Collegium Ars Magica Ch. 01

The Novitium dwelt in a stunned silence for several long moments. Finally Eriad broke the mood with an exaggerated stretch. "What say we have a change of scenery and check out that bath hall now?"

***

Eriad and Xosana had both grown up with a good deal of privilege and finery; for them the bath hall was just toward the higher end of the indulgences they'd enjoyed regularly. For the other four it was like stepping into a strange and miraculous new dimension. The only running water Brook had ever known, until the rotating fountain yesterday, was the river in which she'd been born and swam every day of her life until she had departed for Trevethall. Ardo and Chenasi likewise had spent their lives in remote wild places bathing mostly in cold streams and ponds. Liro had grown up with water piped into the house from a well with a magically powered pump, but the bathtub was barely large enough to contain one adult and required a fire kept lit underneath it to heat the water.

The bath hall contained three pools in a row of various temperatures, hot, warm, and cold, each large enough to fit all six Neophytes at once, comfortably and with room to spare, and deep enough to fully submerge without laying down. The waters maintained consistent temperatures throughout their lengthy stay and seemed to be circulated to constantly refresh their cleanliness. A fourth long, narrow channel ran the length of the three pools, its cool, fresh water reaching just below Brook's breasts; it ran with a noticeable current from one end to the other with neither discernible entry nor exit at either end nor slope to its floor. Brook found it admirable for swimming laps in: short, swift sprints against the current to reach the 'upstream' wall, followed by a sedate crawl that let the current return her feet to the 'downstream' wall, at which point she would kick off into another sprint.

Ardo and Chenasi favored an alternation of prolonged soaking first in the hot pool (which reminded Chenasi of the natural hot pools her people sometimes visited along the foothills of the volcanic range where they hunted the rugged mountain sheep) followed by less prolonged plunges into the cold pool (which reminded Ardo of the chill of deep, high mountain lakes he'd paddled about in while tending his mother's mountain goats in the summer pastures as a youth). Two times the pair took the trek together to plunge into the cold pool and had a brief play-tussle in the bracing water, but mostly each did it on their own and splashed about a bit. Each trip back from the cold, Ardo would lay alongside the narrow channel and watch Brook weaving back and forth thru her courses for some time. When the moment was right, he'd lazily drop his arm under her as she passed to scoop her out onto his chest, rumbling to her that she was the prettiest little fish he'd ever swiped from a stream, all the while drowning in her rich blue eyes until she would cross them, puff out her cheeks, and start to flop about, quite like a fish out of water, which would set him to laughing and he'd gently roll her back into her current. She would shimmy upstream and hover at the wall until he returned to soak in the hot pool with Chenasi.

The urbane Neophytes congregated in the central warm pool, enjoying the visual and kinetic stimulus provided by the outlanders on their various transits from one place to another, be it between separate pools or continually back and forth in the same one. Surely, Eriad noted, there was an indication of the previous lifestyle of each of them reflected in the microcosm of this bath hall. Xosana seemed intent on remothering Liro, constantly hugging and caressing the waifish lad, cooing at him while tousling his shock of midnight black tresses. Eriad wondered how long it might take until she had him in her lap suckling at her breasts like a babe and whether his regression might benefit Liro as much as Xosana's projection appeared to benefit her. Liro was entertaining similar considerations, his own inner Oracle indicating 'fortuitous outcome' regardless of possible relativistic discrepancies. Xosana was thinking that any young man who could withstand regular repeated couplings with multiple Succubi must have an incredible source of virility and magical essence and that now, absent the constant power drain, with good diet and exercise, he would likely fill out and shape up to be quite a capable lover; besides she really liked his shy smile and brown puppydog eyes.

The moments flowed by sure and steady until at once a steady chiming began to sound, and the neophytes all quickly guessed that this was the noon bell, the signal that bathtime was over for now and lunch would soon be served. As they prepared to depart, they realized there were no drying cloths or robes for them. They'd all become quite accustomed to casual nudity, in each other's presence at least, since yesterday, yet, all felt an urge to at least dry off before entering the other room, aside from Brook, who had never bothered to dry herself before. After a moment's consideration Brook snapped her fingers.

