[FY/PR] Duality Ch. 1-6 Up (UPDATE! 10-20-07)

[Leavaros]

When we entered the Towers, I was surprised to find that it was very warm inside. I commented on this to Master, and on the lack of a visible fireplace, and Master only smiled. He told me that I should not think for a moment that the only advantage to being a Mage is being able to wear robes in public, and to this I rolled my eyes and sighed. My Master and his multitasking. I corrected myself mentally, his passive multitasking.

He lead me down a different corridor than we had gone through the night before, and we ended up in a slightly cluttered room. A big lady sat in a huge wooden chair behind a plain oak desk, recognizable as such only by the thick brown legs that held it up. She sighed and shook her head when Master came in. "Late as usual, Magister Nova."

Master smiled at her, and swept his hand under hers, stealing a kiss. "Margot, you get lovelier each time I see you." I wondered at the same time if his lips would get worty from kissing such a toady lady, and how bad she could have been last time.

She smiled at him, and I realized that she wasn't such a bad person. Just...annoyed? Well, I could get annoyed with Master, too, sometimes, and he did say to try and give everyone the benefit of the doubt. I ended up smiling in response to Master's overdone theatrics and her warm tolerance of him. In fact, she reminded me a lot of him as she sorted papers and dipped her pen in ink and scrawled something Master said on a piece of paper.

"I've told you a thousand times to call me Marge, you old buzzard!" But she smiled as she said it, and belted out a laugh. "I had heard you were back, but that was only this morning. I wish I'd not been in the Library when you arrived, but what can you do? Someone's got to do the bookwork, and no one can ever do it right. I left to visit my niece in Gadolia--oh, she's just the prettiest little thing, just got married to one of those westerners, a beautiful boy with light skin and dark hair, a lot like this one"--here she pointed at me with her quill--"but older and so handsome! Oh, Nova, their children will be so beautiful--anyway, I left for a month and the whole damn place falls apart! People going missing in the directory, new Magisters not being added in, names and titles not being changed, and stored correctly--one day I found a 'Q' in the 'C' section. A 'Q'! The nerve of people." Master echoed it in mock horror at the transgression, and Magistra Margot nodded a number of times, quick, fierce little nods. "Why, I'm going to have to keep a firmer line with my interns and Apprentices, or when I'm gone the whole Campus will be in chaos!"

Master exclaimed, "Oh, no, Margot! Never that! Don't even say such a thing!"

"Well it's bound to happen sooner or later!" She snapped. "And don't call me Margot!"

"I get it now." I said to myself and nodded twice. Master looked at me expectantly, and even Magistra Margot stopped in her tirade against disorganization for a moment. Master coaxed it out of me, asking what I understood. I looked at him, and then at her, then down at my feet, and finally at her again before saying anything. Then I said quietly, "You may not be beautiful. You may not always show your kindness and caring for others in ways that they understand--though Master does, rather well, I think. You might not get the attention and the respect you deserve all the time." Her face got darker and darker with each statement, and I thought she would yell at me. "Hear me out, please." I looked directly at her, and continued. "But without you, Magistra Margot, the Campus would be a much less working place than it is. You are important to this place, and to us as well. That you and you alone can do so much, take so much time and effort and put it into your work--into making the Campus work better--even though you may be misunderstood or under-respected sometimes--it's really admirable."

I saw tears start in her eyes and she jumped up and hugged me. I was lost in the folds of her maroon dress. It smelled like fish and ink, and she was sweating, but I hugged her back. She leapt backwards--more spryly than I thought she could--into her chair, as if embarrassed by her emotions. She quickly wiped her face with the neckline of her dress, and then remarked to Master what a fine young man "this one" was turning out to be--nothing like my Master, she assured me--and that she was not a Magistra at all. I laughed at that, and told her that she was a Mage who had much to teach, and so, must be a Magistra. Her laugh was choked by a sob, and even Master seemed affected. I looked at him and asked when we would have dinner and he laughed so hard that tears streamed down his face, and Magistra Margot proclaimed loudly that I was a boy after her own heart. When Master was done laughing, he told me that we would go to the Kitchens right after this, and scribbled "Magister Nova" on the bottom of a sheet that said "Beryl" at the top, and took an apple out of his sleeve and left it on her desk. She thanked him and he just smiled and said, "It's good to see you again too, Margot." Then we were out the door as I waved bye with a smile and she waved back, the feather of her quill swaying with each wave.

Halfway down the hallway, I asked Master if he had another apple, and he sighed and pulled another out and handed it to me. Then her cry reached us: "And don't call me Margot!"

Master laughed all the way to the Kitchens.  

