Laying back on his mat, trying to fall to sleep in his small, neophyte cell, Stephen reflected on his first day at the Wizard’s Guild.

After his arrival, when he saw Harim and tried to talk to him, Stephen had been told that it was inappropriate for a neophyte to try to engage a Master. He would spend three hours a day with the languages group, helping them learn English. After Stephen had expressed interest in learning magic from the guild, but was unable to afford the tuition, they had come to the agreement that he would work for 2 hours in the morning and 2 hours in the evening on chores around the guild, to pay for his instruction. It was decided that he would only get one meal a day, lunch, since he wasn’t paying tuition. Because he couldn’t understand the instruction, one of the apprentices in the language group agreed to come to the beginning of instruction and cast ‘comprehend languages’ on Stephen, in exchange for 1 hour of personal English tutoring in the evening. A new group of students was beginning in five days, and he was set to join them.

The concept of his thesis remained in Stephen’s mind, but showed no change or hint of the energization he’d previously experienced with it.

***

Chopping vegetables in the kitchen, Stephen realized he wasn’t supposed to snack when he ate a chunk of something that seemed like a cross between a carrot and a turnip. The cook smacked his arm with a wooden spoon, and crossly called him something in a foreign language.

Earlier, when he was cleaning some of the hallways, a group of other neophytes, well-dressed, very young, and waiting for the instruction to begin, had pretended to accidentally knock over his bucket of water, which had gotten him in trouble with his cleaning boss.

All things considered, not the best first day.

At lunch, Stephen got a somewhat small portion of food and, since it was going to be his only meal of the day, gestured to the server to give him more and held out his plate. The server looked at the cook who had smacked Stephen’s hand earlier, asked her something, which elicited an angry reply. The server shook her head at him. After eating alone, Stephen was still feeling hungry and, knowing this was going to be his last meal for 24 hours, started scavenging some of the leftover food from other students’ plates.

The well-dressed neophytes noticed what the graduate student was doing and stood nearby watching him, making loud comments to one another. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, Stephen beat a retreat.

Later in the day, Stephen was relaxing in one of the student common rooms, trying to make sense of a text that was there, when the group of rich kids from earlier came in and circled him. It felt so bizarre to be bullied by kids in their early teens. Back on Earth, he might have kicked one of their asses and sorted things out that way. After trying to ignore their jeering for a couple of minutes, he pushed past them and headed towards his room. While he was leaving, he earned a sympathetic look from a younger, blonde neophyte who had also been reading in the common room.

At the English tutoring group, he showed up with a few language learning exercises and some fun things that he thought might engage them. There were about a dozen masters, journeymen, and apprentice wizards in attendance. One of the language masters cast comprehend language.

“When I hold up an item, say the name simply and clearly. For example, say phoenixfruit, not orange phoenixfruit,” said the master and then held up a quill.

“I actually had a few ideas for some exercises…” Stephen began.

“You are here as our subject, and we expect you to follow instructions,” said the master sternly. He held up the quill again.

“Could we at least introduce ourselves first?” the graduate student asked.

With a sigh, the master said, “I will hold up an object, and you shall name it, simply and clearly without embellishments. For example, if I held up a phoenixfruit…”

“I should say phoenixfruit, not orange phoenixfruit,” said Stephen dully. “I understand.”

The master held up a quill. Stephen said, “Quill.” Those gathered in attendance took note.

The master held out his hand. Stephen said, “Hand.” The attending group made another note. The master gave him a cross look. “Not hand, palm.” He held up his hand again. “Palm,” said Stephen. The attending group corrected their notes.

The master held up an orange piece of fruit. Stephen said, “Phoenixfruit, I guess?” The group looked at him in confusion.

“Name it simply and without embellishment,” ordered the master. “If you don’t have the mental capacity to engage with the process, we can’t use you as a subject.” The assembled group looked at Stephen crossly.

Stephen nodded, and the master held up the orange fruit. “Phoenixfruit,” said the man from Earth.

After an hour of work, the Master looked at Stephen strangely after he named a hat, then re-cast ‘comprehend languages’ on himself.

That night, in the common room, the small blonde man who had given him a sympathetic look came and sat down near him. Stephen eyed him suspiciously. The man handed a dessert bun to the graduate student, which was quickly devoured.

The man began talking quickly, then stopped abruptly when Stephen shrugged at him. Holding up the white robe he was wearing, the young man said a strange word. He then gestured at Stephen.