"'Course, I think I got it! I can dry y'all off real good. Watch!" she stepped in front of Ardo and whisked her hands up and down along his body. All the water dispersed over his body was quickly directed down by her magic to puddle at his feet, which Brook then shooed into the drain at the corner. Even in his furriest places, Ardo found he was perfectly dry as if he'd been blown all over by a warm wind on a dry day.

"Who's next?" Brook laughed and snapped her fingers again and instantly there was a rush to be next in line to try out Brook's magic water whisking hands; suddenly being deprived of towels seemed to be a very enjoyable plight. Eriad began to wonder if there was anything in this situation that was an innocent coincidence. He wondered if it mattered at all; apparently his life was intent on displaying deeper, richer, more complex levels of significance than he had ever known before, the likes of which he had long imagined he ought to be experiencing. Maybe Liro wasn't the only one who had needed to get sprung out of his box for a change of perspective.

***

As indicated, a low, round table laid with light repast awaited them in the other chamber, surrounded by six cushions, each topped with a folded robe. All seemed identical, an orderly stack of simple soft brown spun linen with no markings visible.

Ardo asked what came to everyone's mind but which in his case was the most pertinent: "Which robe is for which of us, or does it matter?"

Facing the table, Eriad slightly lifted his hands close together in front of him, the tips of his pointers touching the tips of his thumbs, making a sign like two eyes peering at the table. "Scripta of our names are stitched inside the hoods, at the back of the collar, so, yes it seems it does matter a great deal." He quickly pointed to each place in series, calling out the corresponding Neophytes name.

The Neophytes circled around the table as he had indicated, each bending and lifting their robe from the cushion and spreading it open to examine the symbols embroidered upon them. Brook had learned the Scripti and their corresponding sounds but had never had reason to become fluent in their use; she was still a bit unsure about how some of them combined to Spell words, but she did of course recognize the BH embroidered in aqua blue thread. Ardo was quite familiar with his own people's runes, which also functioned as representations of speech sounds, but was still quite ignorant of the correspondences with Scripti Magi, which was in common usage among the more urbane societies of the Shining Realm, so he noted carefully the AD embroidered in blood red thread, committing these shapes carefully to his memory, slightly concerned about his deficiency in this area. Chenasi's people used no graphic representation of sounds; their chief form of written record consisting of simple pictorial symbols, ideograms relating to familiar named things, actions, and concepts, rather than sounds, and their combinations and compositions showed a marked tendency toward poetic expression; altho she was not entirely ignorant of the theoretical function of Scripti, the shapes were completely devoid of meaning for her and she would require the most assistance with deciphering the Scriptim, which were of great importance within the function of the Magisterium, so she turned to her left to ask Eriad for clarification.

"What sound for this?" she asked, pointing to the K of the SK embroidered in forest green thread.

"Ch" Eriad sounded out.

"Ch," she repeated, "Chenasi..." a wide grin spread across her face at her new accomplishment. "And this one, 'st'..." her bright eyes flashed to his as she fingered the S, "Stenda." She beamed proudly.

"Close," he smiled in encouragement, delighted by the great pleasure glowing on her face. "S, Stenda." He watched her grin fall away into the more stoic expression which seemed her norm, tinged with a hint of disappointment and frustration.

"S, Stenda..." she repeated solemnly.

"Yes, very good Chenasi!" he had felt energized and aroused by the previous wash of excited pride she had displayed and hoped to rekindle it; he had an idea. He turned his attention to his right, drawing hers along with a slight beckoning gesture of his right hand "Liro, show Chenasi yours."

The wan youth quickly colored from his ebony hairline to his rosy nipples, which at present were erect and quite pronounced. He had been interrupted from a reverie of shared attention with Xosana. Both were quite familiar with Scripti and felt less interest in the remedial lesson unfolding than in eachothers' eyes. The effect on Liro had produce a state of great excitation, resulting in a physical response which he very much wanted to show to Xosana yet was anxiously hiding from the group behind the robe held firmly below his navel to conceal his rather embarrassing predicament.

"Uhm..mm..mm...what did you say?" he stuttered, snapping his gaze away from Xosana's to meet Eriad's.

"Show Chenasi your Scriptum," he clarified, reaching in his enthusiasm to gesture toward the embroidered symbol visible between Liros tightly clenched fists. The lad startled and shrunk back as if he'd been threatened.

