For Delgar, the summer passed too quickly. He enjoyed his job in the library, but it ended with the coming of autumn, and it was time to begin his studies again.
    However, between the end of his job and the beginning of class, he had two weeks to prepare himself. Velnan had come to him at the beginning of those two weeks and told him what he needed to purchase, where to find it, and how much it would cost. He had also told Delgar to relax while he could; the second year of schooling would be twice as hard as the first one.
    And so, it was on a sunny and pleasant day that Delgar saw her. He was sitting with Tomlin in front of one of the large, limestone halls of the Mageschool, a bag of books beside him, watching the new students arrive. They filled the courtyard, so thick they almost hid the large trees. Around them the other buildings bustled with activity. Delgar smiled; he remembered all too well what it was like when he was one of the pre-novices.
    “I think he’s from Barsh,” Tomlin said, pointing at one dark skinned student following a master. “I’ve heard that the desert nomads have skin like that.”
    “He could also come from the mountains of southern Pakaria,” Delgar suggested. “That’s pretty close to Barsh.”
    “Look at him, though,” Tomlin said. “He walks like a nomad. I’ll bet he even talks like one. Some of those nomad Amirs can be pretty rich. He’s probably a prince of some sort.”
    Suddenly, Tomlin’s eyes lit up, and he stood and waved. “Jenara! Over here!”
    Delgar looked around. “Who?”
    A slim, raven haired beauty jogged over from the other side of the crowd to join them. She had deep, grey eyes and a pleasant smile on her face. She grinned at Tomlin, and then looked at Delgar. For a moment they stared at each other, Delgar lost in the depths of her eyes.
    “I never thought you’d actually be able to make it,” Tomlin said, a huge smile on his face. “Parents finally say yes?”
    Jenara tore herself away and laughed, a musical sound that had Delgar grinning in delight. “They did, but I think at the behest of your father. He said something about me talking some sense into you.”
    Tomlin shook his head. “I’ll surprise him yet! I’ll talk the sense into him, once I graduate. Jenara, I want you to meet Delgar Daegar’s son, from Nordland. He had the gall to get a better mark than me last year. Delgar, this is my cousin, Jenara.”
    Delgar took her hand and kissed it. “It is a pleasure and an honor.”
    Jenara smiled graciously. “Likewise.”
    “Delgar is one of those rare students who comes here at an early age,” Tomlin said. “Got in two years early. He’s only sixteen; a young pup!”
    Jenara sat beside Delgar and chuckled. “Then I guess I am rare too. I’m also sixteen.”
    Tomlin did his best to try to look old and decrepit. “And I’m special too: I’m ancient. These young whippersnapper Archmages, why, in my day...”
    As Delgar laughed, his heart seemed strangely lighter, but there was an odd familiarity about the conversation. He gazed at Jenara’s supple features, yet he couldn’t place where he had seen her before. Finally, he shook his head, a grin on his face. No matter; it was probably nothing more than a dream anyway.
    “I have to go, Tomlin,” she said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I still have to unpack.” With that, she skipped off into the crowd.
    Tomlin looked at Delgar, a wide grin on his face. “You like her.”
    “She’s nice,” Delgar conceded.
    “You should go for her.”
    Delgar blinked. “What?”
    Tomlin frowned. “Look, you can’t stay dead inside forever.”
    “I’m just biding my time.”
    “Until what? Lera comes back from the grave?”
    Delgar stood silent for a moment.
    Tomlin shook his head. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have said that. Regardless, I saw the way she looked at you and you looked at her. It won’t hurt, and I’m sure if Lera could look down on you she would approve.”
    “Maybe,” Delgar finally said.
    Tomlin patted him on the shoulder. “Good man. Just don’t wait long. Girls like her don’t stay available for too long.”

“Concentrate, Delgar,” Velnan said, staring at the potted plant.
    Delgar focused on the green leaves, but Jenara’s image kept appearing in his mind. The small fern fluttered quietly as his concentration slipped away.
    “You’re distracted.”
    Delgar nodded sadly. “Yes sir.”
