Tzi and Scio stood rigidly still under the collective stares as if paralyzed for several seconds before the shock wore off enough that they could move, at which point Scio pressed herself against Tzi's leg, flattening her ears back against her skull. Tightening her grip on her wand, Tzi resisted the impulse to raise it, remembering how Kino had reacted to that sight at first. Besides, what would she do with it, anyway? Her only magical ability to address threats was to shoot Fireballs at them, which in this tightly packed crowd would be a massacre she absolutely did not want on her conscience.
Fortunately, the white Mirbals didn't appear hostile. At least, they all just stood there, staring. After a pause, the one on the dais up front spoke again.
“Long have we waited,” he declaimed, closing his eyes and lifting both his chin and arms higher. His intonation and gestures were reminiscent of someone performing a religious ceremony. “While the moons turned and the lands changed above us, we waited. But we have been faithful. Throughout all these passing orbits, we have kept faith. The Codes have been diligently observed, and the Halls always kept up to the standards the Masters demand. We have not lapsed, not for a turn! And now...” His voice wavered with emotion, as if he might dissolve into tears, but he just as quickly steadied it. “Now, at long last, an Acolyte has come. You will find these Halls precisely as you were instructed, Acolyte, down to the last and least detail of the Codes. With your coming, our faith is rewarded, and renewed! When the Masters return, they shall find nothing amiss in your report to them. This I, Ati-Anin the Overseer, do swear.” He bowed low, bending himself almost double. “Welcome, Acolyte, and welcome to the new era you bring. We are your servants.”
The entire roomful of assembled Mirbals immediately folded their legs, first kneeling and then prostrating themselves on the floor with their faces pressed against the stone and hands folded atop their heads.
“Memories,” Scio whispered. “What did he say to them?”
Tzi glanced down at her in momentary confusion before realizing that only her own ability to communicate with Mirbals was a gift of magic. Scio had learned the Claedh's language the old-fashioned way. Apparently these spoke a different dialect.
She peered uncertainly around the room. Nothing else was happening, and as the seconds stretched out, Tzi belatedly realized the white Mirbals were awaiting a response from her. She had no idea what she'd just stumbled into, but they clearly expected something of her that she did not begin to understand. Trying to fit herself into the role seemed unwise for several very good reasons, but on the other hand, the almost religious fervor the Overseer had expressed made her think that startling or disappointing them would be more immediately hazardous.
Also, while she dithered, they were still prone in supplication. The majority who were pressed to the floor could probably stay that way for a while, but Ati-Anin was still bent over in a position that looked very uncomfortable at best.
“Thank you,” Tzi said finally, trying for a dignified tone. And a moment later, when nothing else happened, “Rise.”
The Overseer straightened up smoothly, the surrounding Mirbals began clambering upright much less quickly than they had dropped, and less evenly. Many kept their gazes deliberately averted from her; Tzi couldn't help noticing that those who snuck looks in her direction had expressions that varied between apprehensive and openly terrified. But then, she caught the eye of one—female, to judge by the crest of fur atop her head—who was eagerly dry-washing her hands and staring at Tzi with clear delight.
The sinking feeling she had about this whole thing began to intensify.
“The fulfillment of our purpose is upon us,” Ati-Anin declared with resonant solemnity. “Now go, servants of the Masters. Ensure that everything is in perfect readiness for the Acolyte's role in our future.”
On command, the assembled Mirbals scattered; it was all Tzi could do not to flinch backward when the entire room burst abruptly into motion, but a primal instinct warned her against displaying fear in front of this crowd. At least the throng cleared out with impressive speed, with Mirbals streaming hastily toward the walls of the room where they ducked into passages neatly hidden behind pillars. Some actually clambered up the walls, using small decorative features of the stonework that didn't look intended for the purpose, to vanish into vents that were well above Tzi's own eye level. In mere seconds, the formerly-packed chamber was empty save for herself, Scio, and Ati-Anin the Overseer.
He bowed to her again, this time folding his hands in front of his chest. “It is my honor to guide you along the first steps of your journey, Acolyte.”
Tzi hesitated; it might be dangerous to reveal ignorance, but at least she was no longer surrounded, and following this guy deeper into the underground complex with zero idea where they were going or why seemed like an even worse idea.
