Only one event could suspend the rivalry between the College of Sorcery and the College of Swords: graduation day, where the Journeymen and their Protectors were named. A wave of expectancy and excitement billowed through the halls of both Colleges every spring, as the day drew nearer. Ice melting in the spring sun meant passable roads to distant places for Quests, and the idle talk of adventure bloomed along with the dogwoods on both campuses.

At any other time, the rivals of both schools were deadlocked as to who was stronger: might or magic. Each year, a new class of fresh-faced freshmen brought to the school a new spirit of bravado, and as they slowly became upperclassmen and adults they began to see how the two worked together. Most of the time, the rivalry was good-natured, and enough to keep both sides to a standard of excellence that represented the best of their Colleges; of course, sometimes bravado and brashness prevailed and the rivalry became something more.

In the heart of hearts of every student at the College of Swords was a desire to be named a Protector for a Journeyman Sorcerer. Each Journeyman was a hand-picked successor to the Master of a Tower, and charged with a Quest to prove the candidate’s worthiness to ascend to the exalted place of a Master. Since in olden days sending a young Sorcerer into the wilderness on a Quest so often proved more than the Journeyman could handle, and would often result in the untimely demise of those who otherwise had a chance to become the elite Masters in their later years, the Colleges had devised their own ingenious solution: appoint the absolute best of the College of Sorcery to guard and protect the Journeyman. From the ranks of the Knights who graduated were drawn the Protectors, the most elite group of fighters in the kingdom. Only a Protector was allowed to wear the star of the College of Sorcery as part of his heraldic banner.

Protectors and Journeymen often forged a lifetime bond on their quest, and some of lesser Knights would even became the lifelong guards at Towers. Sometimes the Journeymen became the advisors of the royalty who protected them, as in the most famous example of King Ier and the Master of the Orange Tower, Master Ballak. What started for students as a rivalry grew into what was the strongest bedrock of the security and stability of the kingdom.

The elite position of the Protectors came from the fact that there were only ten Towers, and each Master was appointed for life. Not many Protectors were needed, to such an extent that many honorary ones were named over the years when few were actually called up. Each tower was named after the color of the banner on which it flew the Star of the College Of Sorcery: White, Gray, Red, Blue, and Yellow were the original towers, and then came Orange and Sea, and then Brown, Purple, and Green. Each Tower stood in a geographical corner of the kingdom, but all had representatives in the College itself. The Masters were the storehouses and teachers of all knowledge in the kingdom, both magical and otherwise.

The buildings of the two colleges were situated on campuses which flanked a long two-acre sward of perfectly kept grass known as the lawn. Together, these two Colleges were tasked with training the best and brightest of the realm to assume the mantle of its protection and culture. Each had its own way of accomplishing the task.

The College of Sorcery was on the east side of the lawn, sprawled in a tangle of old stone buildings built up around the central Hall of Sorcery which had replicas of the Ten Towers. Among the buildings, a network of gardens, nooks, walkways, and hidden courtyards had spontaneously been created by the Sorcerers over hundreds of years. The students who walked into the College found a place almost removed from time, from the silent shelves of the Great Library in the Hall to secret conversations in hidden nooks among the wisest and most knowledgeable in the kingdom. Scholars from all over the world, as far as the Desert of Maurallia and the Three Islands, came to the Great Library.

As legend had it, Old Mallok, the wise man from Gren Port on the easternmost of the Three Islands, traveled over two years to come to the Great Library, and spent almost a year trying to find one passage in a book. He copied one sentence down onto a parchment, and departed. He never once revealed why he had come, or what the obscure sentence meant to him. The Great Library transcended such explanations: it was simply there, for all to make use of as needed for whatever studies they found interesting.

On the west side of the lawn, between the lawn and the wide, slow river which ran through the kingdom’s capital, the College of Swords lay. Unlike the College of Sorcery, every square yard of space was planned out in an organized, efficient manner. Barracks, mess halls, kitchens, practice fields, classrooms, exercise areas, the forge, and the quartermaster’s stores, along with all the other peripheral but necessary elements of a knight’s education, were run with precision from the Headmaster down to the Second Bellowmaster’s Apprentice.

