The University was an amalgamation of of ideas, principles, and of eccentric architecture. It had been built on the remnants of an old school just after the war was over. Some of the buildings made in the fashion of the city that surrounded it, high wooden stilts and low sloping roofs, but most of them Spelled from elements in the ground, the air or even the sea in the same fashion that the Towers had risen.
There was almost no planning that went into it. Each of the founders had their own idea about how things would look and function in their department. The Regulators had built squat fortress-like buildings, weaving fibers of carbon from the air into the shimmering walls now covered in sediment from the sea. The alchemy department was a spotless array of labs that had been built by hired workers using manufactured materials woven from sand and oil. Wendel had been forced to learn all of this when he was wearing a red robe.
He stood outside the worst building on the campus, the Room of Shame. It was not officially called that, it was actually called the Hall of Futures. Milling around the entrance were students wearing seven different shades for the seven different years. Red robed first year students would weave their way through the crowd and then reemerge quickly from the room either grinning or skulking. Second and third years, in their orange and yellow robes would usually arrive in groups, but they never lingered long. The first three years were very forgiving.
Today was the final day that the scores would be posted before the room was sealed for the break, and it was a sea of violet that stood around the entrance. Wendel watched from the outside as a girl in a violet robe with two black sashes pushed her way through the crowd and into the hall, only to reemerge with tears streaming down her face.
“Shame about her, I think she has a problem with reading,” it was his sister Fiona’s voice and it startled Wendel so much he jumped back and almost tripped on the hem of his robe. “Worried you’re going to have to wear a black sash?”
Wendel cast his eyes down to the paving stones. “Do you think father would pay my tuition for another year?”
Fiona put her hand on his shoulder, “First repeated year is double,” she said, “do you think he’s going to have to?”
Wendel didn’t want to think about begging. “What are you doing here?” He asked.
“I talked to Dean Stinson, he told me about your application and what you intend to do if you get your gold card tomorrow.” She answered.
Wendel turned to her and took in her inkstained sleeves and her brown hair that always stood straight up. Fiona was a foot shorter than he was, which put the tips of her hair right at eye level. Small as she was Wendel had always been terrified of her, the child prodigy that got her gold card when she was seventeen and her doctorate at twenty. He wanted to hate her, he had always wanted to hate her. He couldn’t though, he admired her too much for that and even worse, she had always defended him.
“Come on,” she said, leading him by the shoulder towards the entrance. Fiona was a department director, and the students parted for her like blades of grass in the breeze. Outside, the Hall of Futures had four walls, and seemed to be roughly the size of an outhouse. Inside there were seven walls and it was massive. Large enough to hold a hundred students, which was why it was always so hard to get through the entrance.
Red, orange, yellow. Green, blue, indigo. Fiona made a slow circuit of the room passing each wall in turn. Hung dead center on each wall was a massive sheet of glass with a piece of parchment pressed behind it. Violet. The students had formed a sort of semi-circle around them when she reached the seventh wall. Wendel could see mouths moving, but he couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his own heart in his ears.
Fiona extended her hand to the glass on the wall, and touched her finger to it. The parchment behind the glass began to slowly rise and she slid her finger up, and Wendel took a step to get close enough to read the names. To the left of each name was a number, starting with the valedictorian and edging down. Further and further until at the very bottom of the glass he saw a thick black line with more names below it. The names of failures. Pressure was building behind his eyes and the edges of his vision were getting blurry as the black line slid higher and higher and still she didn’t stop. He could no long read the names, all he could see was the black line of failure racing towards him. Until it finally stopped, on her finger.
“Wendel,” her voice was faint and distant, “Wendel!”
He tried to speak, but his saliva tasted of metal and his tongue seemed to be plastered to the roof of his mouth. It seemed his eyes had clenched shut of their own accord. He wanted to run, to flee from this pain.
“Wendel! Congratulations!” Fiona exclaimed.
Wendel forced his eyes to open. All he could see on the parchment was the black line, but she pulled her finger back, he noticed his name. It was on the line, but it was above it. Last of my class.
“For what,” he muttered.
“Wendel, what do you call a mage who graduates last in his class?” Fiona asked, and he felt her pull him in for a hug.
“A failure.” He said into her tickly hair. Tears were welling in his eyes.