“And...what exactly are these first steps?”
Ati-Anin stiffened momentarily, both of his ears twitching to the sides, then straightened up to gaze at her with his hands still obsequiously folded. “As it is written, Acolyte. You must present yourself before the sacred oracle, the speaker of the Masters' words, to have your name written into the rolls. It shall be a momentous event; no new Acolytes have had their names added in many generations. Only once you are named in the rolls can you truly begin your journey toward mastering the power of the Masters. As it is written.”
Even as unsettled as she was by this vaguely menacing pageantry, Tzi suddenly felt as if her ears must have perked up like a Mirbal's. Mastering the power of the Masters? Assuming the Masters were Syrr—and they all but had to be—he was talking about magic. About learning magic. The precise thing she most needed and in the hopes of which she had come down here. Perhaps Xyzz was finally deigning to give her some good news.
“What's he saying?” Scio muttered.
Ati-Anin's eyes cut past Tzi to the young Claedh, and his expression was suddenly a lot less deferential. “As it is written, Acolyte, you may bring into the Halls one personal slave to help ease your journey. I see that you have done as it is written, and come prepared. My word to you upon my life, however, that it is not necessary. The staff of the Halls shall see to your every need, and ensure your utmost satisfaction in the minutest detail. My life be forfeit if it is not so.”
“That won't be necessary,” Tzi said quickly. “I mean, there won't be any forfeiting of lives over any little mistakes.”
“What?” Scio squeaked.
“And Scio stays with me,” Tzi added, patting the girl right between the ears and ruffling her crest slightly. “She may be a little mouthy, but I'm fond of her.”
“As is your privilege, Acolyte,” the Overseer acknowledged, bowing yet again. “I am ready to serve. Have you more questions, or would you come before the oracle now?”
Oh, did she ever have questions.
All of them, however, were overshadowed by the matter of how much ignorance she could afford to reveal here. It was obvious that the Overseer had mistaken her for someone expected—long expected and revered, the way he described it. It appeared there was an entire society of Mirbals down here who, based on Ati-Anin's comments, seemed they might be unaware that Syrr civilization itself was extinct. What did they expect from their Acolyte, and how long could she pull off this ruse if she decided to try? How much danger would she be in if she did? Right now, she and Scio were standing practically in the doorway; in a pinch, they could bolt back down into the maze, and Tzi suspected a few dramatic Fireballs would dissuade pursuit. Matters would get more serious if she followed Ati-Anin deeper into these Halls. The likelihood of betraying herself would increase the deeper they went, even as her chances diminished of escaping unharmed should things go bad. Not to mention that he spoke of some kind of oracle. That would be trouble for anyone trying to stretch the truth.
But he was talking, very clearly, about learning Syrr magic. The very thing she most urgently needed, and a far greater opportunity than she had dared to hope; Tzi had resigned herself to scrounging scraps of knowledge from curse-infested ruins and maybe other Traveler monuments like the one containing the spell for Mirbal Speech. Here was a fully intact Syrr temple, it seemed, with the descendants of its staff still on duty. If she didn't take this chance, it was very likely she would never escape Dysland. More immediately, she'd have no realistic prospect of finding a cure for Daer.
Her eyes found Scio's. The girl looked as alarmed as she; clearly she had picked up nothing of what was happening save what Tzi had inadvertently translated. The benefit of Mirbal Speech cut both ways: she could not switch to Claedh language and have a private conversation with Ati-Anin standing there. She couldn't even think of any more leading questions that didn't run the risk of betraying her ignorance. Which, it occurred to her, only mattered if she was going to embrace this risk. What if—
“You are confused, Acolyte,” Ati-Anin said.
“What?” Belatedly, Tzi realized she had let the silence stretch out far too long while she wrestled with her options. “I mean, what's to be confused about? I was just thinking...about...”
“It is written,” he intoned, “that Acolytes of the race of the Travelers would come to these Halls as fresh and befuddled as children, not knowing the ways of the Masters. Be at peace, Acolyte: it is also written that the worthy learn quickly. You have passed through the trials set by the Masters to ensure that only those deserving should gain true admittance to the Halls of Elucidation. You are the Acolyte—the first in many generations to prove worthiness. These Halls await you, as we have awaited you. All will be well.”