From the campus of the College of Swords arose a low, arching stone bridge which gave access to what had become known as the Street of Swords. On the street could be found a collection of businesses which catered to the Colleges. Mostly, to the College of Swords, for those students visited the Street more often. The apprentices of Sorcery would have to either pass through the College of Swords itself to get there, or take a long roundabout way up to The King’s Bridge and back downstream. Some apprentices, of course, had the run of either College, most often the upperclassmen who had friends in the College of Swords and were well known.

For the underclassmen, “crossing the bridge” was something of a dare, and then later on a rite of passage of a sort. Upperclassmen would tell an unsuspecting freshman to take an evening off and go over the river and enjoy a night at an inn, and without a complete knowledge of the day-to-day realities of the rivalry, the freshman could very well do what was suggested, only to be back on his side of the lawn a few minutes later with much chagrin and usually bruises. Those freshmen with more acuity would dare their fellows to cross the bridge, often in a way that adumbrated campfire-like boogey stories of what might happen to them, or what had happened to others in the same situation.

As freshmen grew into life at the College and felt more confident, they began to perceive they had a right to go across the bridge when they needed to. Some had (or pretended to have) an official message from a Master or Teacher to take to somewhere on the western end of the city, and made a peregrination, sometimes with several friends, out of crossing the bridge, message quite visibly in hand. If that sort of thing met with success, they would try it with no particular mission other than finding diversions in the Street of Swords. In this way, upperclassmen from one College would meet those of the other, and they would begin to mingle some. But the process was ever so slow.

And, without any doubt, assignations and liaisons were occasionally affected by members of one sex who became attached to someone of the other at the other college. “Crossing the bridge” in these cases would be a most pleasurable experience, especially if the assignor was of enough clout in the College of Swords to make the passage an easy experience.

Most often would a willowy, pretty young freshman apprentice girl catch the eye of a burly knight-aspirant who would fold her slender frame in his thick arms and would whisper life-long commitments of love which would sometimes last until graduation, and sometimes beyond. Frequently, a young man who had lesser physical stature but the fragile good looks of an errant bard would catch the eye of an impressionable and lonely knight-aspirant girl who swooned to hear the poetry such a well-read apprentice could summon to charm her. And the young men had much incentive to be charming, since having a “Protector” on this small scale would cushion many of the blows of hazing which otherwise might rain down on him. If he could indeed sing, it would only help his cause. The happiest stories of the Colleges revolved around such pairings which eventually grew into life-long love stories, when the two would be paired as Journeyman and Protector (and the Masters knew this sort of thing when they met to see who might suit whom as a Protector, since such good matches were to the benefit of all, and the chance of finding true love would certainly never hurt recruiting).

The Street of Swords itself was a long north-south running bustle of almost any kind of shop whose proprietorship would be practicable in a college town. Some places catered to homesick young people by providing the kinds of food they missed from home. Other places of less good repute allowed young people to do the kinds of things they would not be allowed to do at home under the watchful eye of parents, but which they could now indulge in with impunity. Others sold the supplies, staples, and luxuries students had need of.

The inn known as Stoney’s Knob catered to the upperclassmen of the College of Swords. The commons room of the inn had a reputation of being the haunt of the these privileged people, and woe unto anyone not in this tightly knit circle of friends. Occasionally an apprentice Sorcerer would be seen in the inn, but always by invitation of one from the College of Swords. The proprietor of the Knob preferred this exclusiveness, since the upperclassmen generally had plenteous silver in their pockets and were generally mature enough to not cause a row. As a result, the inn was well kept and a friendly, comforting place for those who had survived being wrenched from their homes and the two years of plebian service at the College, and who had arrived at a comfortable time in their lives when they were well-established but not quite on their own.

Some of the current class, gathering on one cold night when spring had all but come to the city, were at their favorite table sharing a meal and a few pints as the fire flickered shadows against the low wooden ceiling of the common room. Almost no one was there but them, and their conversation was hardly interrupted by the quiet stirring of the inn’s waiters, cleaners, and supervisors. They liked having the place to themselves.