“No. You call him a mage. Congratulations, little brother, you did it.” She released him from her embrace, “I have some things I need to attend to, but don’t think I’ve forgotten about what you applied for, I will find you tomorrow after the ceremony.” Fiona turned to leave, but before she could a student Wendel had been friendly with in his first year approached.
“Professor Regan!” Wendel knew that Jaque was the same age he was, but he was much taller, and thinner. He had square shoulders and a square jaw, with brown hair that seemed much nicer than Wendel’s red-blonde hair.
“Yes?” Fiona was half a head shorter than Jaque, but her hair towered above him.
“I was just coming over here to,” Jaque paused and seemed to notice Wendel for the the first time, “Invite my good friend Wendel here out for a celebratory drink.”
“So invite him. I have work to do.” Fiona started to take another step, but Jaque moved in front of her. With all of his bulk, it seemed accidental, but Wendel wasn’t sure.
Jaque said, “Wendel, isn’t Professor Regan your sister?”
Wendel sighed, he really hated it in the Hall of Futures, everyone was trying to push past the three of them now that they were standing with their backs to the posted scores. “Well, half sister, what were you saying about going out tonight? Will Marin be there?”
“What?” Jaque seemed confused for a moment. “Course Marin will be there, she’s my girl. In fact, Professor Regan, she and I both applied to apprentice under you.”
“I really must be going,” She turned to Wendel and patted his shoulder, “Try and have some fun tonight, you’ve earned it.”
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Wendel had never been to this pub before, and if Jaque hadn’t said that Marin was going, he’d have never accepted. The kinds of places he frequented served food. They pushed their way in through the crowded entrance and Wendel looked around. There was no food to be seen. There were lots of drinks, though. Of the five people he was with, he only knew two of their names.
“Gloria! My usual table, darling.” The gorgeous black man, with shoulders twice as wide as Wendel’s shouted at the blushing hostess. Wendel thought he may have had a class with him at some point, but more than anything he knew he was the valedictorian and their apparent host for the evening.
“The place is pretty full tonight, Rickard, what with graduation and all. Do you think you could all squeeze into a booth? Otherwise, I don’t know when you’d get a table.”
Rickard grabbed two of the girls and said, “Of course we can!” The hostess, Gloria, led the group to their booth. Wendel followed behind Marin, stiff with discomfort.
Wendel looked down at his violet robes and wondered that most of the other students managed to fill them out. His hung on him like curtains on a window. He was pleased to see Marin shrug off Jaque’s arm when he tried to place it on her shoulder.
When they all reached the table, Wendel slid in immediately, against the wall. No one else seemed much interested in sitting. Rickard seemed like he had to greet the whole bar. Wendel was looking dejected, at the table in front of him wishing for a menu to hide behind. He knew only Jaque, and didn’t know him very well. They’d been friends, once, wearing the red robes of first year students, but Jaque had made new friends and left Wendel behind.
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The table flashed purple and deafening cheer rose. He looked up, startled, in time to see the sparkling trails of a violet seven etched in magic. The glimmers shone all colors of the rainbow as they fell, and Wendel wanted nothing more than to leave. He stood up, but Jaque was sliding into the booth with Marie after him.
Rickard shouted, “Enough! I couldn’t possibly Spell again without a round of drinks for my friends!” This was met with uproarious laughter, and Rickard took a bow. The brunette girlfriend pulled Rickard into the booth behind her, and the redheaded girlfriend snuggled up after him.
A tall willowy woman approached the table with a tray held easily over the throng of people. She lowered it to show that it had six shallow, long stemmed glasses with brilliant purple liquid, and six small colorful glasses. As she started setting them out, Wendel asked in confusion, “I haven’t ordered anything, I haven’t even seen a menu...”
“Who brought this guy? You’re too much!” Rickard laughed.
Jaque yelled over the roar, “This is Professor Regan’s brother! Remember?”
The waitress said, “These are crucibles and dropouts! From those girls there.” She gestured over towards a table full of indigo robes and long, styled hair. “Here, let me light them for you.” The woman took out a copper pen and reached over the table to the drinks. Her blouse fell open and Wendel found himself staring straight at her chest. She touched each tiny glasses and it burst into flame. When she lit his, she gave him a wink, and he saw his purple drink in it’s long stemmed glass, transform to brilliant gold. Tomorrow they’ll give me a gold card, and I’ll be a mage, Wendel thought.