He did sort of have a point, she realized. Not that this whole situation wasn't just as fraught with both danger and opportunity, but she had passed those tests fair and square. It was still a prospect of diving into something she clearly did not understand, but if the locals actually expected her to be a bit out of her element, maybe this wouldn't be completely impossible to pull off.
“Very well,” she said, drawing in a slow breath to help even her psy. “Let's go see this oracle.”
Once more, Ati-Anin bowed low before her. “By your command, Acolyte, your servant obeys.” He backed away three steps before straightening up and turning around in one smooth motion to lead the way down the aisle between the rows of pillars. Tzi and Scio exchanged a loaded glance before following him, and leaving behind their chance of ready escape.
The Overseer made a beeline for the dais, but walked around it rather than climbing up. On this end of the room there were three large doors, clearly intended for Traveler or even Syrr-sized beings to use, as opposed to the bolt-holes for the Mirbal staff which were concealed along the walls behind the pillars. Two of these flanked the dais on the left and right walls, while one stood behind it. It was to this last that Ati-Anin led them.
Beyond was another hallway, this one sloping slightly downward, which was immediately frustrating because the way the descent urged Tzi to walk faster made it especially awkward to follow someone whose legs were half the length of hers. Belatedly, she wondered whether she'd been forcing Scio to all but run in order to keep up with her. The girl hadn't complained and Tzi had not noticed any signs of distress, but she'd been mostly focused on their surroundings.
Speaking of their surroundings, Tzi was starting to wonder whether the stone around her was actually painted blue. It was difficult to tell; the light was definitely pale blue, emanating from crystals set into the walls and ceiling just like in the antechamber through which they had previously passed. The stone itself might have been a light gray. Tzi's own tunic—and, in fact, her skin—looked blue in here.
A few short minutes of walking down the featureless hall brought them to an extremely impressive intersection. The hallway passed through an arched gate into a towering column of empty space, where the floor became a bridge. It leveled out, leading along with four other bridges to a single landing in the center. The stone banister that shielded the edges from the drop was about chest-high to a Mirbal, which meant Tzi could easily have toppled over it if she walked into it too hard. After edging to the side to peek at what lay below, she retreated swiftly to the center of the path.
It was impossible to tell what lay below. The subterranean tower extended down into apparent infinity, perspective bringing the five-sided shaft to a single point at the farthest extent of her vision. Tzi, mindful of the illusory maze through which they had just passed, acknowledged the possibility that it wasn't actually that deep; even what little she knew of the Syrr already suggested that putting a frightening illusion under a bridge would have been in character for them. They certainly liked their grandiosity. In any case, though there appeared to be no other bridges below this one, there were periodic doorways along the walls, and ramps spiraling downward around the perimeter into infinity. The domed ceiling, inset with abstract murals reminiscent of the illusory floor in the first chamber above—except in shades of blue—was barely a story above her. However deep this tower was, the crossing was right at the top.
Ati-Anin paused in the middle of the pentagonal landing, turning to bow to her again, and Tzi realized that she and Scio had both slowed considerably while peering around. Scio, too, had glanced over the side, and now was once again pressed close enough to Tzi's leg that it made it more difficult for both of them to walk.
“How deep is this, exactly?” Tzi asked, pleased to find her voice even. Focus, concentration, calm; wizardly mental training was useful for more than just magic.
The white Mirbal smiled, and while the subtler nuances may have been obscured by the differences between his face and a human's, she had the distinct impression that it was a smug and faintly malicious smile.
“Please do not step too near the edge, Acolyte. These Halls weed out the unwary; it is not the way of the Masters to coddle the weak.”
Tzi was already wary of Ati-Anin, simply due to their respective positions. At that moment, she began to think she might dislike him personally.
In silence, she gestured for him to proceed. He bowed to her once more, just as deeply, then turned and led the way down another bridge, into another arched doorway, with both of them following. Tzi managed not to sigh in open relief once they had passed out of the empty tower and into the security of walls on all sides again. Scio didn't manage.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
The hall continued to descend, but not for much further. After several more meters, just far enough for the ceiling at the bottom to be even with the floor at the top, it leveled again, and came to an end with no side halls branching off. Ati-Anin glided up to the shrine occupying the little cul-de-sac in which the hallway terminated, turned to face Tzi with his hands folded neatly at his waist, and bowed deeply.