[Leavaros]

We both heard and smelled the Kitchens before we saw it. The persistent sound of something sizzling was regularly interrupted by the staccato notes of metal on metal, the roar of cooks at negligent apprentices, and loud conversation between people, punctuated occasionally by laughter. The scents wafting from the kitchen made my mouth water--fat ducks and apple pies, lamb with herbs, even those strong-smelling grain dishes from the south, and...was that grilled fruit?--I decided I was hungrier than I first imagined, tossing the apple core into a waste bin on the way, and picked up the pace. Master laughed at my avidity even harder than he had been before, but still matched my pace easily. Later, I would come to admire the old man's stamina, but right then I was focused on the huge open doorway that connected the hallway and our destination.

In a moment, we were inside. Suddenly, the heat of countless cooking instruments whooshed over us, and those telltale smells and sounds proved true--there was food to be had, and plenty of it. But in a heartbeat, my hunger was lost to the natural wonder of an exciting new place.

The Kitchens were immense. Like every room in the Towers, the Kitchens had a sprawling layout and a high ceiling. Pantries lined the walls to either side of the room, and I could see herb gardens, both hanging and grounded, growing in the back against the windows. In the center, a number of cooking islands made a box, divided in regular intervals by paths to inner islands. Master led us to the heart of the Kitchen, a small, raised dais where a plump woman stood shaking a giant wooden spoon at someone and shouting over the din, then sighing and hopping down and pointing at a number of spices in the rack, finally smacking a big man lightly on the shoulder with her weapon of choice, to his embarrassment and Master's amusement.

"Jani, you haven't changed a bit." Master sighed and smiled slightly.

Head Chef Janice startled, and turned to regard Master as if he were a ghost. She hugged him tight to her, and muttered something about missing him. Then she thwapped him soundly on his head and asked where on earth had he been, and why didn't he send back a message, he made her worry so, look at all these gray hairs he had given her--and look!--he'd gone all to bones, at least he could make a fine living as a scarecrow--they wouldn't even bother pecking at him.

After the rush of words had left her pink in the face, and huffing heavily, he replied, "In time, Jani. But for now, I have someone for you to meet." He looked towards me and said, "This is Beryl," and she smiled. I returned her smile shyly, and she exclaimed how cute I was, and asked where had he found me. Master replied, "Springvale," and she nodded sagely--I was surprised she knew the place--and said the fruits were fine, the best apples she'd ever tasted, and those pears! She'd been there once, about two or so weeks after the last frost years ago, when the flowers bloomed with the trees, and the whole place smelled of sweet Spring. She seemed truly upset when Master told her of the fire, and how I had lost everyone around me.

Her face went through a number of expressions, first sadness, then deeper sorrow, gladness, and as Master finished his tale with the last two or three days, genuine warmth set on her features. She asked me, "Well, lad, what do you think of the Kitchens?"

I thought about it for a moment, and then replied, "It's loud, and busy all the time, but that just means it's always warm, right? And...it smells good in here. It smells like home." I breathed in the scents of baking bread and cooling sweets. "I've missed this. I used to work in the kitchen with Mother, especially on rainy days and in Winter. It always kept me warm." I must have looked distant, because Master asked if I was okay, and Cook Jani hugged me. She smelled good, of cooking oils and fresh bread.

"There, there, little one. Your Master and I are close--even if he can be a silly old fool sometimes--so feel free to help me whenever you want. That's okay, isn't it, Nova?" I followed her gaze to him, and he was looking at me. At the third call of his name, Master startled, and said, yes, yes, that's fine.

"I'd like that." I said, and grinned like a child. I sniffed the air in front of the pot with the chastened student, and asked what this was. Cook Jani told me that it was soup, and stuck her spoon in it, lifting a bit out for me to taste. I accepted--all this food was making me hungry--and it ran warm and thick down my tongue, warming me from the inside. "It's good. I like the meaty taste, and the little bit of sugar brings out the natural sweetness of the meat, while softening the edge of the salt. The carrots and corn are nice too, because they add variety to it. Really, the preparation is perfect--the broth is thick, the carrots tender but not mushy, the corn well-flavored. I really like it, but...." I looked between Master, who was shaking his head and smiling a little, and Cook Jani who was looking at me like I was a new shipment of truffles from the far north, and decided to take a chance. "But I think it could use some thyme, too, and a touch of sage." I looked between the Head Chef and her apprentice, making my point very clear, and I saw Master make an admirable attempt at not laughing. Cook Jani looked at her apprentice--a broad shouldered man in his early twenties, who had not made the connection--and gave me a measuring stare. Then, she nodded approvingly, and said that I had a good deal more taste than my Master and that she might just try that.

