Firebrand

The Monster Within

Hitherto, second bell on Peldays had been empty on Martel's schedule. Thanks to his new arrangement, those free hours were now devoted to the apothecary. When he arrived, he saw no trace of Mistress Rana; instead, her apprentice Nora waited for him.

"Hullo," he said cautiously.

"Hey there. Today it's just you and me, so I get to order you around." Her mirthful expression took the sting from her words.

"Alright. Is Mistress Rana teaching a class?"

"Nah, she is in the laboratory. Got some potion brewing that needs constant attention."

"The what place?"

Nora grinned. "The laboratory. Where the actual alchemy happens. This place is just to prepare ingredients, and on occasion, supply the infirmary with basic remedies." She pointed at a door in the back of the apothecary. "Stairs there lead to the upper floor where Mistress Rana does her work. Big, nice room with tall windows allowing lots of fresh air. But don't expect Mistress Rana to show you any time soon. It'll take you a long time to earn her trust."

"That's fine. So I'll be helping you today?"

"Yes. Mistress Rana mentioned that you are learning water magic?"

"Yeah, to be a weathermage."

"Great. Well, anyone with a basic grasp of elemental magic can do this. So anyone in this school, except for the mageknights." She rolled her eyes. "Their elemental skills always stink, and they get away with it because nobody would dream of preventing them from graduating."

"I had no idea."

"Yeah. So anyway, we have a fresh batch of herbs to prepare." Nora pointed at the worktable where she had already begun dissecting the plants. "And an important part is to dry them and avoid rot. Time to put those water skills to use, blue eyes. Pull all the moisture you can out of them, and I'll inspect your work afterwards. Understood?"

"Clear as a cloudless day." Stretching out his hand to hover over the herbs, Martel began drawing all the water out.

~

While it seemed a slow route to knowledge, doing chores in the apothecary with the promise of one day being allowed into the laboratory, Martel did not mind. Learning and practising how to treat the ingredients was necessary, and for once, he had put his magical abilities to practical use that did not involve physical violence. No mageknights or berserkers to fight in the apothecary. And if doing these simple tasks also helped him train his elemental skills, all the better. As monotonous as the last two hours had been, it was still miles better than many of the exercises that Master Alastair made him do.

He kept that last thought to himself as he entered the Hall of Elements, inclining his head in greeting to his teacher.

"Martel, good to have you back. How was your journey to the Stone of Archen?"

"Eventful, to say the least. Do you know about the moon chamber and what lurks beyond?"

"I have heard the stories. They have given me no desire to investigate further."

Master Alastair was smarter than his students, evidently. "I still have trouble sleeping."

"What? Did you enter the maze?"

"No, we just opened the door. We didn't see anything, really, but we heard it and felt it." Martel shivered lightly at the thought.

"Master Fenrick opened the door and waited while this menace approached?" His teacher stared at him in disbelief.

"No, he showed us how the door opens and closes. He told us to stay away, but we didn't listen. So we went back to the door. It was a mistake, we know that now." Martel suddenly regretted telling any of this.

"Fenrick," Alastair grumbled. "He knew how you would react. He baited you just to teach you some kind of lesson, I bet."

"We certainly learnt something." Martel hesitated, almost a little afraid to ask. "Master, what is behind the door? It seemed more like a beast than a man or a spirit, but what animal could survive down there?"

"Few things," Alastair mumbled, "unless it is something undead."

Just hearing the word made Martel feel chilly.

"Enough of that. What about your exercises? Did you find time to do them?"

"I did. I can control the earth to some extent, but it doesn't obey me entirely. I can't quite imagine it in my mind, so it always feels a bit wonky."

"Show me, and we'll see if we can improve on it."

~

When supper came around, Martel filled his bowl with stew and took as many pieces of bread as he could get away with. Eating only the first dish, he stuffed the bread into his robe and left.

The streets still lay uneasy with bands of people that looked like trouble, but by keeping an ear out for noise and sticking to smaller streets, Martel managed to avoid them.

He finally stopped in front of a familiar alleyway. "It's me," he called out, unpacking the bread from the dining hall.

Scrambling noises came from different piles of trash as the homeless children emerged. Martel recognised the little Mouse and the boy acting as their chief, while Badger seemed absent. He extended his hands, offering the bread, which they eagerly snapped.

"Sorry, I know it isn't much."

"Any food is better than no food." The little chief shrugged and took a bite of his bread.

In the fading sunlight, especially in the alley between tall buildings, Martel did not notice it at first. But as he looked at the children, something roused his suspicion. Extending his hand, he summoned his magelight.

Some of the children became startled and shied away. Others stared with wide eyes at the magical flame. The chief scowled. "What's that for?"

Martel dismissed the magelight. "Sorry, it was just so dark here." He had seen what he needed to see, but he was not sure how to broach the subject. He sensed that the wrong word would send these skittish children away beyond his reach forever.

"We like the dark. It lets us hide."

Not only that, Martel thought. Besides the filth and malnutrition, it also hid the fresh bruises on several of the children, including the little chief. Someone was hurting them, and Martel's first instinct was to fight. But he did not know who or what, and he was learning not to rush into things. He needed advice. "I'll be back when I can with more food," he promised. Around him, the children savoured the last few bites of their bread.