Chapter Three: The Apprentice

Nysana travels to Valmystaal Academy of Magic and is greeted by Olivar Carvalho, the Apprentice to the Grandmaster.

Her body shimmered into place on the teleportation pad and Nysana let out a gasp. There was a tightness in her chest that was slowly fading, a not-so-subtle urge to hurl and a strange tingling in her extremities that made her doubt all of the pieces of her made it.

"Feels weird for your first time, doesn't it?"

Nysana nodded at the young man who stood before her in fine robes that practically pulsed with magic. His sandy hair and soft blue eyes made for pleasant company if only she didn't throw up on him.

"You must be Nysana," he said when she didn't answer.

"You must be Olivar," she returned.

He smirked for just an instant before beckoning behind him. The magnificent castle loomed high above them, its spires stretching toward the heavens. Intricately-carved murals that seemed just as alive as Nysana stood out from the ancient architecture but remained very much attached to the stone.

"Any passing remarks?"

"I thought I was supposed to be asking all the questions," she said.

Olivar sighed. "They told me you would be difficult."

"They? Who's they?"

He rolled his eyes as they began ascending the nearby stone staircase. "You honestly think that a Battle Witch being here doesn't make you the biggest thing to happen this year? Plus, I'm the Apprentice. Obviously, I was told what your personality would be like so that I could make you feel more welcome."

Nysana opened her mouth to retort and just barely managed to stop herself. She was here to make friends and allies. Her snap judgments and sarcasm wouldn't be appreciated.

"Thank you," she said.

He gave her a strange look but nodded. Leading her through the various corridors, rooms, and halls, he explained all of the different locations like a butler in an expensive home. Never once did she catch a note of distaste from him at having to demean himself to being a guide. If anything, he seemed far too excited to talk about where to eat, sleep and sit for studies. Surely the Apprentice of the Grandmaster of Valmystaal had more important matters to do--like unraveling the secrets of magic.

"And these are the Gardens. You'll find this a nice place to meditate and relax in your leisure time." 

"Is it crowded or are there some secluded areas for privacy?" She blushed at the implication and hoped he didn't notice.

That little smirk found its way to Olivar's lips again. Damn, he noticed. He seemed about to say something, but a wrapping of leather on his wrist chimed like the tiniest clock in the world. Glowing markings of a clock's face appeared on the leather.

"What's that?"

"It's a wrist-chrono or chrono for short. It also means our time is up. I've got to get back to see the Grandmaster before the Opening Ceremony."

He glanced around before his eyes settled on a boy with dark brown hair and wide shoulders seated in the crook of a tree.

"Nathron! Come here."

The boy lifted his eyes and Nysana could tell there was bad blood between the two. Still, the boy trudged over and stood in front of Olivar, his hands at his sides. His shoulders were already slumped yet his body seemed already tense.

"Why aren't you cataloging the Archives like I told you?" Olivar's voice had taken on a hard edge.

"I finished."

"There were over a thousand books there."

"I know. I counted."

"Don't take that tone with me, Nathron. I'm the Apprentice, a title you should respect."

"I know who my betters are." His eyes flicked to Nysana for a moment. "Please forgive me for not showing you your due."

Nysana wondered if there was a hidden threat there but said nothing.

"I suppose I'll forgive it this time, Malspar."

Nysana's eyes bulged. She had rarely heard of the slur for non-magical humans but never had she heard it said out loud. There was such a vulgarity to it that she had never imagined could be contained in a single sentence.

"Why would you call him that?" she asked before she could stop herself.

"Because it's what he is," Olivar said with a gesture at the boy. "But he's good for some things and he does know the Gardens."

Nysana bit the inside of her lip and rubbed her fingers together. It was an old trick she had taught herself when she was in danger of balling her fists.

"This is Nysana Merethil, the Battle Witch. I don't have time to show her the Gardens so you'll do it until you hear the bell toll or she gets sick of your company. Got it?"

The young mage nodded.

Olivar gave Nysana a smile and she was shocked to find the warmth back in his eyes. Did his emotions just have a switch? How could he berate a fellow mage and just go about his day like the luckiest man in the world?

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Nysana. I hope we can spend some time together this year getting to know each other better."

The obvious implication hung in the air for several long seconds. She wanted to say nothing until be became so flustered that he finally left, but that wouldn't do. Even if he was an a*s, she couldn't make an enemy of the Apprentice.

"Perhaps," she said evenly.

With a nod, Olivar strode from the grassy area and back into the stone corridor.

"So," she said nervously.

He ground his teeth and said, "I'm Keiron Nathron. Well met, Nysana Merethil."

"Likewise, Keiron." She was unsure why he was being so formal. 

"Let's go this way. I heard you ask for a more secluded area." He started walking down a pathway lined with flowers and didn't look back at her.

Nysana fell into step beside him, studying him out of the corner of her eye. Gone was the slump of defeat in the presence of Olivar. In its place was a spark in his eyes as he talked about the flora and fauna around them. He seemed calm and at ease.

"And at the end of this pathway, you'll find what you're looking for." He gestured at the bench that overlooked a lower section of the Gardens. The sight was breathtaking and Nysana couldn't help but gasp.

Keiron turned to leave and had taken two steps when Nysana asked, "Where are you going?"

"Oh." Keiron's face flushed. "Um, listen, you don't know how things are around here because you're new."

"So because I'm new you just ditch me as soon as you can? Is that why Olivar ditched me with you?"

The mage shook his head, his eyes widening slightly. "You're not getting it."

"Then explain it to me. Use small words so I'll be sure to understand."

"You don't want to ruin your chances for friends," he began.

"Am I that insufferable? I barely said hello to you before you tried to take off."

"Exactly. You're better off. You see, it's not you. I'm the one you don't want around."

Nysana frowned.

"I'm bad for any reputation you want to have. You don't have to talk to me the rest of the year. Honestly, I'm shocked that you're still talking to me now."

Her anger faded and she felt slightly sick. "Surely you can't be that bad. What do your friends think about all this talk?"

Keiron's shoulders slumped again and a heartbreaking look flashed in his eyes. "I don't need your pity."

"My pity? What?"

"Didn't you hear him? I'm a Malspar--something that's useless. People like me shouldn't even be here."

For a moment, she wanted to reach out and hug him. She stopped herself but her foot missed the message because it still took one step.

His eyes narrowed. "I told you. No pity. Find yourself some friends. You'll already be popular being what you are."

"Keiron," she said, her tone soft.

Some strange emotion passed through his features before they hardened again. "Goodbye, Ms. Merethil. Enjoy your studies."

Before she could get in another word, the odd boy stomped off with long strides down a different path than they had come. She wanted to go after to him, scream in his face until she turned blue or he told her why he pushed her away.

Great, she thought. My first day here is off to a fantastic start.

She sat down on the bench with a heavy sigh, gazing out at the marvelous beauty of the Gardens. It calmed her and she allowed it to help her to let go of the urge to strangle something in frustration. What had he meant when he had said: "because of what you are."

What. Not who.

Did he know something she didn't about Surogeth's plans? She couldn't let her mission fail in the first moments of trying. 

Nysana shook her head.

"Worrying is not planning," she quoted from her training.

She quietly made her way through the Gardens and left the beauty of the pathway filled with flowers. Just as she reached the grass, she heard a loud bell toll overhead.

"The Opening Ceremony!" she said to herself as she dashed back inside the castle.