Everyone raised both glasses, and Wendel hurriedly raised his. “Here’s to Regan and her bottlebrush hair!” Rickard said. They touched the flaming glasses, and Rickard threw the fiery drink down his throat. Wendel looked at the small glass brimming with fire, and raised it to his lips. His nose brushed the flame and he smelled singed hair. He looked around, panicked, and saw the girls blow out their drinks. He blew on his, and drank the uncomfortably viscous and warm liquid. Each color slid over his tongue in a different flavor.
Everyone had sat their small glasses upside down on the table, and held only the golden cocktails. Wendel followed suit. He sipped at his ‘dropout’ or maybe his ‘crucible,’ he wasn’t sure which was which. He hoped it would wash seven years of school out of his mouth. “This is quite good! What do you think’s in it?” he said, to no one in particular.
“Success!” Rickard roared, drinking it like water.
Wendel took another sip and mumbled, “I think it tastes like honey, actually.” The brown-haired girl across from him must have heard him, because she giggled and touched his foot with hers. Did she just kick me? Wendel worried, and hurriedly pulled both his legs against the bench.
Wendel’s ears pricked when he heard Marin’s voice say, “Liza, have you given any thought to what you might do now?”
The redhead said, “I have signed up to apprentice under Madam Druce.”
Rickard scoffed, “Do you think that’s wise? She’ll probably be dead before you get your doctorate.”
Liza looked startled and Marin said, “That’s not a very nice thing to say, I quite like Madam Druce.”
“I’m not saying I don’t like the old girl, I’m just saying that she’s got one foot in the grave!” Rickard said.
Jaque turned towards Wendel. “Speaking of apprenticeships...” He nearly put his mouth on Wendel’s ear.
Jaque was interrupted by the waitress with another tray. “We’ve got frogbottoms now! These are courtesy of those young ladies there.” She waved to a table of green robes, squealing with laughter. The drink placed in front of him was clear blue, in a test tube propped in it’s own wooden holder. A tiny emerald frog floated in the bottom of the tube.
The girl that had kicked Wendel, touched him playfully on the arm and said, “I haven’t had one of these since I was in green robes myself. I still believed what they say.”
Wendel cocked his head, “And what do they say?”
“Oh, you know. Frog bottoms make bare bottoms.” She punctuated that by squeezing his hand.
Liza picked up her test tube and said, “That’s nonsense, Riney, it never took a frog to get you to bare your bottom.”
Rickard raised his test tube and yelled, “To bare bottoms!” loud enough for a nearby table to let out a whoop. He threw it back, not even chewing the frog. He stood, with the empty tube raised above his head. Shining smoke erupted and coalesced into a girl with green robes. She looked around and started to raise her robes above her knees and bend over. At that point it exploded into white sparks.
The cheers reverberated off the walls, nearly drowned out by shrieking laughter from the girls in green. Wendel drank his quickly and noticed that the frog did not come out with the drink. He shook it, and then tapped it upside down on his hand forlornly.
Marin proclaimed, “I think that’s great that you’re going to study alchemy. You were always very good at it. What about you, Riney?”
“I put in an application to work on a ship, as a windcaller.” The brunette girl sounded wistful.
“Really? You’re not going to do an apprenticeship?” asked Marin.
“I just want to get out of here, you know? I have three years to make up my mind about that.” said Riney.
Liza exclaimed, “Three years to be on a ship with a hundred strong young men, sounds like to me!”
Rickard yelled, “To strong young men!” He raised his empty test tube, and scowled at it. “Why don’t we have more drinks yet?”
Jaque put his mouth near Wendel’s ear again, and said, “Speaking of apprenticeships, I was hoping you could put in a good word for me with your sister.”
Marin sighed and said, “Jaque thinks he’s going to get one of the three spots under Professor Regan. He didn’t even put in any other applications.”
Liza sounded put out, “I didn’t put in any other applications either.”
Marin replied, “I know, but Madam Druce will take anyone. No offence.”
Liza laughed and said, “None taken. She thinks that alchemy is the only thing at the school worth studying and encourages anyone to study it.”
