Justarius paced within the Tower of High Sorcery in Wayreth. Long ago, he had taken over as head of the Conclave from Par-Salian, the old Head of the White Robes, replaced by Dunbar Mastersmate. He had been informed only a day before about a magic student's disruptive behavior. "You said she threatened him, are you sure?" He asked Dunbar. The White Robe shook his head soberly. "Theobald came to me quick after she was expelled. I think he was fair frightened by her, and what she said." "What did she say, pray tell?" Justarius asked him sharply. "Somewhat about making him "pay" for the wrongs he did her. She said one day she'll be strong, and she'll come back to crush him." "She said that?" Justarius asked incredulously. "What did you say her name was?" "Her name," came a soft voice. "Is Rivin. Majere." Dalamar Nightson, the Head of the Black Robes, stressed the last word, making sure his fellows knew whom the girl was related to. Justarius and Dunbar turned to look at him. Dalamar smiled faintly. "I stopped in Solace on my way here." His face closed, showing no emotion. "I went to the Inn of the Last Home. It was very early, and I wasn't sure if they'd be open. But when I knocked, a young lady answered me. She told me her name was Rivin Majere, the eldest daughter of Tika and Caramon. There's ambition in her," he added as an after thought. "Near deadly ambition." Justarius nodded slowly. "Deadly, you say?" "She was afraid of me, at first. But then some wine was spilt, and I cast a clearing spell. She forgot who I was, and asked if I could teach the spell to her. She seemed not to think of me as Head of the Black Robes, but merely as a friend. It was.interesting. She's rather like her uncle, if you ask me." Dunbar looked away. Justarius stared into space, thinking, while Dalamar smiled. "I told her to visit me, if her faith ever wavers. You know of course that she wears the White." "And how do you expect her to get past that wretched grove?" Justarius asked. "I gave her a charm," he said distantly, a smile on his lips. "She was very pretty." Dunbar looked disgustedly at the dark elf. "By the gods, Dalamar, how old is the girl?" "I'm not sure. Probably fourteen, or so. Maybe fifteen." He glanced at the Head of the White. "You fool, have you know sense of my honor? I'm not about to take a child to my bed!" Dunbar looked dubiously at him, and it was obvious that there was hatred between them. Justarius stepped into their line of view, blocking out the other. "Calm yourselves, my friends. "We are not here to wage a war. We are here to discuss the dangerous behavior of a child. She's already been expelled. There's not much else we can do." He looked into the distance, thinking. "Unless." "Unless what?" Dunbar asked. "Unless we ban her from taking her Test." "It will be a long time before we would be able to tell her-" "Don't be so sure of that, Dunbar." Dalamar said softly. "She's much stronger than you think. If you are inclined to trust me, she has less then five years left before she is ready." Justarius looked at him incredulously. "Surely you don't think she would pass so young." "I do." "Then there is much to be done. There was also the matter of her brother, one Palin Majere. He is nigh ready to take his Test. Caramon will not permit it-" "I have an idea." Dalamar said, smiling to himself. "It will take care of Rivin as well." "Then speak, man. We are listening." "Good."