I asked about the grilled fruit, and she gave me a platter and sent me on my way, Master telling me that he'd be there in a minute. I saw him say something with a smirk and her retort with a good-natured laugh. I decided that all was well, and went over to try the grilled fruit.

I decided on the peach first, and it was really tasty, warm and rich and sweet as the memory of Summertime. I said so to a certain cook, in his late teens--the one who had made it, presumably, and it took him a moment before he could say "thank you". I took one half of a grilled strawberry, an apple, a pear, and an apricot, and tried them all. I didn't like the strawberry, or the apple--I determined that these were tastes I would have to develop--but the pear was okay--still tender and sweet, but too warm--I told him I thought it would be better with sweet cool cream and baby berries, and he nodded, but I did like the apricot, it was a little odd tasting, and I asked if he had any cinnamon, or brown sugar. He nodded, and I sprinkled some on, and took a bite, and said, well pleased with myself, "Now that's much better!" and gave him the rest. He nodded, saying it had some merit, and patted me on the head, saying that he was Cook Alan apprenticing under Cook Patti, and asked me who I was. I told him that I was Beryl, apprenticing under Magister Nova, and did he know him? He laughed and said, yes, of course he knew Nova. I was about to ask him what he meant by that, when Master suddenly came and said hello to Alan.

"Alan! How have you been, boy? Last time I saw you, you were a hairless boy, and now you've a beard of your own!"--here, Alan said goatee, to no avail--"How is Patti? She's doing well, isn't she? When are you graduating to full Cook status? It must be soon!"

"Yes, well, it would be, but I want to stay and help her. She is getting older, and her health is failing, and I'm her last apprentice. I couldn't bear for even an ounce of her knowledge to fade." The sadness in his brown eyes was overpowering, and it was mirrored in Master's.

"Funny, I've been gone for--what, six years?--and nothing has changed at all--or at least, the people haven't." Master sighed and shared a look with Alan. I got the distinct impression that there was more to that statement, and Alan laughed a little and nodded. A little quiet filled the gap between us, and then Master asked, "How long does she have left?"

A sorrow I knew too well crept up into his vision, a sadness so cold that tears cannot fall. "They say that this will be her final Winter. I pray it is not so."

"I want to meet her." I said suddenly, and then amended, "If that's okay."

Master looked at me, silently, and then nodded. "Where is she now?"

Alan looked at me, and then Master, and back at me, and said, "She's in the Kitchen apartments, the first door right outside the Kitchens on the right. Normally, the Head Chef gets that room, but Jani is so close with Patti--they're almost sisters, you know--and she has such a hard time getting around, she always was so lean, and she's grown frail with the years, and the heat of the Kitchens keeps her warm in Winter. I'm staying with her, because I don't want her getting up in the middle of the night and tripping or anything, so I want to be there for her."

Master nodded to each comment, and then clapped him on the shoulder and said that he had grown into a fine man, who had done well by his master. Alan shrugged and said that it felt like the right thing to do, but Master said that that--doing right even when it would be easier not to--is exactly what makes a good man. Alan only smiled gently, and I saw that Master really did have an effect on people.

As we walked out of the Kitchens--with two platters of grilled fruit, three bowls of beef stew and a loaf of bread--I commented on that to Master. He stared at me for a second and then laughed so hard we had to stop at Cook Patti's door.

A shaky voice echoed from behind the door, reaching us. "Nova, is that you?"