“Behold, Acolyte: the sacred Oracle of the Masters.”
Before them the corridor terminated in a smooth and perfectly semicircular arc of wall, inscribed with text that apparently wasn’t a language Mirbals spoke, as Tzi couldn’t read it. Rather than being arranged in neat lines like most languages, it was positioned along the arcs and angles of a series of geometric diagrams; the overall effect was actually quite pretty, if not comprehensible. At least that much matched the deep gravitas Ati-Anin was trying to cultivate, as the sacred Oracle of the Masters itself wasn’t much to look at.
Actually, it seemed to be some sort of minimalist abstract sculpture. Framed by the curved wall behind, the object Ati-Anin pointed out as the Oracle was a sort of narrow, inverted pyramid about a meter tall, upside down with its point embedded in a slot in the floor. Its top, what would be the base if the pyramid were right way up, formed a square maybe a quarter of its height per side, and set into this was a sphere. Only the upper two thirds of the round part protruded, and Tzi thought it might be a separate piece resting in a bowl-shaped depression in the base, to judge by the line marking the point where they connected. A second line delineated the equator of the sphere. Aside from that, there were no markings of any kind on the statue, just featureless gray stone tinted blue by the eerie light. Nothing about it was impressive, except perhaps how precariously it seemed to be balanced. Only a couple of centimeters of the pointed tip disappeared into the slot in the floor; it must have been difficult to get it to stand up there.
Tzi looked at it, then back at Ati-Anin, then back at the Oracle.
“So…does it…?”
She gasped and jerked back a half-step as the Oracle began to move; Scio hid behind her. Ati-Anin shot them an unmistakable sidelong look of smug satisfaction.
The statue rose into the air and separated; the sphere lifted out of its depression and then its two halves parted to leave a gap of five centimeters or so between them. Much more strikingly, the whole thing came alive with light. Glowing patterns akin to the geometric markings on the curved wall ignited on the pyramid’s four surfaces, each shifting and flowing steadily through sequences of symbols, and between the two halves of the sphere appeared a pair of singular lights. As Tzi stared, they flickered rapidly between perfect circles and horizontal lines a few times, then became round again but with indentations on the bottom.
Belatedly, she realized they were eyes—at least, stylized depictions of eyes, very much like the gold embossed ones on the cover of her own Grimoire. A little cosmetic touch to make a magical construct better able to relate to people. It had just blinked at her, and was now smiling.
“What’s this, now? Overseer, did you actually find one? Oh, what a relief! It’s been—” The Oracle’s voice had an echoing, processed quality like sounds created by some kind of machine rather than a person’s throat. Now, as it cut itself off mid sentence, the movement of the shifting patterns across its surfaces faltered and all its lights shifted from white to orange. Just for a second, though, and then it resumed. “Well, I am absolutely delighted to finally welcome a new Acolyte to the Halls of Elucidation! Excellent job, Overseer! And welcome, Acolyte!”
“Thank you,” she said, somewhat nonplussed, then added. “My name is Tzi.”
“And I am the psybot Monitor assigned to this facility by the Syrr Dominion. It is an absolute pleasure to greet you, Acolyte Tzi!”
“You’re the… Wait, Monitor? I thought he said you were the Oracle.”
“Ah, well, that.” The construct shifted in midair, moving its spherical part—its head, apparently—to direct its gaze at Ati-Anin and then back at her. “There are codes concerning the giving of nicknames to psybots by Acolytes and/or slaves. Oracle is just something the grounds staff started calling me—” That flicker happened again, a brief interruption of the lights and a shift to orange before it returned to normal. “—well, some time ago. It’s clearly not meant to be derogatory—in fact, apparently the opposite—so by the codes it’s permissible. Monitor is my more correct title, but you may feel free to call me whichever you prefer, Acolyte.”
“So, then…you’re the Monitor…of the Halls of Elucidation?” Tzi pressed her lips together, attempting to stifle a grin. “The Hall Monitor?”
The Monitor’s “eyes” flicked horizontal once as it “blinked.”
