Allister showed Azerick to his room and got him settled in. A servant issued him bed sheets, a pillow, and blankets as well as two robes that served as the Magus Academy uniform to wear as long as he was on Academy grounds. He was trying on one of the robes when another student walked in.
“Oh hi, I didn’t know I had a roommate this year. I did not have a roommate last year. I hope you don’t snore. I hope I don’t snore! I’ll apologize now for snoring just in case I snore because I don’t know if I do or not. I’m usually asleep when I’m sleeping, so It’s hard for me to say whether I do or not,” the new boy spouted out nervously.
“Ok,” Azerick said drawing the word out in confusion. “I’m Azerick, and you are?”
“Oh sorry, I’m Franklin but my friends call me Rusty.”
“Because of your hair?” Azerick asked.
Rusty was tall, a good six inches taller than Azerick but probably weighed twenty pounds less and had a head full of bright red hair.
“No, it’s because it takes me a little while to get the hang of things after the summer break—and winter festival break, and spring festival break, and just about any break in school longer than a week. Sometimes my spells don’t go right after I have a break in study and set things on fire. When that happens I tell them it’s because I’m rusty so everyone started calling me Rusty.”
Rusty talked fast and in a nervous fashion, his eyes constantly darting around trying to look at everything at once.
“So what’s your favorite sphere? Mine’s fire!” Rusty asked.
“Sphere? I don’t know what you mean.”
“You know, sphere, element, like fire, water, earth, wind, or astral.”
“Oh, I don’t know, I don’t have one yet.”
“Really? How long have you been studying? I’ve never seen you at the Academy. Where were you apprenticed before?” Rusty asked, screwing up his face.
“This is my first time here, or anywhere. I’ve never studied magic before,” Azerick answered, feeling more than a little awkward.
“You’ve never studied before? At your age? How did you get in here then?”
“Magus Allister sponsored me and brought me here. When did you start studying?
“Most of us start at around six or seven years old. Man, I’ve never heard of anyone starting the Magus Academy at your age, the Martial Academy maybe, but it’s going to be hard for you to catch up. You should be an apprentice by now, maybe even a journeyman if you were really good. I’m an apprentice myself but I hope to graduate to journeyman by the end of the year. You start out as a novice but don’t worry; I’ll help you so you don’t get stuck with the kids too long.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“What does your father do? He must be pretty important to have enough influence to get you into the Magus Academy at your age.”
“He was a ship merchant but he’s dead now. Magus Allister saw me do some things and I guess it impressed him enough to get the rules bent for me.”
“Well that’s good and he’s a pretty powerful wizard around here, so you must have something going for you. Let me help you unpack,” offered Rusty.
“Ok, thanks.”
Rusty showed him a small bookcase, table, and desk where Azerick could set up his things and he began unpacking.
“Whoa, where did you get that alchemic set?” Rusty exclaimed when Azerick began setting it up on the table.
“I bought it in town.”
“You must have had quite an inheritance to buy a set like that.”
“I had some money but it’s mostly gone now.”
“It looks like it’s been used, did you use it?”
“Yeah, I made a few things with it.”
“You said you never studied before, what did you make?”
The question made Azerick hesitate for a moment.
“I made a potion to help a person sleep, help with pain, speed healing, and a type of really flammable oil,” he answered, not wanting to give away too much.
“Wow, that’s pretty high level stuff. Where did you learn how to brew it?”
Azerick showed him his book on alchemic theory and practice as well as the book on magic that Allister had let him keep. He showed off the few cantrips that he had learned from the book to Rusty.
“And you learned all that just from the book without any help? I learned those spells in my first couple years but I would never have been able to do it without a real magus to teach me. No wonder Magus Allister brought you here. If you learn everything that fast you’re probably going to be one of the most powerful wizards to leave here in the past hundred years!”
“I don’t know about that, I just hope I can learn enough not to embarrass myself. I’m still not sure if I’m really cut out to be a wizard or not. I think I would like to be though,” Azerick said.
“I’m sure you’ll do fine. You probably won’t even be in the baby class that long.”
“The baby class?”
“Yeah, that’s what some of the kids who have been here a while call the novices, mostly just the jerks, not me.”
“Are there a lot of jerks in this school?”
“There are some. Mostly it’s the wealthy noble’s kids from old families that think they’re better than everybody else is. My father is one of the ministers of finance for the Duke, but our money and family doesn’t go back that far. He was just an accountant for some moneylender until about ten years ago then he got the minister position. That’s how I was able to get into the Academy. You have to kind of watch out for them, they like to group up and pick on the younger kids and those whose family doesn’t have that much influence.”
“I can take care of myself, but thanks for the warning.”
Azerick went to place his book back on the bookshelf and stepped on the hem of his robe.
“How can anyone stand to wear these things? There’s no way you could fight in this without wrapping yourself up and falling,” Azerick cursed as he kicked at the bottom of his robe.
“You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to. It’s only required for graduation and formal occasions. Most people wear whatever they want. Some wear the school robe, some wear their own robes, really fancy ones made of silk and have all kinds of ridiculous patterns in them like they’re already some high Magus or something. I think they look like idiots.”
