her since I arrived. “How’s Kalen? Did he come with you?”
Penelope shook her head, her golden curls bouncing. “No, my dear, but I will send for him soon, I promise. He wanted to come, you know how Kalen is, but it’s just not the right time.”
I was disappointed that Kalen had not come to see me; it would have been nice to have him around while I was getting used to this new school. Vivienne was sweet, but I couldn’t talk to her about Morgana or the fae. At least I had Penelope.
“What are you doing?” I asked, fascinated. “What’s that?” I pointed to the greenish liquid in the bottle she held in her hands.
“Getting ready for my next class,” she said, smiling.
“Are you teaching healing too?” I asked.
“Yes,” Penelope said. “Professor Dekela requested that I fill in for the healing teacher, who has gone on a year-long pilgrimage to the temple of Briesies in the foothills of the Silverspike Mountains.”
“But I thought you were the ancient studies teacher?”
“I can teach both,” said Penelope, her eyes twinkling as she bustled about the room, while I sat on a high stool. “Anyway, there are many other history teachers, I only teach ancient studies once a week and a few healing classes. Most of my time goes into assisting the academy healers when they have a particularly bad case.”
“Tell me about healing please, Penelope,” I pleaded. “Just a little before the class starts. I’m so behind all the other students in my class. They have all grown up around magic, but I can’t even understand how fae healing and mage healing are different.”
“They are not as different as you would think,” said Penelope. “Fae healing is similar to mage healing in many ways, but the distinction occurs in the fae’s capacity for healing.”
“Which means?”
“The main difference is that mage powers diminish rapidly when you heal someone, and it takes the mage a long time to recover, depending on the mage’s innate power.”