Princess Euris tuned out the conversation, and sat back to savor the moment. She had almost begun to take these evenings for granted here, gathered with her friends and eating good food. Her fingers ran absently through the long, thick black hair which she had earlier let fall free from the leather thong she used to tie it at the back of her neck and keep it out of her face. Now she let it fall as it would, looking out through her dark curls at her friends as she thought. Within a few short weeks, she would graduate and this most comfortable and enjoyable year of her life would come to its natural close. Then what? She closed her eyes briefly, not wanting to let the moment go.

She was startled back into the conversation when Arethin, the concièrge of the group who always kept the waters of their lives stirred, made one of his out-of-the-blue conversation-enlivening statements. “Did you hear the rumor that the Grey Tower was going to name a Journeyman this graduation?” Arethin said with a smile. He often repeated the latest rumors, just to see if anyone else had heard anything about them. But this one was completely new.

Around the table sat Euris, Arethin, and Laria. Missing was Lomron, who usually filled out the group. All three had entered the school only a few short years ago, and from such wide backgrounds and experiences they had slowly come together to do their growing up at the College of Swords as friends. Arethin was gregarious, a nobleman’s son from the capital, and often went out on limbs none of them would test; he somehow had gotten them into their biggest adventures. He throve on the legend of the errant knight, and was keen to graduate and be abroad in the world. Euris did not know if the world was quite ready. Laria was a small, quick girl from the far northern keep of Mauri who had spent most of her time studying the intricacies of fencing and was slated to be a King’s Champion upon graduating. Her fair features and curly blonde hair were unusual in the capital. She longed to represent the King this summer in the Tournament of Nations, and Euris wistfully wanted to see her take the laurels for her fencing. Lomron was a strong, stout fighter who had already been given a job as the head of castle security back in his home town. He, like Euris, was not particularly eager to go. She wondered if he realized how much he would miss being absent even one night of their gathering, once he had returned home.

The Princess Euris, herself, was the daughter of Prince Eugellis of South Port. She was one of the most exceptional students to come to the college in some time, and was second in her class to only the King’s own son, Royal Prince Muilin. She was usually the most reserved of the group, lending it quiet strength and steadiness. To her, it seemed like her friends just wanted her to be there. Since South Port was the home of the Sea Tower, she had some knowledge of the College of Sorcery. Princess Euris knew, in the back of her mind, that there was a Gray Tower. She had never seen its Master, and knew nothing of its apprentices.

“I have a feeling I will be named a Protector. Muilin will never be named one, and I am second in the class.” Her voice betrayed no pride, because it was simply a foregone conclusion. “I suppose then, if the Gray Tower needs a protector, that’s two.”

“And of course Graie’s honorary post,” Arethin snorted. Everyone knew that Graie was pregnant with the child of the Master of the Brown tower, and the scandal had not been kept quiet over the past year. Fortunately for Graie, she was beloved of the Brown Master, and he had seen to her by arranging for her to be named an honorary Protector, which added to the scandal since she hardly merited the post. Only the Brown Master’s lifetime tenure, and incredibly low profile, had stopped the situation from getting out of hand.

“I can’t imagine who would be named to the Gray tower,” Laria said to divert Arethin from the infinitely more interesting and lurid speculations on Graie’s situation (into which he sometimes lapsed, fancifully reconstructing what had gotten the unfortunate girl into her situation, for their amusement). “You’ll be named to the Sea Tower, Eurie, and that leaves several interesting possibilities.” Euris knew that it was simply a foregone conclusion. Who else would the Sea Master want for his apprentice? The Sea Tower’s Master had already said openly that he was going to name his own apprentice, Mattak, as his successor this year.

“Do you know anything about Gray’s apprentices?” Euris asked generally.

“I have lived here six years and have never seen Gray or his apprentices,” Laria said, “I didn’t know he had any.”

“Me either,” Arethin agreed.

