The young woman was giving Gavin a scrutiny of her own, and her eyes locked on his medallion, as everyone’s eyes so often did. Her eyes widened just a little bit, and she inhaled a deep breath.
“You’re him,” she said, almost a whisper.
“Him who?” Gavin asked.
A deep, rosy red flushed the young woman’s face, and Gavin guessed she hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud. She dropped her eyes to the top of her desk and fidgeted with her hands.
“I…well…it’s just that several of the College’s summer staff have seen Marcus with a young man wearing the medallion of House Kirloth, and my friend in the House Registry told me that Marcus registered a Gavin Cross as the heir to House Kirloth a few weeks ago.”
Gavin could see that the young lady’s embarrassment showed no signs of abating anytime soon, and he walked the four or so strides necessary to bring him to her desk, extending his hand.
“Hi, I’m Gavin Cross. I was told the Magister wanted to see me.”
The young lady still didn’t look up, but she did stand. Mumbling a “Please, wait a moment, milord,” she moved to the inner door, knocked once, and stepped inside.
Valera looked up from the book she studied at the sound of a knock, followed by the door opening. She saw her assistant, Sera, step into the office and close the door behind her…even going so far as to lean against the door as if blockading it.
“He’s here!” she said, though-for all its urgency-her voice barely rose above a whisper.
“Who’s here, child?”
“Lord Kirloth!”
“Who? Oh…do you mean Gavin Cross?”
“Yes!” Sera nodded with such force Valera feared for the young girl’s neck.
“Calm yourself, child. I’m sure he’s a very nice young man. Do please show him in.”
Sera opened the door just enough to slide back out to the reception area, and once the door closed, Valera shook her head, sighing. Being on the far side of sixty, she couldn’t remember the last time a young man bothered her as much as this Gavin Cross seemed to bother young Sera. Though to be fair, it wasn’t every day a newly-discovered son of one of Tel’s oldest Houses appeared in the College, either.
The sound of a door opening drew Gavin’s attention from the bookshelf whose spines he was examining. Half the reception area served as a waiting space with comfortable chairs, while the other half was a working office containing books and records. Gavin didn’t open any of the cabinets, but he saw no reason he couldn’t spend the time he waited, examining the books.
Now, though, he turned, finding the young assistant still refusing to face him, and he bit back a sigh. This was by far the most pronounced reaction to his medallion Gavin had seen so far, and he found himself even more unsettled by it than he was by people’s wide eyes and stepping out of his way.
“The Magister will see you now,” the assistant said and turned back to the door.
Gavin followed the assistant into the inner office.
The office Gavin entered was a tasteful, comfortable mix between a sitting room and an office. Doilies dotted the landscape, and a silver tea service rested atop an end table on one side of the room. A large, mahogany desk dominated the room.
What grabbed Gavin’s attention, though, was the older woman in a white robe rising to her feet behind the desk. Her long, wavy hair was the same color as Kiri’s, glossy black, though hers was streaked with gray, and she was about Kiri’s height, maybe just a touch shorter. Though a tad weathered by the years, her skin reminded Gavin very much of Kiri in its olive tone. What sealed the resemblance, though, were the green eyes that didn’t hide her intelligence or her zest for life. It was uncanny how much she resembled Kiri.
Gavin pushed those thoughts out of his mind as he approached the desk and extended his hand, saying, “Gavin Cross, ma’am. My mentor said you wanted a word.”
Valera gave Gavin a firm handshake, which allowed Gavin to notice amethyst runes on the sleeve of the woman’s robe. Those runes confirmed Marcus’s statement that she was the Magister of Divination, and from the robe’s sleeve, Gavin’s eyes went to the silver medallion that rested atop her heart. He froze. He recognized the House Glyph from the book in the Temple’s library. It was a dot in the upper-third, with a horizontal line coming in from the left and stopping at the edge of the dot in the middle-third. The lower-third of the Glyph looked like a letter T that had been rotated eighty-five degrees to the left.
Muran…she’s House Muran, the royal family of Vushaar!
Gavin realized he was staring and broke the handshake, saying, “I apologize. I didn’t mean to stare.”
“It’s quite all right, Gavin; my House Glyph is almost as rare as yours,” Valera said, indicating the chairs between which Gavin stood. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”
Gavin accepted her invitation and chose the chair to Valera’s right.
“Did your mentor mention why I wanted a word?” Valera asked as she resumed her seat.
Gavin nodded. “He did, ma’am.”
“I’ve known your mentor a great many years, and I very much doubt he stopped there.”
“No, ma’am. He also gave me his opinion of the topic.”
Valera sat silent for a few moments before saying, “May I ask what that opinion was?”
“He said he couldn’t see why you wanted me, ma’am, since I’m not an actual enrolled student…and he implied it was a waste of my time.”
Valera chuckled. “I’m not surprised. He has continually rebuffed all my attempts to put him in a classroom crammed full of our wizard students. He says what he has to teach is not for the faint of heart.”
Images of charred earth and molten rock, along with the words ‘fifty-three people,’ flashed through Gavin’s mind, and he met Valera’s eyes with his own, saying, “And I would agree with him, ma’am.”
“Yes. Perhaps, you would.”
Silence ruled the room for several moments.
“What I want to discuss,” Valera said, “is for you to be one of this year’s mentors. Each year, I find older students who I feel can serve as a positive influence and help the new students through the first year here. It’s nothing so formal as the Mentor/Apprentice arrangement outlined the Arcanists’ Code; I just borrowed the term.”
“But Marcus is right, ma’am; I’m not a student. I don’t know what classes are like here. I don’t know anything about the student culture here at the College or whom to see if a student has a specific problem. How can I possibly be a mentor to these people?”
“Gavin, I hope and pray with all my heart that none of our students will ever have to face the situations you’ve faced in the short time you’ve been with us. Still, I fear it is all too possible that they will. Would it not be better to present them a potential role model who has faced those challenges and correctly responded?”
Gavin sat silent for several moments. At last, he said, “How can you say that, Valera? How can you sit there and tell me that the deaths of fifty-three people was the correct response?”
“He told you about that, did he? A wizard’s first invocation is always the most uncontrolled use of his or her power that the world will ever see, and your first invocation was one of the most fundamental Words of Interation known to exist. In its use, you called forth incredible power; a lesser wizard would have died. You didn’t choose to kill fifty-three people; you were defending yourself and another. What other method did you have for doing so?”
Gavin sighed. “None, really.”
“Remember that. Now, about being a mentor…”
“I’ll do it.”
“Excellent. I’ll send Sera with a schedule of the Mentor Training and Orientation sessions.”