“I suppose that’s…a way to phrase it. Not strictly in keeping with formal codes of address, though. But regardless!” It shifted to the side, peeking at Scio, who peeked back around Tzi’s waist while still trying to mostly hide behind her. “That’s clearly not one of the staff; I don’t recognize that breed. Of course, you’re allowed one personal slave, as you were doubtless told. That seems to be in order. Now then, if you will just submit your rod and tablet for inspection, Acolyte, we can get the formalities squared away and set you up properly!”
The Monitor’s delivery was so cheery it verged on grating, but even so Tzi felt a swell of resurgent trepidation. What formalities? And terms like “squared away” and “set up properly” were inherently alarming when she was this out of her element and didn’t know what it was referring to. Also, rod and tablet? Thinking back, it occurred to her that items like that were among the things held by the Syrr statue positioned at the entrance to this complex.
Scio clung to her back, Ati-Anin stared intently at her while dry-washing his hands, and the Monitor hovered there, glowing eye sigils arranged in their smiling configuration. None of this was helpful.
Wait. Rod, tablet… She had a hunch.
Tzi pulled her wand out of her belt where she’d tucked it and held it up toward the Monitor. “This?”
“Aha!” She almost jerked back by reflex at how suddenly it surged forward, but restrained herself. The Monitor positioned itself so that its eyes were centimeters from the wand and reconfigured them to be narrow slits. Were those things actually sensory organs? “Hm hm. This certainly isn’t a standard configuration. Rather rustic choice of material components, too. However, I discern no problem! Perfectly adequate power concentration and direction capacity, for a beginner’s instrument. I suppose the cosmetic peculiarities won’t have any meaningful effect on its or your performance. The other Acolytes may—” It broke off again, undergoing another of those orange glitches before it resumed. “Very good! This passes muster. And your tablet, Acolyte?”
She definitely did not have a tablet, but the Monitor’s acceptance of her wand suggested her hunch was right; magical tradition and practice had drifted somewhat during whatever span of time the Syrr had been gone, but the fundamentals remained. Perhaps she might even show this construct something more advanced than it was used to.
“Grimoire?” Tzi said aloud. “Present yourself for inspection.”
“As you say, master.” She thought its voice sounded doubtful, but the enchanted book obeyed, rising from its place in her belt pouch to hover in front of the Monitor.
“I say!” The Syrr construct seemed quite taken aback. “Now this… This sure is something. I’m not even sure where to start with this.”
“Is…is anything amiss, sacred Oracle?” Ati-Anin wheedled, shooting Tzi a distinctly mistrustful look.
“Nnnnno,” the Monitor said slowly. “Upon closer inspection… Well, the choice of a printed book as a physical medium is just… That’s just kitschy, I don’t know any other way to describe it. I suppose that might have simplified the initial ritual casting. And imbuing a spell tablet with pseudosapience! Well, that would make it more user-friendly, I suppose, but at what cost? This would’ve been an enormously complicated thing for a novice to create!”
“Most challenging ritual I ever cast,” Tzi agreed.
“In these Halls you’ll want to prioritize having the power to back up your assertions before you try drawing attention to yourself, Acolyte,” the Monitor chided. “Now, you’re sure you created this…tablet yourself?”
“Of course I did!” She couldn’t keep the defensiveness out of her voice at this. “I’m sorry if it’s non-standard, but this is just the way I was taught.”
“I can see you come to us from a pretty interesting magical tradition, Acolyte Tzi!” The Monitor shifted back, and she protectively grabbed her Grimoire. “Regardless! Peculiar as it is in style, this thing clearly performs a tablet’s job to the standards the Halls of Elucidation requires of its Acolytes. Possibly better in some ways; that remains to be proven. I can see you’ve even been adding data to it. That’s a fine touch, Acolyte Tzi! Proactivity! Initiative! These traits will serve you very well here. And in fact, that saves us some time right now!”
It shifted to one side, and behind, the sigils emblazoned on the curved arc of wall back the Monitor’s nook shifted. This was even more impressive than the same effect on the Monitor’s own surface, as those were just lights overlaid onto it; these were engraved into the stone wall itself, but they flowed like water, adopting a new configuration and lighting up with a soft, white glow.