Laria said to Euris, with a twinkle in her eye, “Mattak is certainly cute enough. I wouldn’t mind being paired up with him. There are worse fates in life.” Euris decided not to rise to the bait, and simply smiled. The apprentice of the Sea Tower, Mattak, was handsome, in his way, and by all reports (Arethin had made sure to brief her thoroughly) the young man was a model of a young sorcerer. Perhaps life would be good with him.

Euris left early, before the other two had finished for the night. She wanted to be alone, and breathed the crisp air deeply, shivering and wishing she had worn her winter cloak against the heavy night. But the cold felt good in its own way, and cleared her head. Crossing the bridge, as she had done so many countless times, the moonlight changed the scene and she paused, trying hard to burn the image of the quietly flowing river into her mind forever. The harder she tried, the more it slipped away from her. Without any warning, although it had been building all night, Euris was overcome by an uneasy feeling she couldn’t explain, as if something had been taken from her. Something missing. Abandoning the bridge, she jogged home, anxious to get to sleep.

On Graduation Day, both Colleges turned out on the lawn in their full regalia and pomp. At one end, a platform had been erected on which the Master of the White Tower, the head of the College Of Sorcery, sat with the Headmaster of the College of Swords. The King and his nobles were in attendance, and many people of influence had packed the lawn. Nobles sponsoring the youth, families, and people from all over the kingdom had come to witness this day. From every corner of the kingdom, the Masters of all nine other towers had come to sit on the platform, each below the colored banner of the tower. Only the White banner had stripes of all nine colors woven into it.

The Master of the White Tower was Aio, said to be two hundred years old. No one knew his age for sure, since he had been the White Master for longer than any other living memory at the College; he was the second and only other master of the White Tower, and a beloved figure representing the school. Beside him, attentive, was his own apprentice, Lothia, an old woman in her own right, but who had remained the Master’s faithful apprentice even when it was clear that she was administering the school for him, and he presided over the college in name while she ran the day-to-day operations, but she would never become the White Master herself.

The Master of the Gray Tower was a gray looking man himself, named Aeral. His gray beard and bushy gray eyebrows were in a pale face framed by a gray hood. His eyes were almost gone, watery and dim, and he was said to read by his magic seeing instead of his natural sight. His old hands gripped a gnarled cane, shaking slightly. Of all the Masters, he was the most reclusive and concentrated on pure research. That he was graduating an apprentice to replace him was news, mainly because the Gray Master was so close that no one knew much about his situation. His apprentice was rarely seen. Aio considered the Gray Master to be the mind of the College, the center of all knowledge and learning, and that came with its own price of staying out of the college’s limelight.

The Master of the Red Tower was the King’s own sister, Melline, and she was a celebrity in the kingdom, and Aio had often used her as the college’s spokesperson for funding, recruiting, and other public events. Her natural beauty, charm, and connection to the King allowed her success in the role, as she dazzled gangly young boys who had magical potential and won the confidence of shy young girls, landing the school its best recruits. Euris remembered her royal (or so it seemed) recruiting visit to South Port, which, because Euris was all but guaranteed admission to the College of Swords on account of her father’s connections, turned out to be a week-long event of the Red Master wending her way from function to function in the town, and not spending more than five minutes alone with Euris. Even as young as she was, Euris had seen the ways of the court enough to receive the visit with no more than private amusement. Many in the Kingdom thought that Aio ought to pass the Mastery of the College on to the Red Tower when he stepped down, but many more thought that the weight of tradition would win out. At least once a year, though, some proposal made the rounds of loose talk in which Melline abdicated the Red Tower and ascended to the White, although such a “sideways” move had never before happened in College history.

The Master of the Blue Tower was a dignified, reserved man named Chelar who came from the stolid stock of the central farmlands in the kingdom. His magic was that of calf-birthing, weather control, and crops. He was one of the Masters who infrequently appeared in the College itself, since he spent most of his time traveling all over the kingdom. His demesne was the administrative realm wherein he coordinated the hundreds of minor appointments of doctors, weather-workers, crop-blessers, and others who settled in the kingdom’s small hamlets and farming communities. Since no one of high position in the capital itself could believe that anyone would enjoy mixing with the peasants and farmers of the land, they convinced themselves he was some sort of master spy for the King, using his guise as a simple weather-worker to gather intelligence information. In truth, Chelar enjoyed walking from village to village, and was quite fond of the kingdom’s children.

