Chapter 18: Something New in the Air
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Chapter 18: Something New in the Air
Something New in the Air
The thought of combat lessons still made Martel uneasy, though for a different reason than usual. He no longer felt worried about getting a beating during sparring, or that Reynard might humiliate him somehow. His leather armour helped with the former concern, and as for the latter, his teacher seemed content with ignoring him.
But it would be the first lesson he spent with Cheval. Two hours in the same arena where Martel had humiliated him. As the destruction of his star chart showed, the mageknight held a grudge.
The morning lesson, with the other novices, passed easily enough. Martel practised his shield to himself, and Reynard did not spare him a glance.
As afternoon came, Martel arrived at his second lesson with a hint of trepidation. He wore his leather armour under his robe, naturally, which helped a little. Yet he made sure, as soon as he entered the gymnasium, to spot Cheval and keep his distance.
A strange tension could be felt in the air, even so. The other mageknights, few as they were, talked among themselves while casting glances between Martel and Cheval. For once, the novice looked forward to Reynard arriving, so that the acolytes would have reason to begin training instead.
In full view, Maximilian crossed the arena floor to approach the brown-robed boy. "Hullo, Martel."
"Hey. Maximilian."
"Are you busy tomorrow?"
"No, except our astronomy class, of course."
"There is a fight in town. A mageknight fights a Tyrian berserker. Want to go?"
"Oh, sure." While perplexed at the invitation, Martel was not going to scratch a gift plough. "That sounds fun."
"Should be. It is in the forenoon. We will go after breakfast bell. Ah, here comes the old man. Time to swing hammers," Maximilian said as Reynard appeared, returning to the other acolytes.
While their teacher set up the mageknights to practise their weapons against each other, Martel idled to the side, waiting to see if he merited Reynard's attention or not.
"You, weather boy, come," said the Master of War.
That answered Martel's question, and he approached his teacher.
"You are done with staff training, since the other students need to practise with actual weapons, and I will not waste their time sparring with you."
Martel was sorely tempted to bring up the events of last night, but he contained himself.
"So we will move on. Part of empowerment magic, as the name suggests, is learning to empower your own body. Lending magical strength to your limbs." Reynard bent down to pick up a stone. He flung it out of the arena with more speed and force than humanly possible.
Watching it disappear against the horizon, Martel hoped nobody would be unlucky enough to stand where it would finally hit the ground.
"This is a big part of being a warrior. You will obviously never need this," Reynard claimed, "but you will be taught nonetheless."
Teaching in the loosest sense of the word, Martel surmised.
"What a bastard."
"We each have a staff, and he attacks me. Just whales on me, and I defend."
"And?"
"Well, it's been raining for a while at this point. There's lots of water on the ground, sinking into the dirt." They turned a corner and saw the masts of ships in the distance. "So while he's using magic, what little he has, to hit me harder, I'm using mine to make the ground softer. Muddier."
Shadi grinned. "Oh, you clever hound."
"He takes another step forward and falls straight on his back," Martel laughed. The memory appeared vividly in his mind; through the darkness and heavy rain, Cheval lying stuck in the mud, helpless as an infant.
"Amazing!" She looked at him with admiration. "I knew you were a much better mage than that pompous oaf!"
"I didn't," Martel admitted, more candid than he had intended. "I was as surprised as any that it worked."
"Well, I wouldn't have been." The smell of salt and sea reached them, along with the sounds of busy docks. Even in winter, goods required transportation; especially to the front, where supplies were scarce and sorely needed. "Is it true there's wizards aboard the ships?" Shadi asked.
"Some of them, yeah." By luck, Martel had heard some of the acolytes talk about this. "Some airmages or watermages train to become seamages."
"You magic folk sure are imaginative with your names."
"Shut up," Martel laughed. "But yeah, the big ships will all have a seamage aboard, making sure the waters are calm and the wind behind the sails."
"You ever thought about that?"
"No. Until recently, I didn't even think about being a mage." Martel watched as a ship gracefully entered the harbour. Ropes were tossed to let it moor, securing it to the pier.
"How come?"
"My father never wanted me to be one. He told me to hide my gift. So I did."