The door opened, and there was Cook Patti, standing there, smiling at us.
~~~~~  

[Leavaros]

Former Head Chef Patricia was known in the keep as Cook Patti. I have heard tales that in her time she had had many suitors. Master told me that in her prime, she was very beautiful, a tall, willowy woman with soft green eyes and light brown hair and a shy smile. It was expected that she would marry Master, but life throws twists at all of us, and she became his close friend and confidante instead.

Time had aged Cook Patti well, for though she leaned on the door a little, and her eyes and mouth had wrinkles beside them, her hair was not gray, but shone like silver, and her eyes were as clear as they were kind as she greeted us. "Nova, my old friend, you've come home. I'm so glad to see you, I thought...well." The silence would have grown long, but she asked, "Who's this?"

"And I, Patti. This is Beryl, my apprentice." He patted my head, and continued, "We ran into Alan in the Kitchens, and the topic shifted to you, and we heard about your illness, and Beryl said he wanted to meet you." I was shocked--I'd never seen Master rattled so. My mouth fell open as I stared at him, and he visibly collected himself. "Can we come in?"

"Of course." She moved beside the door and directed us to a table in the middle of the room, where we set down our food. Master said, "The third bowl of stew is for you, Alan thought you would need it, and I agree."

"Don't worry about me, now." She stood behind a chair opposite Master and then moved carefully into it. Her ginger movements betrayed her state, but did nothing to diminish the grace that seemed to surround her. "I'm old, not dead." She said it with the strangest little smile.

Master answered it with a tender one, and "That's very true, Patricia."

"Hm." I made a sound and looked away from my plate. "Old isn't the right word. For either of you." I looked into my stew, and shook my head. "Old is a word we use that says 'broken down' or 'wearing out'." I looked between the two of them, and continued talking. "That word may be true of some people, but not for the two of you. The two of you are...respected, elder, fragile...."

"Antique." She supplied the word for me with a smile. "What a special boy you are. Not many have such insights, or such power. Your Master is very lucky to have found you."

"I'm very lucky to have him find me. He saved me, you know."

"Oh?" She said, and let me rattle off my story, and Master paid attention. I understand now that he was trying to understand the vast differences in our perceptions of the same time together, while also paying attention to Patti's expressions, and occasional comments. She had a peace to her that was very inviting, a kindness that was very opening. My natural shyness had been dispelled, and I spoke with the open ended, rattling statements of a child--about things no child should know of.

I told her of Gina and how pretty she was, like Mother, and Nina and her beauty, and Nana and her wise spirit, and Jarid's eyes and Master's, and Master's wise little lessons, and the beauty of Fall and Winter, and our trips through the various villages and cities on the way here, and the scary dreams in Selenia.

"Scary how?" She asked, genuinely worried.

"I don't know. There was a woman and a man, and the woman was crying over the body of a man, who had died. Then there was this, this voice, and she...."

"She did what, Beryl?" Her voice soothed and calmed me. Almost, I could feel her....

"She stabbed herself." As soon as she said that, I knew. I closed my eyes, and knew I felt sleepy, but pushed that weariness away. I put two and two together and--"You're a Mage, aren't you?"

Two gasps came from either side of me. "How did you...?" From Cook Patti, and "That's never happened before" from Master.

"You said that I was powerful." I said. "No one outside of Mages could know that." I held up one finger. Then a second joined the first, and I looked at Master, "Two, when Nina's charm entranced me back in Cuiet, I got tired. Just like now. When I pushed at it, it went away." I sighed. "I'm so tired of people trying to coax information out of me. You could have just asked me, you know." I said accusingly, and she smiled a little and nodded.

"Yes, but it's protocol. It's part of my job here to check students for magical sensitivity and to make sure they aren't harboring any dangerous secrets. I'm sorry if you take offense, I meant no harm, no disrespect." Her smile was gentle and sweet even without her charm. I told her that her smile had charm enough without magic, and she began to weep. "Let's start over, okay?" I nodded, unwilling to be mean to anyone Master was so close to, but having more and more difficulty putting this behind me. "I'm Magistra Patricia, but you can just call me Cook Patti. I haven't taught for years--my true calling is the culinary arts, not those of the arcane."

Master gaped at me like a fish out of water, his mouth opening and closing a few times as if he were about to say something and then shrugged. I turned to her, "Tell me about yourself. Alan seemed so...rapt that there was little else I could do but be intrigued. I don't suppose he knows anything about magic?"

"No more than anyone else here; he really is just a Cook's apprentice."

"Now that, I take offense to." I said, seriously miffed. She and Master looked at me, shocked. "Alan practically worships you, and you say, 'he's just an apprentice'. He takes care of you, like you're his own mother, even moving in with you and delaying his graduation to be with you in your latter days. How can you say that about him?"

"That isn't at all what I meant!" Cook Patti exclaimed in horror. Master nodded frantically, adding, "Patti would never say it like that!"

"Master, aren't you the one who told me that our words help determine our existence?" I asked him pointedly. "What would Alan say if he heard her say to you that he was 'just an apprentice'? Probably nothing. Alan doesn't strike me as one who would say anything contrary to her. But if you said that about me, Master, that I was 'just an apprentice', I'd be very hurt."

"What's wrong, boy?" Master said. "This isn't about semantics at all, is it?"

I wondered for a moment what semantics was, and then shook my head trying to hold back tears. I couldn't explain why I was having such a hard time controlling myself, or why it bothered me so badly. "It's just that...that you didn't do anything when she tried to pry into me. You didn't stop her, or warn me, or anything." I started to shake and cursed myself for being so weak. "I mean, don't I deserve a warning, at least, when someone tries to get in my head? You are my Master--if someone tried to drug you, I would do everything in my power to stop them, to warn you, even if it was good for you, even if I believed that you didn't need to know." The tears started, and I couldn't stop them.

"It's the rules, boy!" Master said defensively.

"You told me that rules should be put in place to avoid hurt, or they should be changed--why do I feel so betrayed right now?" The tears wouldn't stop, I couldn't make them stop, and the air around me thickened and I couldn't breathe. I saw the woman named Selene howling over the betrayal, over the body of her beloved. The air around me pulsed with my sobs. I choked on my tears. Distantly, I saw the horror on the faces of Master and Magistra Patricia.

Not for them, but for myself, I tried to calm myself. I succeeded enough to breathe, and rise from the table, my food mostly untouched. I collected myself, and the air grew cold around me. When I spoke, my voice was chill with sadness, betrayal, and loneliness--I couldn't quite understand why. Somehow, the words rang strangely, odd to say, but say them I did. "I will forgive you, Magistra, because I do not believe you intended harm. I will forgive you, too, Master, because there is little you could do but follow the lines you are given. But these things will take time. In the space between, I would advise you, Magistra, to consider your 'semantics' and assess what Alan means to you--especially considering your limited time. Furthermore, I think it goes without saying that you should reflect on tonight's events, and the consequences of your actions, regardless of intention. Perhaps my Master could help you with that, as he should be doing the same thing, also with a certain apprentice in mind." I met their eyes icily, and each in turn turned theirs from mine.

"Now, if you will excuse me," I said, leaving no room for speech as I took up my soup. I was halfway to the door when Master asked me if I was going to take the fruit as well. I turned and looked at him. "No. I brought it for her."

And with that, I left, returning to the Kitchens.
~~~~~  