The Master of the Yellow Tower always elicited surprise, since she was a dark southern woman named Quari from Baliar, south of even South Port. Her exotic looks and infrequent appearances at the capital made her the subject of rumors which built on rumors. She was said to be a great sea-traveler, who had gone to the Lost Islands and met with elves, and had fought magical duels with the Leviathan in the place of strange stars, and almost any legend attached to the deep sea was accreted to her rumorious fame. The truth would never have matched such speculative flights of imagination, of course, but she never bothered to correct anyone.

Beyond these Masters came the Masters of the two Towers which had been added to fill out the ranks of the sitting Masters to the number seven, which in magical circles was considered the mystical, magical, and complete number. Also, political patronage, funding for the college, and other more mundane and unmystical concerns had encouraged expansion, although they were not often mentioned in the official History of the College. With the tug and pull of both the mundane and mystical, two new towers were built to expand the college so many years ago that the original Five were infrequently recalled.

The Master of the Orange Tower was the newest Master, a young man who had few years between him and his Journeyman adventure. He was unusually strong for a Sorcerer, and cut an imposing figure. His was a story of true love between freshmen, and while Euris had met his Protector only once, she knew that the two were bound together in deep love. She often wondered about how such love blossomed and grew.

To Euris, the Master of the Sea Tower, whose color was aquamarine, was familiar. She had frequently dined with him, and when her father and brother came up to visit her, they often accompanied old Wasaris up on the northern road. If nothing else, the closeness between her family and the Sea Master put her in good standing for being named Protector. He was a kindly old man who had always encouraged her studies, and had given much of his time to help her learn as she was growing up in South Port. She always considered him an uncle.

The three masters of the new “expansion” Towers, Brown, Green, and Purple, Voran of Lassaite, Colbi of the Border March Lands, and Lilen of the North Forest hunting preserve (regardless of the fairness of it, the Purple Master was universally considered to have the cushiest assignment of all, and frequently thought to be little more than an entertainment director for the King’s hunts) sat to one side of the others. They were full masters in all rights and privileges, but they were still new and subordinate somehow to the tradition of the original seven towers.

Euris stood near the platform with the small knot of graduating students, and she was curiously numb. This was her graduation day, when she would become a Knight. Her life had been building to this moment. Laria alternately clutched her hand and stamped in place, excited. But Euris was back inside of herself, watching what went on. She was suspended in a place that did not allow excitement to enter, but which also did not permit the sense of loss to overtake her, and she was content to remain there and not let either upset the balance.

She looked over and saw her father. He caught her eye and smiled broadly, winking at her. She could see the glow of pride. But she also saw the larger streaks of gray in her father’s neat beard. After six years away from home, and with seeing her father more infrequently, Euris was more acutely aware of her father’s aging. He couldn’t be getting old, could he? The young man who carried her through the dockside fairs on his shoulders, and who patiently taught her to ride a horse, shoot a bow, and discern the hearts of the people of South Port? No, of course not, merely a trick of the bright light on the lawn. Her father would always be the warm, smiling man she held captured in her memory.

Her brother did not come to the graduation, since someone of authority had to have a firm hand on South Port, and he was his father’s successor to that position. Euralin, only a year older than she, had come up a few months ago for their own private celebration with only a few close friends, one which lasted several exhausting days and cost more than she could ever remember dissipating in her life. The money had been slipped to Euralin as a guilt-offering from her father, she had no doubt, to make up for Euralin not being here today. She wished for Euralin’s presence, but at the same time relished the memories of their celebration. The pair had had a checkered life together, with Euralin pushing her beyond her limits. He constantly made her do everything a little more beyond the point where she was able, goading her to grow. While they had always been friends, and constant companions, she had nursed an undercurrent of resentment towards him that became stronger in her teen years when she wanted independence. After she got to college, and learned what true competition was among the best in the kingdom, she grew to appreciate what he had been trying to do. Euralin knew early on that Euris was the better Knight of the two, and had taken it upon himself to make her live up to her potential. She had loved him more after all of the stories of jealousy among siblings which filtered through the halls of the College.

