The Rossem Project

The Assembly - Part 1

     The announcement was scheduled for two weeks later.

     It was another second downday, a day in which most of the wizards wouldn't have been doing much anyway, and it was held in the Chamber of Discourse, the chamber in which, twenty three years earlier, Tragius Demonbinder had argued for a change in the rules regarding rak transformation. This chamber was normally occupied only once or twice a year, during annual and special assemblies. Annual assemblies were held, as the name suggests, once every ten months, when all the qualified wizards in the valley got together to discuss various matters that had arisen during the previous year, while special assemblies were much rarer, generally being called whenever a situation occurred that was so urgent that it couldn't wait until the next annual assembly. Theoretically, any graduated wizard could call a special assembly, even one who'd only graduated the day before. They could call an assembly to which all the senior wizards would be compelled to come, plus as many of the junior wizards who felt that way inclined, but if the senior wizards thought that their time had been wasted then the unfortunate caller could look forward to a harsh reception as soon as the assembly was over, and a black mark on his record that would follow him to the grave.

     The assembly taking place today was more than just a special assembly, though. It was a very special assembly, a totally unprecedented assembly. It was an assembly to which the entire population of the valley had been invited, apprentices and mundanes as well as qualified wizards; the first time in the University's history that such people had been allowed into this hallowed chamber. It made things a bit awkward as the Chamber was technically among the research buildings, but the fact that it was located a little off to the side from the rest meant that a wall of force could be erected between it and the other buildings, preventing any of the mundanes, or any of the magical experiments, from coming to harm.

     The Master of Ceremonies fretted and scowled at the lack of precedent and the consequent lack of proper rituals to accompany the occasion. In the end he tried to persuade everyone to treat it as a Director's inauguration minus a new Director, since only this seemed to contain anything like the necessary weight and gravity for an occasion of this magnitude. It went well at first, but since none of the mundanes or apprentices had any idea how this ceremony was performed the attempt rapidly degenerated into chaos and the Director called the whole thing off in order to prevent it from turning into a farce.

     Fortunately, ceremony turned out to be unnecessary as the non wizards were already terrified by the place; by the atmosphere and sense of history that seemed to permeate every brick and floor tile, left behind by the awesome events that had taken place here down through the centuries. Here, decisions had been made that had toppled Kings from their thrones and redrawn the boundaries of nations. Here, matters beyond the comprehension of the average layman had been discussed with casual familiarity. Here, in this very chamber! What ceremony had ever been invented that could possibly encapsulate all of that?

     The non wizards filed in a quiet and orderly manner to their assigned places, therefore, whispering to each other and casting nervous glances at the officials around them. The proctors in their fearsome uniforms and the senior wizards in full ceremonial garb; clothing that left no doubt as to the terrible and awesome forces that these mighty beings were capable of wielding. The wizards themselves sat on the two innermost rows of benches, the benches closest to the floor, while the non wizards sat further up, on the benches behind them. There was plenty of room, as the chamber had been built back in the glory days of the University when it had boasted five times as many qualified wizards as it did today.

     The proctors scowled at the mundanes, most of whom had made an effort to smarten themselves up and make themselves presentable but who still looked shabby compared to the wizards, whose clothing had been brightened and enhanced by magic spells. The mundanes slunk shamefully to their seats, therefore, feeling like naughty schoolboys eavesdropping on the conversations of their elders and betters, and sat down quickly, trying to make themselves as small and inconspicuous as possible. Most of the wizards seemed to enjoy this and puffed out their chests with pride and self importance, but some of the older and wiser mages shook their heads sadly, knowing how quickly awe and fear could turn to anger and hatred. It's wrong to make the mundanes feel inferior, they thought to themselves. We have to make them see us as people, essentially no different from them.