"Educated? I thought that the school they have here would have been in some other building."
"The Initiates stay in other towers," he said, "but we Novices are here."
"Why do they all wear different colors?" he asked curiously.
"The Initiates? It's their rank," he replied. "Except the ones that wear brown. Initiates who wear brown aren't Sorcerers, they're just the advanced people in the school. They're here in the Tower too, in the levels above the library."
"Which way will you go?"
"I don't know yet," he said. "All I've learned so far is history and geography, and they've taught me about fifty different ways to add two and two together," he said ruefully. "But they haven't given me the Test yet." He led Tarrin down another passageway. "I'm not entirely sure which way I want to go. Seeing the Sorcerers here, it's made me interested in what they do. But if I do end up learning Sorcery, it's bound to make my parents very mad. They're paying alot of money to send me here. But, on the other hand, if I do have talent, they don't have to pay anymore," he said with a smile.
"Hmm," he mused. "My parents weren't quite so lucky. They made me come here."
"The Test?" he asked.
Tarrin nodded.
"I didn't know they tested Wikuni."
"I'm not Wikuni, and I wasn't like this when they tested me," he told him.
"I wasn't sure," he admitted with a short laugh. "I know alot of Wikuni from when my parents bargain with them, and you don't look like any Wikuni I've ever seen. But you look almost like one. I thought maybe you were a deformed Wikuni."
"No," he assured him. "I'm a Were-cat."
"Truly?" he said in wonder. "Then none of the stories I've heard of the Were-people are true, are they?"
"Probably not," he said. "Well, the part about biting is true," he added somberly.
"That's how it happened?"
He nodded. "It was just one of those dumb things," he said. "I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." That much was true, to a certain degree. If he'd chosen another bedchamber, it would have been Walten, or Tiella. Or maybe even Faalken or Dolanna. Or maybe nobody.
"You took it better than I would have," he said. "I'd still be screaming."
"I'm over that now," he said. "It's actually not that bad, once you get used to it."
"I'd rather not find out," he said.
"Smart man," Tarrin agreed. "The getting used to it is not pleasant."
"I didn't think it would be." They went through a door, and entered a huge room, much like a grand hall. There were tables and benches aligned in orderly rows in the center, with a single table on a raised dais on the far end of the room. There were already a great many people in the room, and almost all of them were sitting quietly at the tables, where a myriad of different foods sat and waited. The smells of them made his stomach growl. Sitting at the table on the dais were several men and women wearing assorted dresses, shirts, doublets, and robes, but Elsa was seated firmly in the center of the table facing the assembled Novices. Dar led them to the closest empty seats, and he had them sit down fast. "Anyone standing once the Mistress starts the meal prayer is sent away hungry," he explained in a very low whisper.
Tarrin nodded calmly, taking in the nervous reactions of the other Novices seated near and around Tarrin. They all couldn't help stare at him, but they tried to make it inconspicuous. He decided that ignoring them would be the best thing to do. Not an arm's reach away, a large platter of roasted ham sat, almost taunting him. It was a tremendous act of will not to reach out and take it.
"Everyone stand!" Elsa's booming voice called across the hall. All the Novices stood respectfully and bowed their heads. Tarrin endured a short little speech from Elsa, where she invoked the blessing of some Goddess on the meal, but Tarrin didn't listen to her. He was more interested in hearing her voice stop than he was listening to her speak. When the Novices began to take their seats, he realized that Elsa had stopped talking. He sat down with Dar, and when he saw several people reach for platters of beef, or pork, or a bowl of potatos, he knew that it was time to eat.
He graciously let everyone else take what they wanted off the platter he was eyeing, then he reached out and took the entire platter. "Anyone else want any of this?" he asked pointedly, holding it out. When nobody answered, he pushed his own plate away and set the platter in its place. He looked at the small-handled fork by the plate with a bit of annoyance, and instead used the large serving fork that was on the platter. It had a handle large enough for him to use. The knife too was too small, but the claw on the index finger of his free hand was more than capable of being a substitute for a knife. The razor-sharp tip of his claw neatly sliced up the meat to his liking, then he used the serving fork to get it to his mouth. Someone poured fresh, chilled milk into a pewter mug that was beside him, and then that person moved down to do the same with Dar's mug. He was more interested in the food, however, and he managed to finish off the entire platter of roasted ham, which had enough ham on it to feed five. Dar gave him a rather wild look as he pushed the platter away and took a drink of milk. "Do you always eat that much?" he asked.
"Not always, but I'd been moving without eating much before I got here," he replied. "I'm just catching up on missed meals."
"I can understand that," he said, going back to his own meal.
Tarrin could almost feel the energy of the meal surge into him as he sat there drinking his milk and waiting for Dar to finish. Now that his body had more raw material to work with, he was very certain that he'd not look even half so thin by dinnertime. He was looking forward to the studies with Sevren; he was curious just what his body was capable of doing. This ability to restore lost body tissue was most interesting. But then again, he felt that he should have known it would do that. Something in the back of his mind, he thought it was the Cat, told him that he could grow back missing limbs, except for his head, and even regrow lost teeth and claws. It was part of the regenerative capabilities inherent with his kind.
And, he realized, it was the reason they didn't age. The regeneration healed them of the effects of time, repairing any damage brought on by the marching of the seasons. That was only logical, he realized calmly as he sat there. The effects of time were not natural; well, they were natural, but they were not the natural state of his body, and that was how his regenerative ability maintained him. An older him did not fit into his body's imprint of itself, and so it was corrected by regenerative healing.
Tarrin was only seventeen. He hadn't lived long enough to be able to appreciate the profound concept of living until someone killed him, maybe for thousands of years, but he was wise enough to know that he wasn't old enough. It was something that he would have to think about in the time to come, something to ponder.
After the meal, Dar took Tarrin around the Tower. They went to the Library, the scribing chamber, out on the grounds, to the huge garden behind the Tower, then they walked along the highly polished black tiles of what was known as the Heart of the Goddess, a massive open space in the exact center of the Tower that ran from the base right up to the top. While they walked, they talked. Dar was an earnest young man with high goals and ideals, but they didn't include what his family wanted from him. He was an accomplished artist, and he wanted to pursue that, while his family thought it was frivilous. He also wanted to learn. He was wildly curious about the world, and he almost didn't want to leave the Tower, to leave the vast Library, which was one of the largest and most complete in the world. They strolled along the black tiles around the edge, near the wall, as Dar confided certain things to Tarrin that he knew the young man had not told other people. Dar and Tarrin seemed to just connect, and he realized that he already considered the young Arkisian a close friend. The Cat in him liked Dar just as much as the human did. In the base of the floor, in a huge design, was the shaeram, the geometric star-in a star-in a circle design that was the symbol of the order. It was done much differently than the medallions he'd seen, and that pointed some things out to him. The medallions were a four-pointed star with concave sides inside a six-pointed star. This symbol resembled that six pointed star, but instead of a star it was six individual triangles laid out corner to corner, third point out, all contained within the circle. Each triangle was a different color. They were red, blue, a shade of purple like violets, orange, yellow, and a lighter shade of purple that was obviously a different color. The circle encircling them was green, and the concave four-pointed star within was white. The design had to be about fifty paces across, taking up about three quarters of the floor.