The King arose and said a few words to the effect of how proud he was of the young people representing his kingdom. An official scribe wrote them down to preserve them. A year later, perhaps no one in attendance would have any real memory of the speech. The transcript would be reverently placed in the Great Library, most likely to never be read again.

As the King droned on, and was supplanted by speeches given by the Master of the White Tower and the Headmaster, Euris looked around at her friends, and then her eyes glanced over at the apprentice Sorcerers. Among them, in a sea-blue cloak, stood Mattak. Euris looked at Mattak’s gold-highlighted hair, seeing the twinkle of expectation in his sea-blue eyes. She reflected that life with him would not be bad. She had liked his sense of humor on the few occasions they had mixed socially. Another upperclassman from outside of Euris’ immediate circle had invited Mattak to the Knob on two or three occasions, and he had blended in very well. He seemed to be mature, without losing a certain child-like quality she found attractive.

The Master of the White Tower stood up to begin the formal pairing ceremony. First, of course, the Protectors would be named to their Journeymen. After that, Knights would be named and knighted. Then, the lesser sorcerers who would never become Masters or attached to the Towers would be named to their postings either in the College as instructors or in the field where they would serve the villages and towns of the kingdom. The few purely administrative appointments would not be part of the public ceremony.

The White Master spoke in a magically augmented voice heard throughout the lawn. “To begin today’s ceremony, we are going to first name a Special Quest. This has not been done in many years, but always precedes the naming of Protectors. This will be the fifth Special Quest in the history of the Colleges.” Euris’ attention riveted on the words, since a Special Quest had been totally unexpected for everyone. Not even a rumor of an event of this magnitude had leaked out. She knew a little about Special Quests, those Quests which were appointed not for a Journeyman to prove himself worthy of a Tower Mastery, but which transcended all that sort of thing and pertained to the well-being of the Kingdom itself. She vaguely remembered Tarin and Malbor, subjects of a rarely-sung and long ballad which was sometimes still performed on long winter evenings. She couldn’t remember much about their Quest, other than it had to do with finding the great criminal mastermind who had stolen the King’s Egg. The ballad, while she was certain it was high art of its own sort, tended to put her to sleep before the action had even begun.

The White Master continued: “Apprentice Gath, of the Gray Tower, come forward.” Euris looked at Arethin with a smile. He was almost right: the Gray Tower wasn’t going to appoint a new apprentice to replace the Master, but would contribute one to this Special Quest. Euris saw a gray-robed apprentice she had not noticed on her earlier scan come forward. This young man was extremely pale, as if he had been sick for a long time and had been let out of his room for the first time on this bright and sunny day. She wondered why he had been chosen for a Special Quest, over apprentices she would have considered better able to withstand the rigors of such a testing, as she saw him walk slowly and stiffly up the platform’s steps.

Euris felt the world seem to stop for an eternity, and she wondered if what she was hearing was really happening to her. The White Master spoke: “Apprentice Princess Euris, come forward.” Unable to hide a visible start, the Princess glanced around. Laria looked blankly at her. Arethin raised his eyebrows in surprise. Recovering as well as she could, but hardly hiding the shock, she unsteadily advanced towards the platform. She did not look over at her father. With each step up to the platform, with her polished dress boots and silver spurs clicking against the stones, the knot grew in her stomach. The sun seemed hotter, and she felt her collar dampen. Her thoughts raced in circles.

Mounting the platform, she stood beside the apprentice as the White Master went through a formal ritual to appoint the Special Quest which few of the people present had ever witnessed or knew. The words washed over Euris, and she did not hear much. She mumbled a prompted response at the proper time, and took the hand of the Journeyman to whom she had just been sworn to protect. In truth, the apprentice, named Gath, looked worse close up that he had at a distance, but his black eyes contained a steely look of determination in them, as if he would prevail no matter what Quest were set before him.