[Leavaros]

The sun had set, but the Kitchens, as expected, were still warm. The smell of warm food and the constant flow of people took the edge off my frostiness. I navigated my way back to Cook Jani, who was conversing with a tall woman with her back to me.

When I reached her, I sniffed, and asked if her offer was still good. She turned to me, and looked around for someone, probably Master, before realizing that I had been crying. She looked at the other woman, and I followed her look--

To Magistra Olivia.

I didn't care who knew just then, and was surprised when she reached into one of her robe's pockets, and took out a piece of something dark brown. "Chocolate," she clarified. "From the far west, so far west its east, in fact." She handed it to me, and I popped it in my mouth. "They say that its sweetness takes the edge off of bitterness, and it's always been the case with me."

"It would go well with cinnamon buns." I muttered to myself, and both women laughed.

"Let me guess, your Master did something stupid, and hurt your feelings, right?" At any other time, I would have defended Master, but I was too tired to lie. Tired of deceit. I nodded, unable to speak. I was shaking, and Cook Jani touched me, and then ran off somewhere, and brought back a dark brew sweetened with apricot jelly and honey, and another for the other woman. "This will perk you up and take the chill from your bones, lad."

I thanked her, and Magistra Olivia did so as well, before turning to her and saying, "I suppose Nova's charge is my charge, huh?" to which Cook Jani added, "And women's responsibility to fix what men break." That sounded like a Northern saying, but I had no idea what they were talking about. I sighed. I was so tired of people talking over my head because I was young. I told them so, bluntly, and would have walked away, but for Olivia's hand on my shoulder.

"Then let's talk, face to face. But somewhere quieter." Her eyes flickered, and she took my hand and led me out of the Kitchens, and away from their warmth. My teeth started to chatter, so we stopped by one of her friend's apartment, and borrowed a blue blanket. We continued onward deeper into the Towers' Heart, nearly to the back, and finally we arrived at a place where books lined the walls from the floor to the ceiling. A second and third floor of stone had been constructed to reach the highest books, and at regular intervals, sliding ladders leaned at an angle, and letters marked each section, while the floors were marked with the words, "Apprentices", "Mages", and "Magisters". It was the most magical place I had ever been.

It was the Library.

"We aren't going to look at books tonight, Beryl. Let's sit over here, and talk." She pointed to a dark little corner, lit by a whitish orb suspended above a tabletop by a twisting pole from the next level up. The table, upon closer inspection, was likewise suspended by a twisting pole, from the floor. The two seemed to be matched up perfectly. I had never seen anything like it.

We sat there, and I wrapped the blanket close to me, until Magistra Olivia noticed and pointed a finger at the orb. For a moment, nothing happened, and then it grew to thrice its size and turned a golden-green, like an Autumn leaf mid-season. Suddenly, the table grew warmer, and healthy heat surrounded us from all around. I released the blanket, and set it off to the side. Oddly, the table was almost encircled by a bench, but for four openings that created seats big enough for two people. Later I would learn that these tables were often used by teams of apprentices who would study together. "Now, what did Master do this time?" She asked kindly.

