"I'm not a student now?" Aeron asked in surprise.
"Of course not. You're a novice-a 'fish,' as we're called. Once you've shown a command of each of the eight disciplines in the novitiate examination, you are allowed to wear the student's tabard and cap." She looked him over and smiled. "I don't suppose you have any idea of what the disciplines are, do you?"
"Abjuration, alteration, conjuration, divination, enchantment, illusion, invocation, and necromancy, Lady Melisanda," Aeron replied. "I know them better by their elven names."
Melisanda raised an eyebrow. "I see you have some learning already. And you don't have to call me 'lady' All novices are equals in the college. You should defer to a student-they're the ones who wear the tabards and caps over their tunics. 'Lady' or 'sir' is appropriate for them. And, of course, show deference to any of the masters. They dress as Telemachon does, although in different colors depending on the discipline they favor."
"I noticed that Telemachon and another master wore hoods," Aeron said. "What does that mean?"
"The hood marks Telemachon as one of the Ruling Council, the High Diviner. The highest master in each discipline sits on the council. I don't know who introduced you to him, but he knew who to talk to. Any one of the High Masters can sponsor new novices just by saying so." She gazed at Aeron in frank appraisal. Aeron shifted his feet nervously. After a long moment, she released him with a curt nod. "Well, come on, fish. I can't afford to spend all day leading you about."
"How many masters, students, and novices are there?"
Melisanda frowned, counting in her mind. "There are nine masters on the Ruling Council, plus another nineteen masters who don't sit on the council. Memorize their names and faces as soon as possible. There are forty-one students right now, and eighty-seven novices. Eighty-eight now, including you."
"Not every novice succeeds in becoming a student?"
"No. About half of the novices can't pass the novitiate examination." She grimaced. "My own examination is scheduled for three weeks from today. I'd hoped to spend the day studying for it. I'm still uncertain of the invocation and necromancy spells I intend to cast."
Leaving the Masters' Hall, Melisanda led Aeron into the open plaza in the center of the college. Over the next hour, she showed him the East and West Halls and the great library in the center of the square. East and West were the college's instruction buildings, filled with classrooms, lecture halls, meeting rooms, and laboratories; since it was now the middle of the afternoon, many of these rooms were in use. Melisanda didn't interrupt any classes or lectures to introduce Aeron, but she quietly pointed out any masters they encountered.
By the time they left West Hall, the blustering wind had increased to gale force, and the temperature had dropped precipitously. They hurried into the last of the college's five buildings, a plain building pitted by row after row of narrow slitlike windows. "The Students' Hall," Melisanda said. "This is your home for as long as you stay here."
The foyer resembled the entrance of the Masters' Hall, but it seemed plainer and brighter. The masters' building was steeped in an air of dignity and reserve, a weight of tradition that brooked no insolence. But the moment Aeron and Melisanda stepped inside the students' quarters, they were nearly bowled over by a pair of novices bounding through the hall, attempting to tag each other with small spheres of colored light-a magician's game of tag.
Aeron caught Melisanda by the arm and dragged her out of the path of a novice. "Is everyone this enthusiastic?"
Melisanda sniffed. "No. Baldon and Eldran appear to have suddenly lost their reason, that's all."
The taller lad was a freckle-faced boy several years younger than Aeron, with an unruly shock of red hair on top of his head. Panting, he skidded to a halt. "Hey, Eldran, look-a new fish! What's your name, fish?"
The other boy spared Aeron a passing glance while he whisked the yellow sphere into Baldon's ribs with a sweeping gesture. The glowing sphere splattered as it struck the taller boy, covering him in a golden halo. "Ha! Gotcha." Satisfied that he'd had the better of the match, he paused to assess Aeron. He was a little younger than Aeron, too, and stood half a head shorter than he.
"Baldon, Eldran, this is Aeron Morieth, from Maerchlin. Aeron, these are two of your hallmates."
"Hallmates?"
"Ha! What a new fish!" Baldon snorted. "How'd you get stuck shepherding this clod around, Melisanda?"
Melisanda shot him a dirty look and then turned her back on the boy. "All the novices and students are divided among the four halls in this building, Aeron. There's an east and west wing, and each has two floors. Hallmates look out for each other. Baldon, Eldran, and I belong to Sword Hall. The others are Crown, Ring, and Scepter."
"So that's why you showed me around. Telemachon sent for one of my hallmates to get me settled in."
Melisanda nodded. "Two of our students graduated recently, so we were due to get some new fish. Come on, we'll show you to your room."
A grand staircase of polished wood swept up from the entry hall, curving into a balcony that ringed the chamber. On one side was a doorway surmounted by a heraldic crest featuring a gilded crown; opposite it, another doorway marked by two crossed swords led into a long corridor. "Sword Hall?" Aeron asked.
Melisanda nodded. They marched about halfway down the hallway past door after door before she halted in front of one, undid the clasp, and pushed it open. The room was about five paces wide, and maybe seven deep; a narrow window looked out over the outside wall and to the barren coasts beyond the city walls. The floor was gleaming hardwood; the furnishings included a small bed, a dresser, a standing chest, a writing desk, and an empty bookshelf. "Your new home," she announced.
"This will do," Aeron said. To be honest, it was a far finer room than any he'd called his own in Maerchlin, but he was determined not to let his hallmates guess the truth. He shrugged his bedroll and pack from his shoulder onto the bed, drifting to the window in amazement. He'd seen too much in one day. Wandering through the city, meeting Telemachon, walking around the College of Mages. . he'd never dreamed how much existed outside the small villages and wide forests of his home.
"Stand to!" barked Baldon. Aeron nearly leapt out of his boots, whirling and raising a hand to defend himself. All three of his companions faced the door, bowing.
In the doorway stood a tall, handsome youth, a red tabard and cap over his gray breeches and white shirt. He leaned against the lintel, surveying the scene, a well-pleased smirk resting on his confident face. His gaze halted on Aeron. "Please don't tell me that this dung-toting peasant is our new fish," he said languidly.
"Yes, sir, Lord Dalrioc," answered Baldon. "He's our new fish, sir."
The young wizard straightened and advanced, a scowl settling over his features. "Haven't they taught you anything yet, fish?"
Aeron noted the inferior pose the others had assumed and realized that Dalrioc expected him to copy them. Awkwardly he did so. "I only arrived today, my lord."
"From what stinking midden heap, I can only imagine," Dalrioc commented. "What idiot let you in here?"
"Master Telemachon."
"And for what possible reason would the High Diviner allow a wretch like you to soil my hall?"
With a conscious effort, Aeron bit back a sharp retort and instead answered, "I'm here to study magic, my lord."
Dalrioc laughed harshly. "By Assuran! Why not teach a pig to sing while we're at it?"
Despite the warning glance Melisanda shot at him, Aeron straightened and looked Dalrioc in the eye. "I've studied some already," he said evenly.