After she had been sworn to protect, the star of the College of Sorcery was placed on her surcoat. The two of them were led by a page to stand at a place of honor. Euris would never be able to remember another detail of the ceremony she witnessed that day. She looked once at Gath and caught his steely eyes looking off into the distance, and she could simply not imagine what thoughts were going through his mind. He seemed strangely distant.

After the endless ceremony, in which she vaguely would remember the handsome Mattak being given into the arms of a beautiful blonde apprentice-knight whom Euris remembered as being haughty and aloof, the procession began. The Protectors and their Journeymen marched together through the lawn and into the College of Swords. Ironic, to Euris, that she and her apprentice, actually now Journeyman and she a Knight, led the way, even before the Crown Prince.

Gath leaned heavily on her arm as they moved across the familiar lawn which had, on this day, somehow become ten times longer than it was on familiar school mornings. In a way, her heart melted that he already depended on her. She felt like she belonged at his side, protecting him, caring for him. What greater honor could a Knight be given? In another way, if he wearied in a walk across the lawn, what sort of Special Quest would he endure? Was she to stand guard outside the library door so no one would disturb him as he read all of the books in the library?

Where was the Gray Tower, anyway? Euris had been to the College of Sorcery two or three times, once attending a party given by mutual friends, but did not know her way around at all. She hung back, hoping for his prompting. He sensed her hesitation through the hand on her arm.

“Through there, the gallery to the left,” Gath said in a husky voice as if he had not spoken in days. She led him through an arching arcade into a stone gallery which ended in a wooden door fully two times Euris’ own towering height. She noticed that she was several inches taller than Gath, although he was slumping as he walked forward to open the door.

The Gray Tower itself was small, and homey, with sagging bookcases and an ancient hearth and fireplace. The Master must have still been among the celebrants, because she could hear no sign of any other occupation. Among the books and the odd relics of magic were interspersed prosaic items like a stand with walking sticks, a carelessly thrown down pair of worn leather gloves, and a stuffed owl. All in all, the main living area of the Gray Tower had the look to her of the office of a scholar much more than the sanctum of a sorcerer. What powerful magic lurked here?

As she surveyed the room, Gath sat down heavily in a leather chair. She stood, wondering what to do. He gestured her towards a seat. Gath spoke: “Welcome to the Gray Tower, the second oldest tower to be built. It’s cramped, but we won’t be here long. I know that, normally, the Protectors tend to move into the Towers, but there’s no real need for you to do that, because we’ll soon be at our Quest.” His words gushed out, as if he were filling what would be an awkward silence for him with small talk at which he was not skilled in crafting.

“Which is?” Euris asked, the tension of not knowing wearing at her. She had awkwardly perched on a love seat which was in front of a huge bookcase, trying to manage her sword on her full dress baldric instead of her usual belt scabbard, and her spurs.

“Oh, all that will be explained in three days, when they’ve scheduled a Council to formally task us with the Quest. There’s no point in worrying over it until then. I’d have preferred to leave immediately, but my Master rightly explained that would cause an undue hardship on you. He said your father had come up to see you graduate. I rather imagine you had plans for this evening and for the next few days,” Gath said with a smile she couldn’t figure out. Was he rueful?

“I ...” Euris began, and stopped, completely unable to think of what she could possibly say.

“They’re probably looking for you now. Better go on and enjoy it while you can: this day will never come again.”

“Aren’t you going to enjoy the day with someone?” Euris asked him.

“Oh, no, I will stay here in the Gray Tower.” He said that with such an unemotional lack of inflection that it caused her to wonder about what he really meant.

“You’re more than welcome to celebrate with me,” Euris said impulsively, without thinking. How would her father and the Sea Master react to Gath? Yet she couldn’t be embarrassed by the person she had sworn to protect, could she? She simply couldn’t picture him and her father conversing.

