James Galloway - The Tower of Sorcery

He placed the pack in the chest at the foot of his bed. The clothes in the pack were his sturdy leather clothes, and he wanted to keep them. A bit of cutting with a knife or claw would free up a place for his tail in his pants, and that was all that really mattered. He took off the robe and dressed in the Novice's clothes that had been left for him, and hung his robe on the wall on the peg. Then he went to his staff.

The sturdy Ironwood showed not a sign of any duress, but that was usual for it. It took something like a blazing inferno to mark Ironwood. It seemed almost feather-light to him now, but he could feel every indentation on the wood intimately, and it felt just the same as he remembered. He was just stronger, and that made the very heavy wood feel lighter. His hands were now paws, and were much larger. He knew he'd have to practice with the staff to get used to the different grips he'd need to use it, now that his hands were so different. And learn how to use his natural weaponry in harmony with it.

The door opened. Tarrin stood by the bed calmly, staff in paw, and regarded the young man that entered. He was a bit tall for his age, which looked to be around fifteen, and he had the dark, swarthy skin that marked him as an Arksian. His hair was black as pitch, long and done up in an attractive side-parted style, and his eyes were a rich almond brown, almost like amber. He too wore the white shirt and brown pants of a Novice, and he had a book in his hand. "They told me that you may be here," he said calmly. "I'm Dar, Dar Ulthan," he introduced. "I'm your roommate."

"I'm Tarrin," he replied calmly.

"They asked me to show you around," he said. "We can do that after lunch, if you want."

"Lunch sounds very good at the moment," Tarrin said with a smile.

"Well, if we're going to eat, we'd best get moving," he said. "They don't let stragglers eat."

Tarrin put the staff back in the corner and followed the tall, lanky young man out.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

"Aldreth."

"Where?"

"A village about as far from Suld as you can get without leaving Sulasia," he replied.

"I'm from Arkhold, in Arkis," he returned.

"What brought you all the way here?"

"My parents are in the spice trade," he explained. "Merchants who are educated in the Tower tend to do better, and my parents want me to keep up what they've built."

"Educated? I thought that the school they have here would have been in some other building."

"The Initiates stay in other towers," he said, "but we Novices are here."

"Why do they all wear different colors?" he asked curiously.

"The Initiates? It's their rank," he replied. "Except the ones that wear brown. Initiates who wear brown aren't Sorcerers, they're just the advanced people in the school. They're here in the Tower too, in the levels above the library."

"Which way will you go?"

"I don't know yet," he said. "All I've learned so far is history and geography, and they've taught me about fifty different ways to add two and two together," he said ruefully. "But they haven't given me the Test yet." He led Tarrin down another passageway. "I'm not entirely sure which way I want to go. Seeing the Sorcerers here, it's made me interested in what they do. But if I do end up learning Sorcery, it's bound to make my parents very mad. They're paying alot of money to send me here. But, on the other hand, if I do have talent, they don't have to pay anymore," he said with a smile.

"Hmm," he mused. "My parents weren't quite so lucky. They made me come here."

"The Test?" he asked.

Tarrin nodded.

"I didn't know they tested Wikuni."

"I'm not Wikuni, and I wasn't like this when they tested me," he told him.

"I wasn't sure," he admitted with a short laugh. "I know alot of Wikuni from when my parents bargain with them, and you don't look like any Wikuni I've ever seen. But you look almost like one. I thought maybe you were a deformed Wikuni."

"No," he assured him. "I'm a Were-cat."

"Truly?" he said in wonder. "Then none of the stories I've heard of the Were-people are true, are they?"

"Probably not," he said. "Well, the part about biting is true," he added somberly.

"That's how it happened?"

He nodded. "It was just one of those dumb things," he said. "I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." That much was true, to a certain degree. If he'd chosen another bedchamber, it would have been Walten, or Tiella. Or maybe even Faalken or Dolanna. Or maybe nobody.

"You took it better than I would have," he said. "I'd still be screaming."

"I'm over that now," he said. "It's actually not that bad, once you get used to it."

"I'd rather not find out," he said.

"Smart man," Tarrin agreed. "The getting used to it is not pleasant."

"I didn't think it would be." They went through a door, and entered a huge room, much like a grand hall. There were tables and benches aligned in orderly rows in the center, with a single table on a raised dais on the far end of the room. There were already a great many people in the room, and almost all of them were sitting quietly at the tables, where a myriad of different foods sat and waited. The smells of them made his stomach growl. Sitting at the table on the dais were several men and women wearing assorted dresses, shirts, doublets, and robes, but Elsa was seated firmly in the center of the table facing the assembled Novices. Dar led them to the closest empty seats, and he had them sit down fast. "Anyone standing once the Mistress starts the meal prayer is sent away hungry," he explained in a very low whisper.

Tarrin nodded calmly, taking in the nervous reactions of the other Novices seated near and around Tarrin. They all couldn't help stare at him, but they tried to make it inconspicuous. He decided that ignoring them would be the best thing to do. Not an arm's reach away, a large platter of roasted ham sat, almost taunting him. It was a tremendous act of will not to reach out and take it.

"Everyone stand!" Elsa's booming voice called across the hall. All the Novices stood respectfully and bowed their heads. Tarrin endured a short little speech from Elsa, where she invoked the blessing of some Goddess on the meal, but Tarrin didn't listen to her. He was more interested in hearing her voice stop than he was listening to her speak. When the Novices began to take their seats, he realized that Elsa had stopped talking. He sat down with Dar, and when he saw several people reach for platters of beef, or pork, or a bowl of potatos, he knew that it was time to eat.

He graciously let everyone else take what they wanted off the platter he was eyeing, then he reached out and took the entire platter. "Anyone else want any of this?" he asked pointedly, holding it out. When nobody answered, he pushed his own plate away and set the platter in its place. He looked at the small-handled fork by the plate with a bit of annoyance, and instead used the large serving fork that was on the platter. It had a handle large enough for him to use. The knife too was too small, but the claw on the index finger of his free hand was more than capable of being a substitute for a knife. The razor-sharp tip of his claw neatly sliced up the meat to his liking, then he used the serving fork to get it to his mouth. Someone poured fresh, chilled milk into a pewter mug that was beside him, and then that person moved down to do the same with Dar's mug. He was more interested in the food, however, and he managed to finish off the entire platter of roasted ham, which had enough ham on it to feed five. Dar gave him a rather wild look as he pushed the platter away and took a drink of milk. "Do you always eat that much?" he asked.

"Not always, but I'd been moving without eating much before I got here," he replied. "I'm just catching up on missed meals."