Alastair Archibald - A mage in the making

The novelty of Grimm's new voice wore off after a few days. Within a week, he had some control at least over his normal speaking voice, although singing was still a major problem.

After a few months more, several other boys' voices began to break, and Grimm was no longer alone in his affliction. Indeed, those whose voices remained high and childish began to be the butt of humour, the more so when Grimm and others began to sport beards of one kind or another.

The boys were allowed to wear beards, on the condition that they were maintained in good order. Grimm's beard grew like a patchy black bush, and he had to spend an inordinately long time tending and grooming it each day. It was a badge of manhood to be worn with pride; many of the other boys could muster only a sparse sprinkling of downy fluff on their cheeks.

Crohn warned of growing physical urges that might afflict the boys, and he taught them further meditation exercises to overcome the problem.

Stern lectures were given on vague subjects such as "pollution of the body and mind"-this 'pollution' was never defined in any specific detail-and "unnatural abuses". Any boy caught giving in to these urges would be dismissed at once, since it was evident that such people did not have the mastery of will necessary to become mages. Most of the Students feigned bafflement at what these practices might be, but the stern and imperturbable Crohn seemed remarkably reticent on the subject. All noted with glee his stammer and his red face when any Student pressed him on the matter, as they often did. For once, they had found a chink in the formidable Magemaster's armour, and they assaulted it with ruthless, boyish cruelty at every opportunity.

Kargan told the boys that those who had already found and mastered their adult voices would be but a step away from being considered for early elevation to the rank of Neophyte, with all the advantages and privileges the title bestowed. The possible rewards of advancement, when compared to the prospect of remaining a humble Student for another two years gave Grimm the determination to persevere with his new, unmelodious voice.

At times, he believed that he had gained full control of his wayward vocal cords, especially when he had carried a tune or a chant to the end without any error. However, on many occasions, when tasked by Kargan to attempt a more difficult chant, Grimm would find that his voice betrayed him at some critical juncture. At these times, Kargan would sigh and give a small shake of the head. At least Grimm was more fortunate than Madar, who all but lost his splendid voice in its entirety; for a while, he was quite inconsolable. All he could offer was a breathy growl in place of his once excellent treble.

Argand was luckiest of all. His voice descended in short order to an impressive, booming bass register, although it was no more tuneful than before. He also grew prodigious amounts of hair on his face, chest and arms to the envy of many other boys and, his beard was stronger, faster-growing and more complete than those of the other boys. A beard was the mark of a man in the Scholasticate, and it was clear Argand was a boy no longer. Whilst Grimm's beard grew quickly enough, it refused to take root around the pale margins of his lower lip, a constant frustration to him.

Shumal and Ruvin, who still swaggered around the Scholasticate like arrogant twins, seemed to be bound together even in the matter of bodily maturity. They retained their soprano voices, smooth skin and puppy fat long after Grimm had mastered both his beard and his new voice. This reduced their menacing presence even more in his eyes. With new respect from the less mature boys, Grimm felt that he was becoming accepted almost as an equal by the rest of the class.

At last, the day came when Kargan pronounced himself satisfied that Grimm had regained full control of his singing; the Student now possessed a voice capable of ranging from a smooth baritone to a confident tenor. Grimm did not feel that it was nearly as good as his former, cut-glass treble had been, but, at least, he had to acknowledge that he could sing in tune again.

By now, many more boys had lost their soprano voices and were struggling themselves, and Grimm felt some inner satisfaction at this. Madar was still having a bad time of it, and Grimm had often to console his friend and encourage him to persevere.

"Come on, Madar, it's not the end of the world. You always said singing was a chore, anyway. It's just a bit more of a chore now."

"I lied," Madar croaked. "Music was the one thing I was really good at. Bugger it! My old man'd be laughing his head off if he knew." He was close to tears, something that Grimm had never seen before in his self-confident friend.

"Oh, just go on doing your creaking-door imitation if you want to, then!" Grim snapped. "It's something we've all got to get through, Madar. Stop moaning and practice; otherwise your old man'll really have a reason to laugh."

"Oh all right then, Grimm, I'll have a go at it, but only 'cause you asked," Madar grumbled. "I just hate Kargan's idea of having to go around in my free time, caterwauling like a reject from the Royal Academy of Useless Bards."

On the other hand, Argand's voice improved by a considerable amount, although the finer nuances of the most difficult chants were still as a closed book to him. Due to his considerable artistic and calligraphic talents, he was given extra tuition in Scribing, and his vocation appeared settled. Argand was the first of Grimm's year to be declared a Neophyte, much to everybody's surprise.

Grimm was now given individual training in the summoning and holding of power, although still without any direct application to spellcasting. This gave him great satisfaction; not least for the fact that the tutoring sessions took him away from the class increasingly often. He had been placed under the personal tuition of Magemaster Crohn, who trusted him to study as he was bidden when the Senior Magemaster was absent. Madar, having gained at last full control of his new voice, was placed under Magemaster Kargan. The boys enjoyed the arrangement, because they only met the Magemasters for a few minutes a day to be assigned study topics and to receive work assessments. The new class Magemaster was the taciturn and sarcastic Magemaster Faffel, so Grimm was heartily glad that he and Madar only had to join the rest of the class for Herbalism, music, dancing and the other non-magical activities.

Crohn placed a feather on the table in front of Grimm. The Magemaster and his pupil were sitting on uncomfortable, tall stools in a bleak, unheated room in a deserted part of the Scholasticate. It was a cold winter day, and Grimm wished he were almost anywhere else.

"Make the chant of Levity for light objects in the third instance," Crohn commanded. With the ease born of endless practice, Grimm produced the necessary singsong chant. Nothing happened.

"You see," Crohn said, "the chant does not speak to the feather. To what should it speak?"

"To my mind," Grimm replied, suppressing the urge to sneeze. "The chant is not the spell, but a device to pattern my mind and my power to achieve the desired effect."

"That is correct, as far as your answer goes," Crohn said. "The textbook answer, if a little glib. Nonetheless, however suitable rote learning may be as an aid to memory, it is no substitute for true understanding. Let us see what more you can deduce. You have already learnt to see another's power, and you know how it changes form when turned to true magic. You must learn to feel your own power so that you can allow the chant to shape it for the spell. It is not sufficient to control and gather your power as you have done before. The chant must be directed to the power, the power to the effect, and the effect to the object. Watch me, and pay attention to my aura."