As the early afternoon sunlight streamed in through the large elegant windows, Delgar sat back in his chair and tried to look as small as possible. The classroom was filled with students, all of whom looked richer, older, and smarter than he did. He glanced around the lecture theater again, taking note of the locations of the exits. The wilderness had been bad enough, but at least Daelyn had been there. Here he was all alone.
    The last he had seen of Daelyn had been in the Chancellor’s office two weeks ago. He had been shown to his room, and shortly afterwards a note had been delivered to him, with instructions on where to get supplies and what to get. He remembered his throat drying up at that moment as the reality of his situation hit him.
    But, he had swallowed down his fear and homesickness, and begun to explore the Mageschool. The school was huge, a fortress in itself. The majesty of it all had left him breathless; where his room was a small cell, the school was fit for royalty. The lecture halls were huge and eldritch, the banquet halls were vast and well stocked with food, and the study rooms were quiet and comfortable. No matter how often Delgar tried to feel at home, the alienness of his situation overpowered him: he was alone and without family in a strange place.
    But he had to trust in Daelyn; the Tuatha de Danaan had never sent him down the wrong path.
    So, he had spent his two weeks gathering supplies and trying to keep himself as busy as possible. Somehow, though, he often found himself sitting forelorn in his cell. It was odd, he reflected one day, that he had only really began to realize how much he had lost when he was safe and sound again.
    The entrance of a short but powerful man with short grey hair and a close cropped beard brought Delgar’s attention back to the present. The newcomer turned to gaze at the class with confident brown eyes, and then he placed the papers in his hands on the desk before him.
    “Well,” he said with a soft, aristocratic accent. “Welcome to basic magical theory. I see by the looks of terror on your faces that you are the new class. Let me assure you now that you have every reason to be terrified.”
    The wizard took a deep breath. “I am Archmage Velnan, and I will be your instructor for the next eight months. Rest assured that less than half of you will survive your first year, and only half of those that remain will actually graduate. Those that manage to complete their education here will be those students who are here to learn. None of us care how nice you are, who your sponsor is, or how much money you have. All that we care about is how well you can work, and how much you manage to learn. If you are here to pass time for four years, or because your parents want you here, then you may as well leave now; you are wasting your time staying here.”
    Velnan paused for a moment, looking over the class. For a minute he made eye contact with Delgar, and his eyes narrowed slightly, but then his gaze moved on.
    But nobody stood up and moved towards the door. The class simply sat and watched their instructor.
    Velnan nodded. “Very well. I will be teaching you magical theory. You will not be tossing fireballs at one another; in fact you will not be casting any magic at all this year. What you will be learning is how magic works and what ethics lie behind it.” He pointed to somebody to the right and behind Delgar. “What is your name, boy?”
    “Teranus, sir,” came the reply.
    “Very well, Teranus, do you know what magic is?”
    There was a moment of silence, and then Teranus’ voice called out. “Power.”
    Velnan shook his head. “Wrong.” He glanced around the class again, and finally pointed to Delgar. “You, child, what is your name?”
    “Delgar, sir.”
    “Delgar, do you know what magic is?”
    Delgar thought for a moment. Daelyn had told him what some magic was, but did that apply to all magic? Was that the real question he was being asked, or was there more to it?
    He finally swallowed and spoke. “I don’t really know, sir, but I think that it has something to do with making things do what is in their nature.”
    Velnan nodded. “Well said, and partially right.” He turned to the rest of the class. “Magic is the application of natural and unnatural forces upon any given object or situation. Magic is not ‘power’, and never has been. One cannot force an object to do one’s will. Magic is the use of mental energies not to force, but to influence. One uses natural forces to make an object do what is in its nature, and unnatural forces to make an object do what is outside of its nature.”
    The Archmage stared at the class. “I do hope you are writing all of this down.”
    With a start Delgar realized that he had only been listening to the Archmage, and began to furiously write down what he was being told.
    Before he knew it, the class had finished, and the sun was beginning to set. Velnan concluded what he had been telling the class about what they would be studying, and looked at the papers in front of him.
    “Right,” the Archmage said. “I want you all to read the first four chapters of Telemon’s The Magician, and be prepared to write a quiz on them. I will see you all tomorrow. Have a good evening, and enjoy your dinner. Delgar, will you stay a moment, please?”