I told her everything that had happened. As the tale went on, her face grew graver, and I felt cooler. At one point, she told me to calm down, I was starting to make the air cold again, and to drink a swig of the coffee. So that's what it was called. I did, and then continued neutrally. As I concluded with my seeing the woman, and leaving abruptly, horror spelled clearly on her features.

"And now I've gone and made you upset, too." I sighed and rose up from my seat, but she tugged me back down, and took my two hands into her own, searching my eyes.

"You've not upset me, boy. If anything, Master's calm acceptance of Patricia's tinkering has. They should know better than that, by now." She huffed, and sighed. "I guess they cling to tradition, old dogs that they are."

"I'm not sure that's quite true," I said quietly. "I don't think they saw anything wrong with it."

"Of course not. No one has ever found out before, at least on accident, and no one was told except Magisters. They would have kept doing it, too, had you not spelled out the wrongness of what they had done. As much as it hurts now, you've probably solved a much bigger problem that could have developed over time."

"Maybe." I admitted, and then looked into her eyes, worried. "Magistra Olivia, what am I?"

She looked as if she were going to lie for a moment, and then said, "You are your Master's apprentice. You have far too much power to not train you, and you've been introduced to almost half the Campus. And Nova's reputation will give you both popularity and prestige, not to mention protection. And I know that he would never let one of his pupils be hurt, especially not one so bonded to him as you are." She looked distant for a moment, and then told me, "Whatever you are, you are you. You must not forget that, Beryl. You will be trained, and you will become one of the strongest Mages alive. When Master's protection is not enough, I will be there as well, and I'm sure Patricia will, for as long as she has left. That goes for half the Campus, who would rally behind anything Master would. And if the rumors I've heard about your little speech yesterday were true, you've touched a good number of people yourself. With your power and your looks and your kindnesses and your intelligence, and the ties that Master will pass down to you gradually, you will be so popular that you will fear for nothing." She stopped for a second, and then considered something, and decided to say it anyway. "But even so, it would be best if you did not discuss this with anyone else. Do I make myself clear?"

"Uh-huh." I nodded, sighing. "I'm tired of all this intrigue."

She laughed, her accent tinging her laugh exotically, and said, "Get used to that, boy, or disappear for six years."

I wondered what she meant for a moment, and then everything clicked. "You were Master's apprentice, weren't you? And that's why you're upset with him, right? Because he disappeared for six years. And he didn't send word to anyone, right? He just vanished. You must have been so worried."

Magistra Olivia was impressed. "Yes, that's right. Did Master tell you that?"

"No, I heard pieces of the story last night, and tonight in the Kitchens. It's easy enough to put together."

"That intelligence might be a problem given your openness with it."

"Wouldn't it be more dangerous to act as if I didn't know what's going on?"

"At your age, no. Remember, Beryl, intrigue is important here. If you act a bit more like a child, you can escape the notice of...potential enemies."

"Maybe." I said and let that subject lie. Then, "Would you take me back to the Kitchens? I should see if Master's okay."

"Aren't you still angry with him?"

"Yes, but that's no reason to cut him out of my life. He's too important to me for me to hold a grudge." I looked at her, and shrugged. "Seeing Cook Patti like that...well, it made me remember that life is too short for grudges. I mean, if I had held a grudge against Mother or Father, before the fire, and then never saw them again.... It would hurt so bad, knowing that we ended on a sour note. What do you think, Magistra Olivia?"

She assessed me again, and said, "I agree with Cook Jani. It is a woman's duty to fix what a man broke." Not a perfect replication, but decided to exercise tact here, and smiled instead. "Let's go see Master, then."
~~~~~
The door to Cook Patti's apartment opened, and Master's eyes were red and blotchy, as was his nose. He had been crying. The realization made me sick. He moved aside and let us in.

Magistra Olivia surprised everyone by hugging him tightly. Then, she moved back and told him that he had a lot of explaining to do, about his absence as well as his treatment of his apprentice. And that, should something happen to him, he would answer to her. She poured tea for the four of us from a steaming put on the table, and sat down. "Start from the beginning." When he looked at me, I felt myself growing distant--I would always be second class to him. But Olivia said, "Now." And so it was as she had said--it did take a woman to fix what a man broke.

He sighed, and spun a tale the likes of which I had never heard before.
~~~~~  

[Leavaros]

"I hardly know where to begin, Olivia." Master said with a sigh.

"Maybe with your departure from the Campus six years ago." Those last words seethed with anger.

"Ah. Yes, well...." He looked over at Patricia, who nodded at him. Something passed between them, and he said, "We must start long before that."