“From the contents of your tablet, I can see that you’re a budding naturalist in possession of a data-gathering spell,” the Monitor said, still all chipper enthusiasm. “That’s very good, Acolyte Tzi, that will facilitate your orientation nicely! Please direct your data spell at the display behind me to acquire the basic package of spells required for Acolytes.”
“Oh?” Tzi’s wariness had not abated, but prickles of excitement rose above it, boosting her psy and enabling her to call up the thoughtform of Divination with even more ease than usual. Basic package of spells? She’d thought this was going to be a lot more difficult, but she was getting more spells! This thing was just giving them to her! Finally, some real progress.
The crystal tip of her wand glowed as she cast Divination. Her Grimoire pulled itself free of her grasp, rising to the level of her face, and opened, leafing through several pages in succession.
“Multiple new spells acquired, master! It seems we will require some…rather exotic ritual components in order for you to utilize them.”
“Oh, you needn’t worry about that,” the Monitor assured her. “The basic package is all part and parcel of your enrollment. As soon as we have you settled in the dormitory, you’ll be able to reserve a ritual lab and the necessary components from the stocks. The Overseer will see to the arrangements.”
“Everything shall be provided, according to the codes,” Ati-Anin said fervently, bowing low. “A slave shall guide you to the proper place at your convenience, Acolyte, where you shall find all in readiness. Those responsible for gathering your materials shall be in attendance; if the slightest detail is amiss, you may destroy them yourself!”
“There you go again,” said the Monitor, turning its round head toward Ati-Anin and shifting its eyes into a frowning shape. “You’re more efficient overall than the last Overseer, Ati-Anin, but I wish you’d be more conservative with personnel. Until this…supply chain issue…” Its lights flicked orange again for an instant. “…is resolved, slaves are not an easily renewable resource.”
“As you have commanded, sacred Oracle, it shall be so,” Ati-Anin stated, bowing low before the Monitor. “But in the Masters’ absence, I must, above all else, obey the codes. Lowly slaves who poorly serve their Masters are to be shown no mercy! It is the Acolyte’s privilege to abolish the unworthy from these Halls.”
Tzi did not at all like how eager he looked at that prospect.
“Right.” The Monitor turned back to face her. “He’s correct, of course. As a personal request, Acolyte Tzi, kindly take a lenient posture toward the slaves. We can’t currently replace them as…” The lights flickered, dimming to orange and then back to white. “…as easily as we should.”
“I…think it’s probably best if I leave discipline issues to you,” she said very carefully.
“Excellent!” the Monitor enthused. “Showing concern for the facilities will set you up well with…” Orange flicker. “…with your professors. Very good then! I have added you to the rolls, Acolyte Tzi. With that, your registration is complete! If you’ll follow me, Acolyte, we’ll take you to the dorms and assign you a room. Overseer, I assume rooms are properly cleaned out and prepared?”
“Without question, sacred Oracle!” he declared. “The staff have rushed to this task and performed it with every spark of attention their unworthy minds could summon! If you or the Acolyte are in any way dissatisfied, those who have failed—”
“Yes, yes, punishment, you’ve made yourself clear,” the Monitor interrupted him with audible exasperation. “This way, please, Acolyte Tzi!”
The floating construct finally departed its designated alcove, zooming past Tzi so abruptly that she jerked back in surprise, nearly tripping over Scio. Then she had to hustle; the thing clearly had no intention of waiting for her. Tzi had to break into a jog, and Scio an outright dash, but they managed to catch up with the Monitor just as it reached the bridge back to the pentagonal island in the inverted tower.
“This way!” the construct said cheerfully, already zipping off down another of the bridges into a new corridor. There was nothing to do but follow. Distracted by the pace, Tzi didn’t notice until they’d crossed the bridge into this new hall that Ati-Anin hadn’t come with them. Well, so much the better; she did not have a good feeling about him.
“Ah, and this must be the place.” The Monitor had pulled ahead of them again as it raced down the corridor, but now came to a swift midair halt in front of a door, beside which two white Mirbals had prostrated themselves face-down on the floor at its approach. “Standard Acolyte rooms in this section. They should all have been kept in a general state of readiness, but I trust this one has been properly set up for occupation?”
“As is written in the Codes,” said one of the Mirbals, a male who kept his face pressed to the floor while speaking. “All is in readiness, as the Masters have dictated. My life be forfeit if it is not so.”