The waitress showed up with an empty tray and said, “There is a man at the bar who claims to be a professor. Says his name is Veles. He said he will buy a round of drinks for you. Whatever you’d like.”
Rickard said, “Whatever we’d like, he says. I’d like six Fabulous Flernums, how about that?”
The waitress continued, “He said anything, as long as you cast the spell that got you kicked out that one night.”
The surrounding tables went quiet. “Alright,” Rickard said, “But for that I want the whole bottle.”
The waitress left, with her tray covered in empty glasses. Wendel watched his tiny frog walk away sadly. He had been thinking about what Jaque said, and not paying much attention to Rickard and the waitress. He turned to Jaque and said, “I don’t know what good it would do, and I don’t even know what I would say.”
Jaque gesticulated grandly and said, “Tell her that I’m spectacular! How I was better than you in every class!”
Wendel said sadly, “Everyone was better than me in every class.”
Riney said, “Don’t say that! I’m sure you are better than you think. What are you going to be doing, anyway? We’ve all told you.”
“Not everyone has. Rickard hasn't! Neither has Marin.” said Wendel.
Liza looked up from Rickard’s chest, “Everyone knows what Rickard is doing!” She wrapped her arms around him.
Rickard did not seem interested, he was watching to see if the waitress was going to bring a whole bottle of Flernum to the table. Marin also said nothing, and now Wendel was curious, “What about you, Marin,” he asked timidly.
Marin put both of her hands on the table, “I applied for an apprenticeship, under professor Regan,” she sighed and continued, “but I also applied for other things, because there are only three slots!”
Jaque threw his hands in the air and practically shouted, “You graduated third in our whole class, of course you’re going to get accepted!”
The waitress was standing at the end of the table again, Wendel didn’t know how long she had been there. He felt like he had said something wrong, but she was holding a tray with a tall black bottle and six glasses, “Veles, if that’s even his real name, said you’re on. He put his money down, but he said if it doesn’t live up to the legend, you’re paying for it.”
Rickard flashed a devilish smile, “Won’t be a problem.”
The waitress smiled back, “I know it won’t, and just so you know, I didn’t tell Tone about this little arrangement, but if Veles wants his money back, he’s getting it from you.” She placed a glass in front of everyone and then took the bottle from the tray and placed it in the center of the table. “Need me to open it?”
Rickard’s smile widened, “Course not.”
Wendel stared at the black bottle in the center of the table. It didn’t seem to have a cork. What it looked like was a shadow. The light seemed to avoid it. “How do you open it?” He heard Liza ask.
Rickard reached for the bottle, and seemed to pull some of the bottle from the top. It drifted off like dust. “Just have to know where to put your fingers.” She pushed his shoulder and laughed. Rickard poured a little bit into everyone’s glass, and as he did so the bottle itself seemed to be getting smaller.
Marin ignored her glass, and practically crawled over Jaque to look at Wendel, “Everyone has told you what they’re going to be doing after graduation, so it’s your turn.”
Wendel felt a happy warmth in his stomach, this was the best night he’d ever had in the school. He blurted it out all at once, “I applied for an apprenticeship, under Doctor Mendez.”
Immediately he realized how foolish it was. Everyone turned to look at him at once, and it seemed like the conversation at the two closest tables stopped. Rickard even seemed taken aback, “Are you joking,” he asked, “It’s hard to tell with you.”
Wendel wanted to take it back, to laugh and to say that it was just a joke. Instead he said, “No, I asked the dean to mail her a letter and I filled out the formal application.”
“Listen to this!” It sounded like Rickard had altered his voice to make it louder, or maybe the pub had just gotten quiet at that moment, but everyone turned their eyes at once to look, “This guy applied to apprentice under the Good King’s Sword!”
There was a murmur that swept through the crowd. Riney put a hand on Rickard’s arm, “That’s enough, if he wants to try and apprentice under her, that’s his business.”
“What? Let’s raise our glasses,” Rickard grabbed his glass of Flernum and everyone else did so slowly. Riney was the last to pick hers up before Wendel finally grabbed his. “Here’s to Professor Regan’s brother, and the three months he has left to live.” He pushed his glass forward and tapped it on everyone else’s in turn.