A silence filled the room, and no one could quite place it's feeling. It was charged, like electricity, like the light in Master's eyes when he spoke of magic and mystery. He shattered it. "Before Magistra Ilia led the Campus, Magister Lionel held the title of Magistrate. He was a brave man, a strong man, and all who favored justice and the pursuit of magic followed him. In his days, in the days of my late youth and into my middle years, the Campus thrived in both the numbers of Mages and the power that the Campus itself had. But, as he aged, he became...a bit deranged. His eldest adviser was found dead in his bedroom, as if he had just...fallen asleep.

"Strange things started to happen in the Campus. As with any disease, corruption fed on the weakness of Magistrate Lionel. His new adviser was a cold and wicked man named Kalorik, who won favor by planting lies in the ears of a great man." Tears filed his eyes, and I could tell that he and Lionel had been close. "With the aid of the Magistrate, he got a number of his fellows to sit on the Council.

"As Magistrate Lionel's health diminished further, he decided to concede his throne to a new leader, who would guide the Campus well. In that haziest time of his life, the light of his wisdom shone through. He chose Magistra Ilia, a strong-willed female who would stop at nothing to see the Campus prosper. At that time, there were still enough pure-hearted Mages on the Council that, with the blessings of the Magistrate, she was raised as the new Magistrate. He died quietly soon after.

"Magistrate Ilia and I had a long past together. She wanted me on the Council, but of course, I declined, saying that I would leave politics to better men than I. I did not say more courageous, though I think I should add that now. I was well informed as to the state of things.

"I watched out for her, and slowly, the corruption spread throughout the Council. New Mages were being raised younger and younger, swaying the vote in the favor of those who sought personal gain. Older Mages, true to the Campus, began to die, or to disappear. Certain others, younger than Ilia, vanished as well. Some were never heard from again. Others...." He dropped off and shook his head, and said simply, "Others were found."

No one needed to ask what he meant.

"The Council began to move more and more openly, more and more violently. The execution rate in the first five years of Ilia's reign topped that of Lionel's entire reign--which spanned more than thirty years. She opposed as any as she could, but...." He sighed. "There was nothing that could be done. She was one woman against an ocean of greedy, manipulative Mages in high places.

"She couldn't take it anymore. She planned to overthrow the Council. I knew of this long before anyone else, and many had like plans to wipe away the filth that had come in." He let out a huge sigh, and gulped his tea down.

"I fled. I wanted nothing to do with a civil war, nothing to do with the bloodshed of Mages. My grief for Lionel tore me apart, even so late after his death. Especially after his death. I got sicker and sicker the longer I stayed here. I wanted nothing more to do with the Campus."

"I went to the only place I cold think of that might calm me. The North. To the forest tribes of the North, who regarded me as a friend. Firestarter, they called me, because I could start fires out of new branches. It was silly, but they respected me for it. I think they feared me a little, too." He paused a moment and stroked his beard. "That's good, I would have been in danger if there wasn't some fear.

"I stayed there, and trained in their magics, which are more...attuned to the earth than ours." He looked over at Magistra Patricia and said, "In fact, their Spiritualism is far more advanced than ours."

"Four Winters passed there. I considered going back to the Campus, if only to check on those I cared about. I considered staying there, as well. In the end, I wandered.

"In the fifth Spring, I went to New Cuiet. I did some research there, and discovered that Ilia had been pulled down, and a new Magistrate had been raised. Kalorik.

"I knew I had to go, but could not bear the thought of seeing my home in ruins. Or worse. I got in contact with someone, and sniffed out a few of those missing Mages. I wished I hadn't.

"It made me so angry...I could think of nothing else but going back and setting things aright. But I couldn't. Something was..." He paused, searching for the right word. "Something was trying to scare me, trying to stop me, to make me stay back.

"That Autumn, a town called Vale near Cuiet burned to the ground. Few survived. I smelled a conspiracy, and decided to go there and survey the damage. No cause could be documented. Every tree had been burned to the ground, every building razed. The whole place had a feeling of....

"Of terrible, overwhelming sorrow. Of hate deeper than anger.

"And there, I found Beryl. He was orphaned by the fire, and his potential was too much to lose. But more...there was a peace that radiated from him...." He looked at me and sighed. "When I found him, I had found something in me that wanted to go on. To go back, for the both of us.

"It's as if his very existence wards off malevolence. He is a very special child, with a great deal of power.

"I had my suspicions then, but could sense nothing in him, unlike the others...." He swallowed and continued. "True, he was quick, and said things no child would normally say, but I attributed that to his orphaning as much as anything else. And he had forgotten his name. But amnesia is not uncommon in young children who suffer--

"Anyway. He chose his name from the story of Beryl: The Luckiest Boy Mage In The World. He didn't know it at the time, but Beryl was once worn as a symbol of good luck, to repel bad luck. He had become my Beryl."