The quaver in his voice as he added that last part made Tzi wince.
“Perfect, sounds good! You’ll have to do the honors, Acolyte Tzi. Place your hand there, please. Yes, that’s the spot!”
There were three symbols alongside the doorframe: each was a hand print of a different size and shape. Given the context, Tzi immediately recognized their significance. A generally human-looking hand was engraved at around the height of her shoulder, with a much smaller one lower at waist level—that would be for Mirbals. The third, just above her eye line, had fingers thinner than hers, but much longer. A Syrr.
She touched the Traveler print gingerly with her fingertips. When nothing happened, and the Monitor just continued to stare silently, she pressed her palm fully against it, lining up her fingers with the marks.
The door instantly slide sideways into the wall with a soft rasp.
“Here we go!” the Monitor announced, zipping through. Tzi followed more carefully.
Yep, this was a dormitory room, all right. It wasn’t terribly cramped; in fact, it looked a little bigger than her old chamber back at Knauer’s Tower.
“Desk, chairs, bed, I assume that’s all pretty self-explanatory,” the Monitor nattered on, zooming about the room and pausing by each object it introduced. “This door leads to your storage closet, this door to toilet facilities. You’re one lucky Acolyte, not every facility has private toilets for each room! We’re quite progressive here at the Halls of Elucidation; the—” It paused momentarily and its eyes flickered to orange. “—that is, we’ve learned to draw a distinction between the types of opposition and deprivation which are conducive to motivation and those which are unnecessary distractions from the learning process. Over here by the door, on the other side from the opening pads, is your summoning stone! Turn it to the left in its housing til it lights up and it’ll activate a signal in the slave barracks, and one will attend you immediately. Slaves are here to be of use, of course, but Acolytes are not to use them frivolously.”
“Um…I don’t…”
“Not to worry, Acolyte, just exercise your best judgment. This isn’t an offense for which the Masters call down too much punishment. If—” Orange flicker. “You’ll be notified to correct your habits if…they are found objectionable. And of course you’ve got your personal slave; do you want to house her here or in the barracks?”
“Scio stays with me,” Tzi said quickly.
“What? What’d he say?” Scio demanded.
“Sounds good!” the Monitor said brightly. “There’s a sleeping shelf for her in the storage closet. I do recommend sending her around to the slave quarters at some point so they can give her an orientation, or she won’t know where or how to get things you’ll need. Oh, and you may want to exert a little more discipline, Acolyte. Your slave is your own business as far as I’m concerned, or any of the facility slaves, but—” Orange flicker. “—the Masters are less tolerant of slaves which speak out of turn before their betters. You could face repercussions if she offends…a teacher.”
Tzi’s eyes sharpened; she latched onto that word so hard she nearly forgot to be appalled by how things were done here. “Teacher. You mentioned…”
“Ah, yes! Your class schedule…” The Monitor froze completely; its eyes not only went orange but blurred out of focus for a moment. It took a second longer than usual to come back online. “Well, there, ah… There has been a slight schedule disruption. The class schedule will be posted soon, I’m sure. Once the…personnel issues are cleared up. That should be any time now! Until classes begin formally, you’ll be assigned self-study, Acolyte Tzi. Ati-Anin will requisition a spell lab and the ritual components you’ll need to learn your starter package, and I’ll instruct him to make the library available to you. The librarian is—” Orange flicker. “Um, your studies will be self-directed for the time being. Anyway! Welcome to the Halls of Elucidation! Get settled in, learn your basic spells, and the Overseer will have word sent to you when the class schedule is posted. I’ll leave you to it!”
“I—thank you,” Tzi called belatedly as the Monitor zoomed back out, the room door sliding shut behind it. She barely managed to control herself until it was gone and they had relative privacy before letting out a whoop.
“Whoah! What’s—are you okay?” Scio demanded, her ears standing upright in alarm.
“It’s a school,” Tzi exclaimed, rounding on her with a huge grin. “It’s a school!” She grabbed both of Scio’s hands and whirled the Mirbal about, capering madly in glee. “It’s! A! Schoooooool!”
“All right! Yay!” Grinning, Scio danced right along with her, catching the mood. “What’s a school?”