“I can imagine.”
Azerick pulled the cumbersome robe off and changed back into his charcoal and hunter green outfit, complete with short cloak. It was not the richest-looking clothing but it was still in good shape. He and Rusty continued talking for another hour or so, quickly becoming friends. A bell tolled from across the common.
“What’s that for?” Azerick inquired.
“That’s the dinner bell, c’mon I’m starved.”
The two wizards in training raced down the stairs and entered a large hall filled with benches and tables. They got in line served with the best-looking assortment of food he had seen in a long time. There was roast beef, potatoes, vegetables, baskets of fresh bread, and jars of butter and honey.
“Look at this food!” the former street rat exclaimed.
“Yeah, kind of an army chow type deal here but it’s not too bad,” Rusty replied, being far more accustomed to eating a richer fare.
Azerick was soon engorging himself and drinking fruit juice. The food made him feel better than he had in a long time. Rusty was doing most of the talking, as Azerick was far too busy putting food into his mouth to get any words to come out of it. Azerick felt a tingling at the back of his neck, his street sense alerting him that someone was at his back.
“Hey, Rusty, what are you going to set on fire this year? Maybe this time it will be your hair, not that anyone would notice,” came a snide remark from behind Azerick.
“What do you want, Travis?” Rusty asked, suddenly looking ill at ease.
Azerick looked over his shoulder at the newcomer. He was About Azerick’s age, dressed in a fine robe of blue silk with the cuffs and hem bordered in black. Strange designs and sigils sewn into the silk with silver thread adorned it. Of course he was not alone, bullies never are. He was backed up by three more richly dressed, but not quite so gaudy, boys about the same age.
“You bringing in strays now, Rusty?” Travis taunted, looking down his nose at Azerick.
“Do you have some kind of problem with me?” Azerick said as he got to his feet.
“I have a problem with dining with peasants whose only business here should be mucking out the stables" Travis sneered.
“Azerick, just ignore them, you don’t want to get into it with them,” warned Rusty.
“Yes, stable boy, you don’t want that I assure you.”
“Actually you should be glad I’m here. It just so happens that I just came from the stables and you should be happy to know that I gave your mother a good brushing and a nice bag of oats. I heard she was a good ride, but I'm not sure if they meant with a saddle or in a bed,” Azerick fired back.
“You…how dare you! I’ll kill you!” the enraged young man sputtered as he withdrew a wand from his robes and pointed it at Azerick. “Take back those words this instant or so help me I’ll kill you where you stand!”
“Azerick, do it, take it back!” Rusty cried in panic.
“
Pfft
, with a stick? You will have to point something at me far more dangerous than a twig if hope to intimidate me. You are not even holding it properly. Here, let me show you how to use it.”
Travis glanced down at his wand and in that split second Azerick’s hand snaked out in a flash, snatching the rod way. Travis looked up, prepared to demand his property back when Azerick struck out like and slapped him hard across the face with it. The bully, now on the defensive, raised a hand to cover the stinging welt already beginning to form on his face only to receive its twin on the other side by an equally swift backhand blow.
Travis lunged at the commoner who dared strike him in an attempt to retrieve his wand. Azerick ducked a shoulder and drove him back into two of his friends that were standing behind him. The third member of Travis’s gang rushed forward. Azerick turned and lunged for the table, scooping up the heavy wooden tray and cracked it across the boy’s forehead.
The boy flew backwards into a pair of spectators seated at the table behind him, knocking them over onto their table and upsetting their trays. The rich boy and two of his cohorts were back up and charging. Azerick jumped up onto his table, ready to continue his defense when a booming voice resounded across the dining hall.
“That is enough!”
Azerick and all four of his tormentors suddenly found themselves suspended above the tables and benches. Travis continued to curse and threaten him. Azerick reached down, scooped up a baked potato, and hurled it, striking him between the eyes in retaliation.
“I said that was enough! What is the meaning of this?” demanded a man in robes.
“Magus Morgarum, he stole my wand and hit me with it, twice. He also he hit me in the face with a potato, shoved me, and hit Roger in the face with a tray. He must be thrown off the grounds immediately!” Travis demanded.
“The Headmaster decides who attends this school, Apprentice Beaumonte, not you. What do you have to say for yourself?” he asked Azerick.
“I was just defending myself.”
“We’ll see about that.” Whatever force was keeping them suspended was suddenly absent, sending all five plummeting onto the floor and tabletops.
All five students soon found themselves standing before Headmaster Dondrian. He wore the typical wizard garb Azerick had seen most of the other magus wear about campus. His robes were a rich silver with mystic symbols and runes stitched in black silk thread. He was mostly bald, what hair he had was all in a two inch wide strip running from one ear, wrapping around to the other ear, and starting to grey at the temples. His lips were a bright red like someone had created them by slashing a blade across solid flesh and carried a sheen do to his constant habit of licking them. He sat quietly during each boy’s telling of the events within the dining hall until he felt he had heard everything he needed to.