Firebrand

Standing Against the Wind

Martel entered in the Hall of Elements, ready to learn. After a full night's sleep, he felt a lot better and able to focus on his teacher's instructions.

As for Master Alstair, he glanced at the bandage and frowned. "Combat training getting rough? Master Reynard is not letting anyone use sharp weapons on you, I hope."

"Oh no, I just happened to get a cut. Mistress Rana dealt with it immediately." Martel figured it was best to insinuate that he got the nick working in the apothecary; this way, he did not actually lie to his favourite teacher, nor did he invite scrunity of his activities in the city.

"Very well." The Master of Elements cleared his throat. "Air is the most intangible of the elements. It is everywhere, surrounding us, which can make it feel as if it is nowhere. For when you reach out with your magic, what exactly is there to grasp?" He stared at Martel, letting the question sink in, before he continued. "For this reason, most mages struggle to learn control over air. Some, like mageknights and battlemages, never seem to develop any skill in it. And why airmages sometimes can come across as prideful." The teacher chuckled.

"If they don't learn control over air, how do they pass the novice's exam? How do they even become acolytes to learn being mageknights and battlemages?"

"Those are the two wizard professions used by the legions. If you show any skill to become either, or just the willingness, nothing else matters. In the eyes of the army, that is." A flash of annoyance passed over Alastair's face. "But to you, air is almost as important as water. And if you still consider becoming a seamage, an invaluable skill."

Martel had forgotten about that with everything that had happened in the last month or so. But it did not matter either at present; he needed to master the elemental skills in either case. And perhaps with more control he might also be able to use these elements to defend himself if needed, rather than rely on fire solely. "So how do I learn?"

"Stand right here." Alastair indicated a spot in the hall, where Martel moved to. "I'll bring the wind. Do your best to push back with your own magic."

Martel heard a faint whistle coming from a hole high up on the wall, big enough to put your hand through. He received no further warning before the wind hit him full blast, and he stumbled backwards. Barely able to open his eyes, he tried to do as instructed and push back. By the time Alastair ceased his spellcasting, Martel's eyes watered, and his hair stood in every direction.

"First attempts are always hard," his teacher reassured him. "Let's try that again."

~

One of the first to arrive for lunch, Martel grabbed his food and found himself a table. He had not progressed far into his meal before Eleanor sat down opposite him. She placed her plate rather forcefully on the table as she took her seat. "Martel, what is that around your neck?"

"A bandage," he mumbled.

"Why is your neck bandaged?" She asked pointedly.

"I got a scratch. Mistress Rana thought it needed dressing."

"And how did you get this scratch that required tending to?"

Martel was not sure whether her large hazel eyes or her stern expression was to blame, but he did not feel he could lie to her. "I got into a little fight."

"With six veterans, who abducted you. Tied you up and were going to do Stars know what to you. Yes, Maximilian told me when I chastised him for being sluggish during training."

Martel felt a jab of disappointment that Maximilian had admitted the truth when he had agreed not to do so; then again, he himself had folded quickly both when confronted by Mistress Rana and by Eleanor, though at least he had omitted most of the details. "Look, everything is fine. And I don't intend to do something like this again."

"How reassuring." She stabbed her food with her fork.

"I don't know why you are upset. I just went to help some children, which you also advised me to do."

"Oh, so I am to blame." Her stabbing intensified.

"No, nobody is to blame! Not you, not me," Martel replied irritated. "I don't get why you even care about this."

Eleanor's movement stopped, and she took a deep breath. "Some students are here because their families expect it. A mage is born to their house, and that child must bring honour to the family name. Most students are probably here because learning magic will get them employment with more pay than they could ever hope to see. And a few are here for the power." She raised her eyes to look at Martel. "You are the only one I have heard say he is here to help others, and I fear it will get you killed." She got up and walked away.

Martel stared at her plate, still full. The food she left behind would have sated a child on the street for a whole day. The waste bothered him, but not as much as her words did. She was so different from him, he sometimes found it hard to believe they were truly friends in any deeper sense of the word; yet for reasons he could not explain, the sense that Eleanor was upset with him hurt more than it should.

~

Martel spent the remaining day speculating over his conversation with Eleanor and recent events. He did not feel that he had done anything wrong, and nobody he cared about had been hurt, including himself. If not for him, Regnar would lie chopped up on a Sindhian alchemist's worktable. But he had also twice put Maximilian in grave danger.

And when they had visited the stone of Archen, it had only been because of Martel's involvement that the stone door had been opened, again exposing them all to danger. At the time, the thought of Cheval getting hurt had seemed like its own kind of justice, but his father was a powerful duke. If his son had been hurt, he might have gone looking for someone to blame, not to mention punish.

Taking a seat by his desk, Martel prepared his ink set and parchment. Amidst all this excitement, he could not forget about his other obligations.

Dear mum,

I'm really sorry I can't go home for the solstice celebrations. They were always my favourite time of the year. And you will have Juliet's brew to taste for the first time. I am envious. Tell William to stop giving you so much trouble, or I'll give him a pig's tail.

Lots have happened here as well. We went on a trip out of the city for a few fivedays. It was nice to get out. Morcaster is an incredible place, but so much is stone and hewn wood. I enjoyed seeing green and forest again for a while.

Speaking of green, I also found myself employment. Sort of, I am not being paid in silver yet, but I do learn lots. I work every day in the apothecary of the school, learning how to treat plants and other strange ingredients to make poultices, salves, and the like. If I do well, Mistress Rana will take me on as her apprentice, and I will learn to make all sorts of potions and powerful elixirs.

We also had a spring faire here in the city. Some travelling actors came, and they put on the most amazing show about Roland and his trials. I've never seen the story told so well. They also did another about some animals, but I didn't enjoy that one as much. The troupe had a mage with them, who used his magic on the stage to make it rain or howl or make the dragon breathe fire. I helped him the one time and had lots of fun with it.

Otherwise, I don't go into the city much. So if you heard about trouble on the streets here because of the war, don't worry about me. I mostly stay at the school anyway. I hope everyone is safe and doing well, just like I'm safe and doing well.

Martel

He set his quill aside, careful not to disturb the letter while the ink dried. He should probably do as he had written; avoid the city, at least until he felt more ready at using his magic to defend himself. He only remembered his lack of means as he prepared the envelope; he did not even own the four coppers it would cost to send this by Imperial post.