"That's out of the question, Grimm." Dalquist looked uncomfortable, but he carried on. "One thing you will be taught later is that… shall we say, very close relationships with women are forbidden to Guild mages. They say that one kiss dulls the mind and… and anything more serious destroys a mage's power. I very much want to have a family some day, but I cannot until I have paid off my debt. A married mage is an ex-mage, although he can still remain a full Guild member if he so wishes.
"The Guild allows no female incumbents because of the risk of… dalliances amongst the older Students."
Grimm frowned. "What's a dalliance, Dalquist?"
"Well… it's a… it's a special kind of friendship, Grimm. Can we just leave it at that?"
Grimm did not know why Dalquist had become tongue-tied, but he decided not to press the matter. He nodded, despite being none the wiser.
Chapter 10: Magemaster Crohn
Over the next two weeks, Grimm explored every corner of the Scholasticate open to him, until it seemed as if he had spent his whole life there.
He flitted like the shade of a brown mouse through the corridors of the Scholasticate, familiarising himself with its myriad complexities.
Often, he secluded himself in some dusty yet comfortable nook of the Library, finding its marvels inexhaustible. On a few occasions, he played and tussled with some of the older charity Students, but at the age of seven, an age gap of a year or two was a vast chasm. He needed some friends of his own age.
At last, his homesickness began to fade, and he began to think of the Scholasticate as his new home, although he often thought of his grandparents and the smithy in which he had been raised.
Dalquist returned from his Quest a changed man. He carried himself with greater confidence, but he was quieter and reticent to talk about his adventure. His earlier good nature was still apparent, but, from time to time, a dark expression would flash across his face for no clear reason.
Dalquist told Grimm that he would soon be his old self again, but he wished to be alone for a while.
To a small boy, a fortnight can seem like an eternity, but it passed, nonetheless.
On the first day of his magical education, Grimm's solitude was shattered as he moved uneasily through the Scholasticate assembly hall amongst a vast multitude of Students.
The imposing, walnut-panelled hall was enormous, yet it barely seemed able to contain the milling throng of Students, Neophytes, Adepts and mages.
An imposing stage was at one end of the hall, but the Students seemed to know better than to encroach upon it.
Grimm felt like a ship in a stormy sea as he was buffeted through the crowd of chattering, shouting boys. Most of them had a confident air and wore expensive clothes; many had obviously met others of the throng before, and they talked in loud voices of earlier schools and good times so that Grimm felt quite adrift, dizzy and claustrophobic. He had never been comfortable with crowds, and he had never encountered such a horde of people in his life.
He wandered aimlessly around small knots of oblivious boys until his sleeve was tugged by an earnest, energetic lad. The boisterous student wore fine, colourful clothes of blue and red, and an unruly mop of red hair threatened to swamp a pale, freckled face as he was jostled from time by the restless throng.
"You new?" the boy shouted. "Me, too. What's the matter?"
Grimm gesticulated towards the other boys and shrilled, "I don't know anybody here."
"Oh, you don't want to take any notice of this stuck-up lot," yelled the redhead. "I'm called Madar, by the way."
"I'm Grimm Afelnor. I do feel a bit lost. I've never seen so many noisy boys in one place before."
"Oh, they're big-mouths for sure. I've been in Lower School with a lot of these before. Where did you go to school?"
"My gramma taught me at home in Lower Frunstock. She's a teacher." He felt rather small at this admission of lowly birth, eyeing the expensive satin robes that Madar wore with such panache.
Madar snorted. "You're lucky. I hardly ever got to see my family at all. As soon as my Da got rich, he got a bunch of nannies to look after me. I got rid of most of them easy. A frog in their bed, a paint-pot over the door, a spider in their tea; they just screamed and ran out the door. It didn't do any good because Da always got someone else. Usually it was somebody with a harder hand." He put on a mournful expression for Grimm's benefit at this tale of heroic defiance in the face of unbending authority, but Grimm could tell that the outwardly confident Madar was, in reality, as nervous as he.
A loud gong sounded from the stage, and the babble of voices stilled in an instant. Grimm and Madar turned to see an imposing grey-haired figure in white silk robes standing on the dais with a confident air of magisterial authority, his tall mage's staff at his side.
"I bid you welcome to another year in Arnor House Scholasticate," the tall man boomed, every inch the image of a mage.
"For the benefit of those of you who have just joined us, I am Urel Shelit, Mage Illusionist of the Seventh Rank, called the Dream-weaver, Senior Magemaster of the Scholasticate.
"All of those names refer to me. You will find a lot of mages here with many names and titles, many of them among the ranks of our estimable Magemasters. Despite the panoply of appellations, they are still human beings, and you can take your troubles to them. Just be sure that you have genuine problems before you complain; do not bother them with idle chit-chat, at your peril!
"All of you are here for a minimum of seven years; charity pupils for as long as twenty-two. I know that seems a mighty gulf of time, but I can assure you that you will find your time so full that the years will seem to fly past.
"I spent seven years here as a Student, nine as a Neophyte and thirty-five as an Adept before I was finally elevated to the First Rank of my calling; it was the proudest day of my life.
"If you work hard and persevere, you may one day feel the same joy and the warm embrace of an ancient and mighty brotherhood that I felt on that day, so long ago. I bid you welcome to this House, and I wish you success and happiness here.
"To the older hands here: welcome back. This new scholastic year will bring new challenges, new opportunities and new responsibilities. Work hard and make us proud, as you have done before."
Urel's speech went on for nearly three hours, including references to each section of the crowd, which showed that the Senior Magemaster was someone who cared deeply for his charges, and who took deep interest in the day-to-day events in the Scholasticate; he was evidently also a man with a keen eye who missed little. Grimm might have appreciated the speech more had his legs not begun to develop a fierce ache, and had he understood more of what the mage was saying.
At the end of the speech, Senior Magemaster Urel received a raucous but good-natured accolade from the older Students and Neophytes, steering a close, careful course around the border of the onerous House rules on comportment. The mages and Adepts confined themselves to respectful applause, which was almost drowned in the noise.
As Urel finished his speech and departed, the loud hubbub started again. Doorkeeper, who had been standing by the hall door for the whole performance, clapped his leathery hands and rapped the base of his staff on the wooden floor of the hall. He pulled back his shoulders and, with some effort, managed to stand fully erect. This added six inches to his height, and Grimm realised that the ancient mage was even taller than he thought.
"Come on, boys, stand still. Get into line, do: you know the routine. Chop, chop," he cried. Doorkeeper's booming voice carried through the hall with ease, but to little immediate effect. Some Students stopped talking, others carried on chatting to their friends, but, at last, all moved into slack, ragged lines and the volume of chatter decreased a little.