“That’s a robe,” said the grad student.

“Thasaroob,” said the blonde man carefully. Stephen chuckled and shook his head. “Robe,” he said simply and clearly. “Roob,” repeated the man. “Robe,” said Stephen. The man echoed it back more or less correctly, and Stephen nodded. The small man repeated the word he’d said earlier, holding up the robe. Stephen tried his best to repeat it, earning a good-natured chuckle from the young man. After three more attempted, the man finally accepted Stephen’s pronunciation.

“Rurth,” said the man, gesturing to himself. Stephen was able to repeat it back correctly after two attempts.

Pointing at his own chest, the graduate student said, “Stephen.”

***

On the second day, the rich kid group was hanging out near the tray return area during lunch. As Stephen brought back his tray, he noticed that they had all stopped what they were doing and focused their full attention on him. Each of them held a wooden switch.

“I suppose I’m going to get smacked if I try to take some leftover food?” asked Stephen. The leader glowered at him. Turning and walking away from them, Stephen muttered, “I’m not hungry enough to take a beating for it yet.” Suddenly, pain flared across his back and he stumbled forward. Looking backwards, the leader had caned him and stood in front of him shouting.

Making placating noises and holding up his hands, Stephen departed.

Rurth joined him after he’d left the neophyte dining room. “Farvot,” he said, gesturing back to the dining area.

“Farvot,” repeated Stephen, making his way down the hall.

***

On the first day of instruction, one of the apprentices he recognized from English tutoring was waiting for him in the training hall. The apprentice cast ‘comprehend languages’, which Stephen was starting to recognize the words and gestures for, and fed Stephen the chicken’s tongue. Stephen then understood him when the apprentice said, “The spell should last for about an hour. As you learn the language the spell is helping you comprehend, it will last longer.”

“I’m Stephen Crawford, nice to meet you,” the man from Earth said and stuck out his hand. The apprentice snorted and started to turn away.

“Instruction lasts for two hours, so if the spell will only last for one, I need you to return to re-cast it halfway through the class,” Stephen said.

“Well, that’s your problem. I agreed to trade you one casting of ‘comprehend languages’ for one hour of English instruction. See you tonight in the tutoring room after dinner,” said the apprentice.

“Speaking of that,” said Stephen. “I’m only getting one meal a day, do you think you could bring me some leftover food when we meet?”

“No, that’s not my job,” said the apprentice coldly and walked away.

Rurth walked over to Stephen and said, “Was that ‘comprehend languages’ he cast on you?”

“Yes,” said Stephen. “I’m trading it for one hour of English instruction after dinner. You’re welcome to come join us if you’d like, in the language tutoring room.”

“That’d be super,” said Rurth. “I haven’t settled on a specialty yet, of course, but I’ve been interested in…”

“If the hens will stop clucking,” the master announced. “We can begin our instruction. I am Master Odvar and I drew the short straw and will be giving the neophytes their preliminary instructions this cycle.”

“You will all be spending the next few months learning to cast a simple light spell. This burns without heat and lasts for fifteen minutes in absolute darkness and longer in partial darkness. The spell, like all spells, has a verbal, gesture, and material aspect to it. Each of you will receive a glowbug carcass. This is the material aspect. It won’t be consumed until you’re capable of casting the spell, so don’t lose it. This is the easiest part of your education.”

Looking around the room, he gestured at Stephen. ‘You. The big gangly creature. Distribute these glowbugs, one to each neophyte.” The master held out a sack, which Stephen got up and took. “Master Odvar,” said the graduate student. “I don’t speak your language. I’ve had a ‘comprehend languages’ spell cast on me, but it will only last for the first hour of class. Is there any way for me to get the spell renewed after that?” The class gasped as the master stared at Stephen in confusion. Finally processing what had been said, the Master turned red-faced and replied, “Keep up with the curriculum or get out of the way, idiot. I’m not here to spoon-feed you. Now, pass out those glowbugs if that isn’t too complicated for your feeble mind.” Stephen started passing out the insects to the amused class. His bullies smirked at him when he handed them their bugs.

“Once you can successfully and consistently cast this light spell, you’ll be removed from this training group and made an apprentice and move on to more advanced training. This will allow me to devote more attention to the remaining dullards. Past the six-month mark we’ll start losing faith in ever getting a spell out of the leftovers and, unless you can demonstrate some progress, you’ll be asked to leave.” The master eyed Stephen as he said this.

