Sharpening Quills
First Day of the Second Month 293 AC
The sounds of fevered scribbling filled the hall, almost like countless cats' claws scratching some great itch. A fitting thing given the temperament of his fellow students, Moric thought, his own hand moving almost without conscious direction. The thought held nothing of the anger it might once have done. Indeed it was almost fond...
Every single man and woman in this hall had some claim to being in some ways different from his or her fellows, if only in their heads or else they never would have tried their hands at sorcery. Those without ambition to reach for power like onto the legends of old, or the king and his court, quietly excluded themselves before the first instructor had even opened his mouth to question the candidate, much less test them.
Cats the lot of 'em waving their tails about, not mattering if they were back-alley moggies or some pampered highborn's get from the wrong side of the blanket. So, as cats were wont to do, they scratched and hissed and made the odd mess, though never within the halls of the Tower, least Lady Teana take note. No one ever forgot that she was more skilled then most of them could ever know in shaping the shadows that filled these halls.
'The appearance of power is almost as important as power,' she taught alongside the works of sorcery itself, explaining how an initiate could make the best of even the most petty and seemingly harmless magic. By that creed she lived by too, though so far no one had been bold, or insane enough to call her bluff.
"Daydreaming again Moric," a voice whispered from his left.
Mia... Sharp as a tack and just as likely to prick you if you weren't careful.
Being almost ten years older than the speaker, he did not dignify it with any answer beyond a raised eyebrow... partly because he suspected he would lose the verbal exchange with the young Tryoshi-born girl unless she could give it his full attention.
The other cause that made people rub together strangely in the scholarum's halls was the fact that you could not weigh the lore and wisdom one might hold in the simple balance of age. From those who were near-children to Old Hejnor with his flowing beard, all of them were 'initiates' and when they would be rid of that title was for the Lady and mayhaps the King to know and them to wonder. More than a few had bristled when Mia had been the first to reach the second circle of magic, her all of five and ten. Fools the lot of them. The little princess was a child, no 'almost' about it, and she could kill a man dead with a look or mend him from the brink of it.
"...now let's see if you can actually
make the warding ink, we are meant to be mages, not scribes at the end of the day." The brisk command called Moric back to paying full attention to his instructor. Lady Selyse occupied that odd place of being more than an initiate set to check the work of others, but not yet so mighty in her own right as to be a figure of whispered rumor. Still she was personable and patient enough to be respected for it and if nothing else she took things slow and simple.
However in this case Moric did not fully agree with her. Being wizard was like being half scribe, half alchemist and and half painter... being one and a half people, that sounded about right for all the things they were expected to do and do right
every time. Moric took a moment to fix the jest in his mind for later before dutifully setting to his task. He would master magic one day and he would be paid a hell of a lot more than half again what most men make for it.
OOC: Before being windowed out for intelligence and diligence so they can actually use magic all your scholarium students are self-selected for being egotistical enough to think they deserve to use magic which still a mysterious and dangerous thing to people, even if in Sorcerer's Deep they are more likely to trust the mages than in most other places.