"Relax sweetheart, it's alright..." Xosana cooed to her darling youth. "Eriad, he's just nervous because I raised his pike with my gaze." She turned her gentle, playful eyes to Liro. "You might as well get used to it darling, I'm going to be doing it...often." Her tongue darted out to lick her plump bottom lip suggestively.

"I guess it's still hard...um I mean difficult for me... to show this, umm part errr...aspect of myself...I always felt I had to keep it so hidden away before, as if something terrible would happen if anyone found out.

"Well two birds with one stone then mate: let Chenasi look at your Scriptum and let Xosana gaze adoringly upon your rampant pike; you know she wants to."

"It's true, I do long to see it in such a state darling; I've been wishing for it all morning!"

"Oohhhh...alright then!" Liro courageously thrust his robe toward Eriad and Chenasi and leveled his eyes on Xosana, reveling in her clearly expressed admiration and delight.

"Oh Liro!" She gasped in awe. "It's so...huge! It's gorgeous! Absolutely perfect!" Both her mouth and her sacred grotto eagerly emitted their secretions as she beheld the splendid member thrusting proudly toward her across the circle; easily longer than both her fists stacked, and of a girth she imagined she might barely encircle fully within her grasp. It was strongly curved, like a thick scimitar of pulsing, veiny, crimson flesh presenting itself boldly against the alabaster skin of his belly. It's plump burgundy knob was widely flared, almost spadelike. "I suspect your endeavors with the Succubi have certainly blessed you with marvelous rewards!"

"Oh! Yuh...you think so?" he stammered as his heart pounded proudly within his breast.

"Darling, I do not flatter you undeservedly and as the daughter of a fertility priestess I assure you I have had wide enough exposure to such...things...to make a fairly educated assessment. You my dear lad, have been magnificently outfitted for the sports of love!" She batted her lashes at him as she bit her glistening lower lip and softly moaned.

"See chap, nothing to fear and naught to lose!" Eriad laughed jovially as he grasped the offered robe, holding it in front of him to display the LT embroidered in a fiery orange thread. "See here Chenasi..." he pointed at the one closer to her "L, Liro; T, Trevain. L, T." He then gestured back to hers. "See here: S, Stenda; K, Chenasi. Now see here," he fingered hers, "S, Stenda..." his finger tracked over to Liro's, "T, Trevain." He pointed to both shapes in series, "S, T."

Chenasi's eyes grew wide with awed, comprehension. "S, T..." she pointed to each as Eriad had just done, "S, T, enda!" her finger darted confidently to her breastbone with the final syllables.

"Yes! You've got it Chenasi!" he cheered her, excited by her leap of comprehension and the happy enthusiasm it evoked from her as she pressed her own Scriptum to her lips.

"S, T, Stenda; K, Chenasi!" she intoned exuberantly, then she dropped her robe to her cushion and turned toward Eriad with a radiant smile. "Much to thank for you, so kind Eriad, for teach me this things!" Suddenly she wrapped her arms tight around his neck and pulled herself into him, pressing her warm, smiling brown lips fervently to his mouth. Her piqued nipples pressed sensibly into his chest and he opened his mouth to her pressing tongue's advances, allowing it to dart nimbly inside to stroke his own in swiftly flickering swipes. He felt her strong warm fingers glide down along the length of his own rising shaft, their tips pressing gently into its firmness. Then just as suddenly her tongue retreated and she pulled her face away a short distance from his, still holding herself tight against him and fondling his fully aroused sex while staring into his eyes with a smoldering passion before dropping her gaze and breaking into a strangely shy grin.

"Also much to thank for you, Liro; is very...hem...help for me to learn of this." she raised her eyes to meet his over Eriad's shoulder then nodded her head slightly, and Liro noticed her glancing down at his jutting member, the same shy grin still playing on her lips. "Hem...also, she is speak truly; is very great special...hem...pike you are carry; very-very nice to me also for view it."

"Ummm...I'm happy I could ummm...give help for your learning, Chenasi...and thank you about ummm...your appreciation." His blush intensified just a bit as he swelled with a newly emerging acceptance of his sexual responsiveness.