    Delgar swallowed hard and watched as the students around him filed out of the exits. Velnan put his papers in order, waiting until the lecture hall was empty, and then leaned against one of the chairs.
    “Have you ever had any formal training, Delgar?” he asked.
    Delgar shook his head. A drop of sweat ran down his forehead.
    “Have you ever used any magic?”
    Delgar nodded. “Once, when my village was raided by goblins.”
    “Wild magic,” Velnan muttered. “That’s rare enough.” He looked up at the young student. “Will you relax? I’m not going to murder and eat you. Do you know how you cast your magic in that raid?”
    Delgar shook his head. “No sir.”
    Velnan nodded. “Very well. I don’t want you to cast any magic until the faculty sanctions it. What you have is called ‘wild magic’, and can be very dangerous. Am I clear?”
    “Yes sir.”
    “Good. Now, go and enjoy your dinner, and don’t tell anybody what we discussed.”
    Delgar nodded and left, sighing in relief as he went.


Delgar sat quietly in the feast hall, chewing on some fresh bread. The great room was filled with conversation, but the young man remained quiet. All he wanted to think about was his food and the reading he would have to do for the next day of class. The last thing he wanted to deal with was what Archmage Velnan had told him about wild magic.
    “Do you mind if I join you?” a soft voice said. Delgar looked up to see a young man who looked just a bit older than himself.
    Delgar smiled. “Not at all.”
    The young man placed a plate of food on the table and sat down. He had sandy hair and a thin face, with sparkling blue eyes.
    “You must have made quite the impression on Archmage Velnan,” the young man said.
    Delgar grunted. “I hope to never make that kind of impression again.”
    The sandy haired youth laughed. “Sounds familiar. My name’s Tomlin.” He held out his hand.
    Delgar took it. “Delgar Daegar’s son.”
    “Your accent is a bit odd. Where are you from?”
    “Nordland,” Delgar said. “Where do you come from?”
    “Silvia,” Tomlin replied. “It’s on the western coast of Taerraland. Nordland’s pretty far away.”
    Delgar swallowed a mouthful of beef. “I didn’t have much choice in the matter.”
    “Father made you do it, then?”
    Delgar shook his head. “I prefer not to talk about it.”
    Tomlin stuffed some vegetables into his mouth and swallowed. “Me, I’m a special case. My father is very rich, and he wanted me to learn how to manage the estate. I’m not cut out for lordship though, so I came here. Grabbed some money, took a boat up the Great River, and here I am. Came right through the docks at Taerra.” He sat back with a satisfied grin. “Not too many people with that story.”
    Delgar nodded. “True enough.”
    Tomlin leaned forward, picking his teeth. “Really, what’s your story?”
    “I prefer not to talk about it.”
    “Tell me a bit then. Who’s your sponsor?”
    Delgar looked up and swallowed. “Daelyn.”
    Tomlin shook his head. “You’re joking, right?”
    “No.”
    “By the Eternal One,” Tomlin breathed. “You actually know Daelyn? Wow! What’s he like?”
    “Quiet.”
    “Unlike me,” Tomlin said with a chuckle.
    Delgar laughed.
    “Thought I could get a smile out of you,” Tomlin said. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anybody as quiet or depressed-looking as you, do you know that? Your story must be really sad.”
    Delgar nodded. “My parents and fiancé were killed. Daelyn brought me here and enrolled me.”
    Tomlin sat back, eyes wide. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
    Delgar poked at some of the leftover meat on his plate. “As I said, I prefer not to talk about it.”
    “Maybe some beauty would cheer you up,” Tomlin suggested. At Delgar’s black look, he added: “Natural beauty, I mean. Just south of Silvia there is a huge forest, and every season the leaves are a different color. Well, except for winter, but in the spring and summer the leaves are this radiant green, and in the fall you can’t count the number of hues on both hands, there are so many.”
    “We have pine forests up in Nordland,” Delgar said. “And every winter the snow falls on them and it is the most magnificent thing any mortal man could ever see. I fear your southern forests cannot hold a candle to our northern trees.”
    Tomlin pounded the table. “We shall have to see! Once we’re mages, you will come to my home in Silvia and I will show you our wonderful forests, and then you will take me to Nordland and show me your great woods.”
    Delgar grinned. “That sounds fair enough.”
    Tomlin held up his hand and fingered an ornate gold ring on his ring-finger. “I swear by my family signet I’ll take you to see the forests of Silvia.”
