James Galloway - The Tower of Sorcery

"I really don't care," he snorted. "I'm not here to lick her slippers."

"That kind of attitude will create trouble for you, dear one," Dolanna warned. "It is not demeaning to give to others the respect that they deserve."

"When she proves she deserves it, I'll give it to her," he grunted. "Dolanna, thanks. I do feel alot better now. I was really afraid that something was going to happen."

"We shall see, young one, and you are welcome," she said. "Now, since you cannot practice, I suggest you learn. In the South Tower, there is another library. The real one, which holds the books that the Lorefinders study and the lore of magic and theory that we keep out of the hands of the Novices. Go there, and read. Learn. There is much you can learn by reading, even if you cannot practice."

"Nobody ever told me about that."

"And why do you think that is?" she asked pointedly.

"Oh, because they don't want to contaminate the process of learning how to touch the Weave," he realized.

"Precisely. But since you already have mastered that task, you cannot be contaminated by reading about the experiences of others. Go there and learn, my dear one. It will do you good."

"They'll let me in?"

"Yes. You wear Initiate red, and that is all you will need to gain entrance."

"I'll do it, Dolanna. Thank you."

"No thanks are needed, my dear one," she smiled.

He touched her cheek with his paw, taking in her beauty, realizing again now much the small woman meant to him, then he took his leave of her.

He didn't like the idea of the Tower meddling in his affairs, but Dolanna was right. He needed to learn how to control whatever happened to him before it killed him, and if that meant allowing people he perceived as enemies to do it, then so be it. Better to take the hand of an enemy then refuse it and jump blindly into death. The Cat was a survivor, and it wouldn't let him refuse a chance to live. It was a survivor, and would not allow his human pride or distrust to interfere with the need to survive.

Blinking, Keritanima focused her eyes again, following the intricacies of the Weave that Lula was using. She sat on a bench in the garden, for unlike most instructors, Lula was a plump, matronly woman who had the soul of a Druid. She loved the outdoors and the gardens, and she much preferred to bring her students out into the greenery of the garden than keep them cooped up in the small, cramped rooms used for the initial touch. She told the Princess that she felt she had control of her ability, so they spent their days sitting on benches surrounded by the rainbow of color of the gardens. Keritanima had to admit, being in such a soothing environment helped her to learn as Lula started showing her multiflow weaves. The one she was doing right now was a mixture of fire and air, a small ball of yellow light that hovered over her palm. "Can you see how they go together, dear?" she asked. Lula called everyone "dear" or "sweetheart" or "love", even though she knew Keritanima's name. The Brat Princess had made her name, title, and pedigree very plain to the woman quickly, but she just pushed all that aside like it was dust to sweep under the carpet and treated her like a little girl. Neither Keritanima or the Brat quite knew how to take that. The woman was absolutely fearless, and she treated Keritanima like her daughter's best friend rather than an Initiate. The woman was a mystery that the Brat took to immediately, but Keritanima found almost hopelessly puzzling. "Now, by adjusting the flow of fire, we can make the light change color," she said, tweaking the weave hovering over her hand just a bit, making the ball shift from yellow to blue. "Alright dear, now it's your turn."

Narrowing her eyes, Keritanima touched the Weave and felt the power flow into her. Touching the Weave was something that was easy for her, almost natural, and she was shocked that some Sorcerers took months to master such a simple thing. She drew in fire and air, and them pushed them out into the area over her furred hand. Her amber eyes flickered quickly as they watched the flows begin to intertwine, until a small, dim ball of bluish-green light appeared over her hand. "Not bad dear, but you need a bit more air and less fire," Lula told her. Keritanima's brows lowered as she did as Lula ordered, until the ball grew in size and intensity, and then shifted to a solid sky-blue color. "Very good, dear," she said with a bright smile. "Can you make it change to red?"

Narrowing her eyes down to slits, she considered the request. It was a test, she was sure of it. She had to increase the flow of fire to go from yellow to blue, but what would require going from blue to red? Well, they were all colors of fire. Yellow fire was hot. Blue fire was actually the hottest, the kind of fire she'd seen in the Royal forges and foundries. But red fire…that had to be the coolest. The fringes of a fire were always red. Decreasing the flow of fire entering the weave, she watched as it slowly shifted colors from blue to white to yellow to an orange-rust color, and then finally to red. "Very good, dear," she praised. "Now, how would you make it brighter without changing its color?"

"Increase both flows proportionately?" she asked in reply.

"Why don't you try it and see," she winked.

Keritanima did, increasing the energy in both flows, and the effect was striking. The small ball suddenly became almost painfully bright, and also expanded in size. "Very good dear, but remember that working with flows is always a very precise business," Lula told her. "That was too much. You have to go in small steps, dear, small steps."

Dimming it to a less eye-straining radiance, Keritanima looked at Lula and almost beamed. It was so, wonderful , working with Sorcery. It was hard to stay in character. The Brat would never look to her instructor with such respect and a desire for praise. But then again, Lula had that effect on people. It was probably why they had chosen her to introduce Keritanima to the Weave.

"I must say," a nasal voice called from behind, "that this is not at all what I expected to see."

The little ball suddenly exploded in a blinding flash, as Keritanima lost control of the weave. She whirled around on the seat and found herself staring at a rather ridiculous-looking rabbit Wikuni. His head was dominated by the large ears on top of his head, pink nose, whiskers, and a pair of large front teeth. His fur was a whitish gray all over, and a pair of pink eyes stared out from behind a pair of wire-frame spectacles. He wore a plain blue waistcoat with a leather belt holding up a pair of blue pants. A vest covered a white shirt under the waistcoat, into which was tucked the chain of a pocket watch, a technological marvel of the kingdom of Taiga, on the southwestern continent. The expression on the face was plain, almost dull, as if the mind behind those eyes reflected its rather foppish exterior. That couldn't be any further than the truth. Jervis, head spy for his Majesty, Damon Eram, king of Wikuna, was probably the crown's most experienced and competent gatherer of hidden knowledge. Probably one of the best in the world. Jervis used his rather ridiculous appearance as a weapon, which hid his true ability and also his lethal abilities. Jervis often was tasked to eliminate threats to the crown, and that required an assassin's touch. Jervis had that touch.

"Highness," he said with a fluid bow. "I believe that his Majesty sent you here for an education. This is not the education he expected you to receive."

"That the girl has considerable talent in Sorcery was blind luck, sir," Lula told him. "I take it you know him, dear?"

"He works for my father," Keritanima said in a bored voice. "He's here to make sure I don't get any silly ideas."

"Allow me to introduce myself, madam. I am Jervis, head ambassador to the Tower while our jewel is in your tender care." He bowed to her extravagantly, his whiskers twitching and his eyes dancing with delight.