"It is certainly an encouragement to find you all so delightfully...engaging with one another," Matrion called out as she strode toward them from the dark swinging curtain behind her, "However we have quite a trek ahead of us shortly, so I advise you to swiftly seat yourselves and eagerly enjoy this nourishing bounty which has been so graciously provided by our most beneficent host Magistratus Mendari; Grace and Benedictions be upon him. Patrion will join us shortly once he has completed arrangements for our Magisterial Shuttle to Tarsen Bottom. Eat well, my lusty young broodlings, there will be adequate time within the shuttle for digestion and I assure you that you will need all the strength you can muster for the challenges this afternoon's journey holds in store for you."

All quickly began to don their robes, save Eriad who turned to address Matrion without making any move to cover his nudity.

"Matrion, I was considering our new robes...I feel it is a great honor to receive them...they are after all the official badge of our acceptance as Neophytes and... I couldn't help but wonder...might there by any particular protocol to be observed in dressing and disrobing, appropriate occasions for each, and an accustomed manner of their appearance when worn?"

Matrion noticeably paused in her sure advance, becoming acutely aware of Eriad's poised presence and precise elocution. "My Word, Neophyte Sarsindahl, you are truly precocious! Quite rampant as well I see and certainly...cocksure! It's quite adorable but don't expect it to gain you any leniency." Matrion waved her hand toward the five hungry Neophytes preparing to sit and gorge. "Neophytes, remain standing and render solemn attention and all due respect to these indescribably relevant questions that Neophyte Sarsindahl alone possessed the requisite acuity to conjure into our collective consideration."

She turned to step directly into Eriad's very intimate personal space, increasing the straining of his insistent sex as it pressed into her softly curved belly through her silky Magisterial Robe. She brought her full lips very close to his ear nearest the others, so close that he could feel her warm, moist breath curling into it as she spoke in a slow, measured, flowing cadence, her voice modulating in low, dulcet tones just loud enough for the others to hear clearly in the close, still silence of the space. "Your questioning is well considered, indeed; I assume it demonstrates that you are...after something. Whether you will attain it is a matter entirely of your ability and persistence. This is the nature of all magical work Neophytes; know it well and expect no quarter. We your benefactors are not here to coddle you, improve you, entertain you, or...flatter you, but to advise you and direct you to become as able and persistent as you can become; this is the sole and neverending dictate at the core of our Practicum. To that end, anything that you do to attempt to alter the course of our advice and direction will succeed or fail entirely dependent upon whether you prove able and persistent enough to counter our ability and persistence. Have I made myself perfectly clear Neophyte Sarsindahl?"

Matrion had ended his name as a delightful purr in the back of her throat that sent shivers coursing up and down his spine. Eriad was suddenly unsure of what he had actually intended with his questioning? Had he been trying to impress Matrion with his ability to overthink the significance of details that the Adepti had not considered significant enough to belabor them with at this point in time? Was he trying to charm her with his masculine confidence and verve? Had he been seeking acknowledgement of his ability to recognize subtle levels of awareness and intentionality that others, even his new fellow Novitiatae, lacked the sufficient acumen to discern and elucidate? Was he really such a pompous, attention-seeking ass? So eager to distinguish himself above and beyond those that he would now be daily depending upon for support and understanding? Or had she just verbally toppled him on his head because she simply didn't want to be bothered with his ill timed beleaguering of minutiae when she was trying to get them prepared for a rather propitious and by her account arduous journey? Why was he still wasting their collective time internally chasing his own tail instead of simply answering her question so he and the rest of his Novitium could proceed to follow her most likely excellent advice and direction? He wasn't really very clear about any of it.

"Come now, Neophyte Sarsindahl, it's really of no concern to anyone here at this point in time whether you are or are not in the slightest bit clear about your own motivations and questionable interjections. The rest of us, I'm sure, would prefer to get on with preparations for our imminent journey and are simply waiting on your answer to my question, which was a simple one to be sure, requiring a simple 'yes' or 'no' to satisfy it. However since you apparently are busy with a great number of extremely important considerations, you may not have managed to fully grasp the relevant structure in its simplicity so I will now repeat it precisely for you so that you may give it your full and undivided consideration." Matrion's left hand slid between their bodies to cup his testes in her palm. "The question, as stated, that has been asked of you is: "have I made myself perfectly clear, Neophyte Sarsindahl?"