    Delgar nodded. “And I swear by the Eternal One that I will take you to see the forests of Nordland.”
    Tomlin sat back. “Well, that’s settled, then. What are you doing this evening, friend?”
    Delgar chuckled. “Working.”
    “I mean after that.”
    “Sleeping.”
    “Surely you can spend some time with old Tomlin,” Tomlin said. “Maybe on the weekends, at least?”
    “I think I can manage weekends.”
    Tomlin grinned. “You’ll love this city, Delgar. There are theaters with great plays, ale-houses, inns, and if you really want them, lots of women.”
    “I don’t think I’ll be interested in the last one for a while,” Delgar said.
    Tomlin shrugged. “I understand, but I think I can bring you around.”
    “We’ll see.”
    It was the beginning of a routine that Delgar would never regret. Every weekend he and Tomlin would meet and visit a theater or ale-house, and soon he found himself looking forward to the end of the working week and the beginning of the weekend.
    The first term passed quickly, and he found that he had a natural grasp of the material. So, when the first term examination was returned with a ninety percent, neither Delgar nor his teachers were surprised. However, Delgar was one of the lucky ones.
    On the first day of class in the winter term, Delgar sat down beside Tomlin and looked around the classroom. A quarter of the chairs were empty.
    “Where is everybody?” Delgar said, removing his woolen cloak and taking out his notebook.
    Tomlin shrugged. “Maybe Archmage Velnan wasn’t kidding when he said half of us wouldn’t pass.”
    “But only a quarter of us are gone.”
    The class became quiet as Velnan strode into the room, casting off his blue cloak and placing his usual pile of papers on his table. He sat down on the table and glanced at the students.
    “Well,” the Archmage said. “I’m pleased that so many of you passed your first term. Don’t worry about those comrades of yours who didn’t; the Mageschool gives a hearty letter of referral to all of its students when they leave, no matter what their grades. The class average was unexpectedly high: over seventy percent.” He folded his arms. “Now you’re ready to learn, and I think I can call you novices now.
    “Last term we talked about basic magical theory. We talked about what magic is and how it is used. We discussed sources of power, and the gifts of various peoples on Mideorth. Let’s begin by recounting those. Novice Tomlin, what is the gift of the Tuatha de Danaan?”
    Tomlin paused and gazed at the ceiling. “They can travel from world to world, and they have a special connection with nature.”
    Velnan nodded. “Very good. Novice Beltan, what is the gift of the Dwarves?”
    A young, dark haired novice stirred from the back of the class. “They can work the living stone, and they are great warriors.”
    Velnan nodded. “Excellent. Glad to see you were paying attention back there.” He turned to face Delgar. “Magus Draconum, what is the gift of the Dragons?”
    Delgar blinked. “What did you call me?”
    Velnan crossed his arms. “I called you Novice Delgar. What did you think I called you?”
    “Magus Draconum, sir,” Delgar replied, trying to appear as small as possible.
    “Now why would I call you a couple of nonsense words?” Velnan asked. “No matter. Novice Delgar, will you please tell me what the gift of the Dragons is?”
    “Profound wisdom and power,” Delgar replied.
    “Very good,” Velnan said, and turned to face another student. “Novice Melina, what is the gift of the Faeries?”
    Tomlin tapped Delgar on the shoulder. “I like her,” he whispered.
    “Does she like you?” Delgar hissed.
    “I’ll find out this Friday,” Tomlin replied, a sly smile on his rough face. Over the winter Tomlin had decided to grow a beard, and was so far having very little success.
    “The gift of mystery,” Melina said, bringing Delgar’s attention back to the class. Come to think of it, she did have a melodic voice, Delgar thought.
    Velnan nodded. “Very good. Everybody was paying attention; quite a change from last term. Each of these gifts is a kind of magic, even if these races do not understand it themselves. So, we are going to begin this term by discussing these magical powers, and then we are going to learn how the sources of magic actually work. We are going to learn what a spell is and how it is influenced by verbal and mental preparations. You will be prepared to begin your practical magical training when it comes next year.”
    The Archmage took a breath and leaned forward. “And, if you thought that last term was easy, this term you will find to be incredibly difficult. There will be a major test each Monday, and if you fail three tests during the term, you will fail the year and be rejected as a student here.”
    Delgar swallowed. It was going to be a long term.