“Now, observe my gestures and pay attention to what I say as I cast…”

***

Two nights later, Stephen was in his room doing a late night language exchange with Rurth after completing his evening chores. His supervisors in the kitchen and on the cleaning staff remained annoyed with him. The gruff apprentice that cast ‘comprehend languages’ on him every day, who Stephen finally found out was named Sadger, had run Rurth off when the boy showed up for the after dinner language training.

Stephen munched on the chicken wings that Rurth had smuggled out of the dining hall, and the two men worked on colors.

In the brief moments before instruction started after ‘comprehend languages’ had been cast, they exchanged more complex information. Stephen had learned that the empire was called Mecond, which was different from the gaming material he’d played with in high school. The language he’d been hearing most people speak was Mecondian, which was the first emperor’s regional dialect. It had been the language of his court initially, but over the centuries had become the language of trade and linga franca in large population centers.

Languages had never been Stephen’s strong subject. He’d always been far more fond of numbers. However, survival in Mecond seemed to rely on learning the local language and how to cast a magical spell as soon as possible.

***

After five months, about a quarter of the neophytes had been successful in casting magical light and moved on to being apprentices. Rurth was one of them, and he had been trying to help Stephen with his casting during their late night language exchanges. The graduate student had learned enough of the Mecond language that the comprehend language spell now lasted for the entire instruction period, which had helped Stephen get more out of the classes. The instructor remained belligerent to the man from Earth.

His work cleaning and in the kitchen remained a grind. The supervisors took every opportunity to put him in his place and seemed to take delight in having authority over a student. In spite of his improving language skills, he hadn’t been able to win any of his co-workers over.

Stephen had needed to learn how to get where he needed to go stealthily, as Farvot and his fellow aristocrat neophytes enjoyed ambushing the older Stephen and roughing him up whenever they got the chance. No one in the wizard’s guild seemed bothered by the array of bruises and injuries that Stephen sported, with new ones appearing before the old ones could finish healing. Stephen had discovered that accepting his licks and trying to protect the more vulnerable parts of his body were the best ways to be left alone, when it wasn’t possible to beat a hasty retreat.

The English tutoring group had been making good progress, and the master mentioned at one point that he figured they’d be done within the year. Stephen wasn’t sure what that would mean for his continued studies at the guild, if he didn’t find another way to be useful.

The language master held up a coin. “Coin,” said Stephen dutifully.

Holding up a second coin, Stephen said “Two coins”.

“Just the description,” instructed the master sourly.

“Two,” said Stephen.

Holding up a third coin, the master said, “Just remain silent once you’re unable to count any higher.”

“I can count as high as you’d like, master,” offered the graduate student.

“You won’t win me over with empty boasts, cretin,” said the annoyed master.

“Ok, but there isn’t an upper limit to how high I can count,” insisted Stephen.

“I don’t have time for your lies,” said the master. “You have a rough understanding of a handful of items, like any farmer in the market, but you certainly can’t count without limit. Heh. I’m well versed in numerancy and 127 is the highest I can count.”

“128 comes after 127,” said Stephen. “And 126 comes before it.”

“You’ve already made a mistake!” crowed the master. “125 comes before 127. Now stop your deceitful prattling and follow my instructions.”

“1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7…” began Stephen, counting up. The assembled wizards looked at one another in confusion, then began whispering as they realized what he was doing.

“So you’ve memorized a sequence, I’m not impressed,” said the language master. “There’s no way you’re able to actually count without seeing the number of objects in front of you.”

“…8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13…” continued the graduate student. The whispering continued and some of the group were writing down the number as he counted them off. The master folded his arms and watched Stephen with a smug expression, waiting for him to stumble.

“”…67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72,…” continued the graduate student. A couple of members of the group had run off to tell others what was happening, and other wizards were crowding into the room, whispering to one another.

“…123, 124, 125…” Stephen made eye contact with the language master and stressed, “126,” then continued, “…127, 128, 129….” The language master turned beat red and hurried out of the room.

“…283, 284,285…,” Stephen continued, beginning to feel his mouth drying out.

One of the masters in the back of the room cleared his throat, interrupting the count. “Well, that all is quite impressive. Perhaps we could discuss this privately in my office in the numerancy wing.”