    “Look, we’re only half a term away from the winter examinations. You have to be able to do all of this.”
    Delgar nodded.
    Velnan sat back and crossed his arms. He glanced out the window of the laboratory, watching the clouds scud across the sky.
    “I’m sorry, sir,” Delgar said. “I just can’t get Jenara out of my mind.”
    “Love is a wonderful thing, Master Delgar,” Velnan said. “But only in small doses. Now, review: what are the three principles of magic?”
    “Harmony, concentration, and discipline,” Delgar stated.
    Velnan nodded. “Excellent. And what is the most important?”
    “Discipline.”
    “Correct. So, clear your mind.”
    Delgar closed his eyes, forcing Jenara’s face from his mind. He forgot the date last night, the bounce in her step, and the other young man who was making eyes at her.
    He opened his eyes. Velnan and the potted plant lay before him.
    “Now,” Velnan said. “How do you influence natural forces?”
    “First, become one with the object,” Delgar replied.
    “Good. Become one with the fern.”
    Delgar reached out with his mind, sensing the plant’s life. He felt the warm heat of the sunlight on the leaves, bringing more life into the slight veins. As he felt the very essence of the plant, a warmth flooded through him. He gasped in ecstacy; he felt so wonderfully alive.
    Velnan grinned. “Excellent! Now, what do you do next?”
    “Examine the forces,” Delgar said, mentally reaching out again. He opened his eyes, and saw the life forces winding around the stem of the fern, spreading over the leaves like a silky spiderweb. The connection to the sunlight and the earth stretched out before him, reaching up to the heavens and down into the ground. In a crystal moment, he realized how easily he could shape them.
    “And then what?” Velnan asked.
    “Manipulate them,” Delgar answered, beginning to strengthen the life forces around the plant. He extended the force deeper into the ground, and then reached into the heavens and intensified the sunlight. The fern began to grow before him, sprouting new leaves and basking in the nourishment provided by his power.
    Delgar blinked. “I did it!”
    Velnan nodded, a slight smile on his face. “Yes, and it only took you two months. Not bad for a beginner, but you must become much better. What else should you have done?”
    Delgar shook his head, stifling a yawn. “I don’t know. I feel...tired.”
    “Not surprising,” Velnan said. “This was the first time you ever actually used your powers under controlled circumstances. Now, you did not keep a steady control on the growth of the fern. I had told you two inches, and you gave it four. The leaves are not nice and orderly, which I also asked for. You need more practice.”
    “Yes sir.”
    Velnan sighed. “Look, I really mean it. Just because you did well in theory does not mean you can coast through your practical studies. Spend less time with your girlfriend-”
    “She’s not my girlfriend,” Delgar interrupted.
    “-whatever she is, and practice. Two hours a day, at least.”
    Delgar nodded. “Yes sir,” he said unhappily.
    “Master Delgar, there is a place for love,” Velnan said. “Don’t let it out of its place. Now go; you have practicing to do.”
    Delgar gathered his books and walked out of the room. As he strode down the tall, limestone hallways, he reviewed his triumph in his mind. He had done it! He had made the plant grow! He couldn’t wait to tell Jenara.
    Jenara’s face popped into Delgar’s mind, and all thoughts of studying vanished like smoke. She had time this evening, and they could spend the entire evening together. Practice could wait, after all; the plant wasn’t going anywhere, was it?


Delgar and Jenara sat on the hill just outside of the Mageschool walls, staring at the full moon. He gazed at her wonderful face, watching her grey eyes dance in the moonlight.
    Delgar wondered what she was thinking. She had sat with some boy in her theory class for dinner, and he hadn’t felt it right to intrude. But he had wanted to walk over and declare her for himself and himself alone. Instead he watched her laugh at the boy’s jokes, every chuckle making him feel ill.
    Could he tell her what was on his mind? Did he dare? What about that boy, whatever his name was? Delgar shook his head. What was she thinking? Was it anything like what he was?
    “Bastion asked me to the Taerra Farmer’s dance,” Jenara said. “I don’t know if I’ll go or not.”