Master smiled here. "We grew close. We talked and laughed and cried together. We ate our meals and studied together. We slept back to back every night, because Beryl always got cold. Without even realizing it, this charm had acquired meaning to me, this project had become a person close to me. My study had become my apprentice. My charge had become my friend." Patricia smiled tenderly at Master, and Olivia couldn't help but follow suit, hiding hers behind a teacup. I smiled shyly, and looked into my tea.

"He became very important to me. I introduced him to my nephew Jarid, and Nana--you remember Nana, right Olivia?--and her great-niece Nina. You know what he said to Nana? He said that she looked wise."

"That sounds just like something he would say," Olivia said matter-of-factly.

"Doesn't it!" Master agreed with a laugh, and I wondered if I had done something wrong. I voiced my concern and everyone laughed, even Cook Patti.

"Not at all, Beryl, my boy. Not at all." Master said, wiping a tear away. "And we met Gina there, a fine young woman who I have become very attached to."

I had never seen Olivia truly shocked before. In her defense, she hid it well. "You...attached!?!"

He nodded, and went on. "That was it, I guess. Anyway, I wanted to return to the Campus before Winter set in and narrowly made it here on horseback! Terrible roads, I might add. It's a wonder we didn't get lost or worse!" He shook his head at something.

"And that's really it. Nothing too interesting, and you know the rest from therein."

Olivia looked at him calmly. "What aren't you telling us?"

"Nothing you need to know." It was the first time I had ever heard iron in his voice. Olivia nodded, accepting the confidentiality as another facet of Master's personality.

"So...what am I?" I intoned, afraid of the answer.

Master and Magistra Patricia looked at one another, and then Master decided to speak. "We aren't sure, exactly. We can't see anything...attached to you, and Patricia is the best we've got for this job. As far as we can tell, your just like anyone else, just more powerful."

I felt like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. "Then the crying fit was...?"

"Unusual," Magistra Patricia said, "But not unheard of. When powerful emotions are had, they can trigger a...response. Kind of the way sadness can make you cry, even though you don't want to. And since your power is far greater than most...."

"The result is stronger." I finished. "Well, that makes sense." I dared to hope. "So...I won't be hurt?"

The two elder Mages looked at Olivia. "He deserved to know what he is facing. That's how he got into this mess, was with you two digging into people the way you do. Try truth for a change. You might be surprised." These last two remarks were aimed right at Master, and I winced.

"Magistra Olivia?" I looked at her. "Remember what I said before? In the Library?"

For a moment, her face was stone. Then she sighed, and smiled. Her smile was...radiant in its warmth. "We have much to discuss, Master of mine."

Master began to weep. He tried speaking, and then just nodded. I took her hand and made her look at me. She nodded once, and she got up and did the unthinkable.

She went over to the old man and hugged him. He collapsed in sobs, and her green eyes glistened with tears. But she held her composure, and he cried into her robes.

I went over to Magistra Patricia, and hugged her. Our cheeks brushed, and hers felt wet and warm. I moved back after a moment had passed, and said, "I understand. We don't have time for a grudge right now, you and I. So...if it's still okay, can we start over?"

She hugged me tightly in response. After she had composed herself, she pulled me aside and said, "Those two were as close as any father and daughter I've ever seen, and until today, I've never seen Olivia express affection like this. Why don't we give them some time to talk, and you spend the night with Aunt Patti?"

I smiled. "On one condition."
~~~~~
A few hours later, I was napping on the sofa. Master and Olivia had gone to the Library to catch up, and Patricia was reading a thin book and writing on a sheet of paper at the table where we had eaten. I awoke from my light sleep when the door creaked open quietly.

"Patti, why aren't you in bed? You need your rest, you know." Alan's voice was fraught with anxiety.

"In a moment, dear." She said, as she rose gingerly from her seat and walked over to him. I watched as she smiled up at him and looked at him so tenderly, and said, "I love you, Alan. You always were my favorite." Then her frail arms encircling him, hugging him.

He hugged her back, trying to be gentle, and strong. Even so, I saw silent tears trace twin patterns of joy down his face, and his hands quiver as they came to rest on her back. "I love you too, Patti. Are you okay? Is everything...you aren't--"

"Everything is fine, now, Alan. Everything is fine." She patted him on the back, and it spasmed, the tears racking him. I saw her rest her head on his shoulders and a single tear fall, a perfect smile on her face.
~~~~~