“Thank you, but no,” Gath said, “and besides, after standing out in the sun all day, I must get some rest. Fear not for your oath! There is no safer place at all than the bowels of the Gray Tower.” His eyes finally twinkled, and he smiled the first genuine smile she had seen. “Besides, I somehow managed all these years without a Protector, and I think this Special Quest had more to do with next year’s budget than any merit you or I have to offer, if you understand what I’m saying, since they seem to name one just about every time a budget cut looks eminent. I was surprised, more than surprised, you were named my Protector. And pleased. Your reputation precedes you. I just hope that you aren’t too disappointed.”

Euris was extremely disappointed, and had been trying to mask the queasy feeling in her stomach by reminding herself of Knightly duty and the honor entrusted to her. He looked at her now with such genuine honesty that she couldn’t bear to let him know any of the myriad of conflicting feelings which had run through her mind that afternoon, because any of them would have crushed him. “I’m honored to be named to Protect you, and participate in a Special Quest. I was just taken by surprise, that’s all. I hope we’ll be good friends when we get to know each other.” She hoped she had been able to say that with feeling, without saying it like she was trying too hard to say it with real feeling. Either way, he accepted her words and showed her to the door. He said to be there bright and early on the appointed morning, and saw her to the door.

Euris reluctantly left the Gray Tower, and the Journeyman she had sworn to protect. As she moved alone down the arcade, her steps slowed, as she remembered the haunting black eyes. When she had thought she’d be the Protector of Mattak, she had made plans to attend her father’s formal dinner and then take Mattak out for some celebration until dawn or she was unconscious. She had thought the Sea Master’s apprentice would enjoy the best the city had to offer them. She had dreamed of making it a night neither would forget the rest of their lives. Those plans had evaporated faster than the morning fog on the lawn in the bright sunlight. Not wanting to leave the Tower and whom she should protect, not having any clue as to how she could celebrate with her Journeyman, not knowing what she would do herself on this suddenly strange evening, Euris walked slowly out of the College of Sorcery, trying to calm her thoughts.

She fixed her thoughts on the dinner, and quickly found her father on the lawn. He gathered up many close family friends, and led them and Euris into the College Of Sorcery, but this time Euris was led along to the Sea Tower, taking a second to glance down the arcade that led to the Gray Tower. She enjoyed the food, and soaked in the sunlight of her father’s praises. He, and the Sea Master, had put on a feast above all feasts in honor of their apprentices.

Euris was surprised her father didn’t ask her about the Special Quest, but enjoyed the reprise. He spoke little to the others, and with her the conversation mostly turned to her life and all the little memories of growing up, and how far she had come. He was exulting in her achievements, she quickly saw, and let him. She did not mention her own uneasiness. Somewhere, deep inside, there was a question in her mind about her future and just what would happen to her. But the events of the day and the swirling emotions pushed it aside, as something to deal with later.

She could not help but notice, since he was sitting at the same table, that Mattak had already managed to bond with his beautiful Knight Protector, as he frequently bent over to whisper in her ear, and one time even fed her a grape. Somehow, this made her more uneasy. Would Gath ever feed her a grape? Would the sickly apprentice, who did not excite any emotions in Euris at all other than duty, ever form any sort of bond with her?  She felt as if she had been cheated out of something. On the other hand, she was uneasy because, after all, she had everything she wanted in life: to be a Knight Protector, to be only the fifth Knight in history to go on a Special Quest that, for whatever reasons caused it to come about, would put her name in the elite of the College of Swords. Wasn’t this enough for anyone?

After the dinner was over, Euris wandered back to her room by little-used ways she had learned in the years of exploring the College of Swords until she knew every corridor and every turn in the dark. The wine she had at dinner tasted lifeless to her, even though it was some sea-vintage of unguessable rarity and sublimity saved by her father for just such a special occasion. Somehow, she didn’t want to go out drinking with Laria and all the others, answering their questions and enduring their needling. She longed for her brother to talk to, but he was hundreds of miles away in South Port. In her room, she removed her dress uniform and store it carefully, wondering if she’d ever wear it again, and then curled up in her familiar bed. Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought about the day’s events, and she slowly rocked herself to sleep.

On to ... Chapter Two: A Council