    Delgar blinked. Was it his imagination, or did she sound uncertain as she spoke? Suddenly, something Tomlin had said came to mind: Just don’t wait long. Girls like her don’t stay available for too long.
    For a chilling moment, he knew what Tomlin was talking about. If he didn’t act, he would lose her. She wouldn’t wait around forever, and that Bastion boy was bigger and more handsome than he was. Bile rose in his throat. He swallowed, forced it down, then began to speak.
    “Um, Jenara, don’t go. I, um...” He cut off, cursing himself silently. Why was it so damned hard to say what he meant, especially when it was this important?
    “I’m listening,” Jenara said. Delgar found himself lost in her intense eyes.
    Just say what you mean, Delgar told himself. He took a deep breath. “Look, I’m afraid of losing you. You are so wonderful that I don’t want to be without you. And this is really hard to say, so please don’t go out with him. Go out with me instead.”
    Delgar turned away, blinking back tears. You damned, awkward fool!
    Suddenly, Jenara was there, holding him closely, her eyes brimming with tears of her own. For a wonderful moment they held on to each other as though they were a solitary island in the great river of the world.
    Finally they disengaged and walked arm in arm back into the Mageschool. Delgar whistled a happy tune; for the first time since he had left Nordland he felt whole again.

    
Daelyn read the report card with interest, and then handed it back to Chancellor Berran. The Tuatha de Danaan leaned back in his chair, gazing at the stone ceiling.
    “As you can see,” Velnan said, “your charge nearly failed this term. And, if he continues like this, he won’t survive the end of the year.”
    “I am at a loss,” Berran said, leaning forward. “Delgar is such a fine student, but this reversal in his fortunes, why, it is almost as if he has stopped trying.”
    Daelyn opened his eyes and glanced around. Chancellor Berran, Vice-Chancellor Vertanus and Archmage Velnan stared back at him.
    “Did you see his wyrd,” Daelyn said. “This was part of it.”
    “I haven’t see it,” Berran said.
    “I have,” Daelyn stated. “I do have some druidic training, after all. The question is how do we get him out of this rut. Could his wild magic be interfering with his studies?”
    Vertanus shook his head. “The only time a student has ever been retarded by wild magic is when he keeps using it; Delgar’s case is the reverse.”
    “What about living conditions?”
    “You know better than to ask about those,” Berran said. “We have always had a high standard of student living.”
    “Study time?”
    “Plenty,” Velnan said. “If only he wouldn’t spend it all with that Jenara girl, he would be fine.”
    Daelyn blinked. “Jenara girl?”
    “A novice student,” Velnan stated. “Average grades, but gifted.”
    “And Delgar is spending all of his time with her?” Daelyn pressed.
    “Yes.”
    Daelyn began to laugh, and then he laughed harder when the three Archmages looked at him in mystification.
    The Tuatha de Danaan shook his head. “Both the problem and solution are perfectly obvious. You are all too old for your own good; you’ve forgotten how to be young. Delgar, my dear Archmages, is in love.”
    “So should we remove this impediment?” Berran asked.
    Daelyn shook his head. “It is no impediment, my dear Berran. If Delgar is as deeply in love as I think he is, he will do anything this ‘Jenara’ asks him to.” He paused for effect. “Even study.”
    Vertanus pounded his forehead with his fist. “I’ve been so blind!”
    Daelyn looked at him. “Sorry?”
    “I’m getting married in three years,” Vertanus explained. “I should have seen this immediately.”
    Berran blinked. “That’s a long engagement. Who’s the lucky girl?”
    “Her name is Marissa,” Vertanus said. “She’s a diplomat in Barsh; we’re having the wedding once she returns from her assignment.”
    Daelyn stood and took up his cloak. “Well, I think you have the situation in hand now. I believe you will find the route to Delgar’s heart is through Jenara, and I suggest you use it. Good day.”
    Daelyn chuckled as he walked through the hallowed halls of the Mageschool. These mortals could be so blind at times, but it was endearing. He just hoped that his advice would help; Delgar’s wyrd had predicted great events, and the young man needed to be ready when they arrived.
    Time was short, and it was growing shorter.