"Strange. You'd have thought he'd be happy to have a mage in the family."
"Yeah." The ship looked strange compared to the others in harbour, as did the sailors crawling its rigging. They were Sindhian, Martel realised, from across the southern sea.
"So you'll be going home to them when you're done?"
"That's the plan." As he spoke the words, Martel thought about Engby. Familiar, small, comfortable. And then he thought about the ship, the journey it had completed, and the port on the other side. Sindhu, the land of a thousand princes, where children played with gems and snakes alike.
"It's getting dark. I'll head home, as should you. Thanks for coming to see me."
"Hey, I promised." He smiled at her. She began walking away, waving to him before increasing her pace. He watched her disappear up the street; once out of view, he turned north to walk home.
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Chapter 18: Something New in the Air
Something New in the Air
The thought of combat lessons still made Martel uneasy, though for a different reason than usual. He no longer felt worried about getting a beating during sparring, or that Reynard might humiliate him somehow. His leather armour helped with the former concern, and as for the latter, his teacher seemed content with ignoring him.
But it would be the first lesson he spent with Cheval. Two hours in the same arena where Martel had humiliated him. As the destruction of his star chart showed, the mageknight held a grudge.
The morning lesson, with the other novices, passed easily enough. Martel practised his shield to himself, and Reynard did not spare him a glance.
As afternoon came, Martel arrived at his second lesson with a hint of trepidation. He wore his leather armour under his robe, naturally, which helped a little. Yet he made sure, as soon as he entered the gymnasium, to spot Cheval and keep his distance.
A strange tension could be felt in the air, even so. The other mageknights, few as they were, talked among themselves while casting glances between Martel and Cheval. For once, the novice looked forward to Reynard arriving, so that the acolytes would have reason to begin training instead.
In full view, Maximilian crossed the arena floor to approach the brown-robed boy. "Hullo, Martel."
"Hey. Maximilian."
"Are you busy tomorrow?"
"No, except our astronomy class, of course."
"There is a fight in town. A mageknight fights a Tyrian berserker. Want to go?"
"Oh, sure." While perplexed at the invitation, Martel was not going to scratch a gift plough. "That sounds fun."
"Should be. It is in the forenoon. We will go after breakfast bell. Ah, here comes the old man. Time to swing hammers," Maximilian said as Reynard appeared, returning to the other acolytes.
While their teacher set up the mageknights to practise their weapons against each other, Martel idled to the side, waiting to see if he merited Reynard's attention or not.
"You, weather boy, come," said the Master of War.
That answered Martel's question, and he approached his teacher.
"You are done with staff training, since the other students need to practise with actual weapons, and I will not waste their time sparring with you."
Martel was sorely tempted to bring up the events of last night, but he contained himself.
"So we will move on. Part of empowerment magic, as the name suggests, is learning to empower your own body. Lending magical strength to your limbs." Reynard bent down to pick up a stone. He flung it out of the arena with more speed and force than humanly possible.
Watching it disappear against the horizon, Martel hoped nobody would be unlucky enough to stand where it would finally hit the ground.
"This is a big part of being a warrior. You will obviously never need this," Reynard claimed, "but you will be taught nonetheless."
Teaching in the loosest sense of the word, Martel surmised.
"What a bastard."
"We each have a staff, and he attacks me. Just whales on me, and I defend."
"And?"
"Well, it's been raining for a while at this point. There's lots of water on the ground, sinking into the dirt." They turned a corner and saw the masts of ships in the distance. "So while he's using magic, what little he has, to hit me harder, I'm using mine to make the ground softer. Muddier."
Shadi grinned. "Oh, you clever hound."
"He takes another step forward and falls straight on his back," Martel laughed. The memory appeared vividly in his mind; through the darkness and heavy rain, Cheval lying stuck in the mud, helpless as an infant.
"Amazing!" She looked at him with admiration. "I knew you were a much better mage than that pompous oaf!"
"I didn't," Martel admitted, more candid than he had intended. "I was as surprised as any that it worked."
"Well, I wouldn't have been." The smell of salt and sea reached them, along with the sounds of busy docks. Even in winter, goods required transportation; especially to the front, where supplies were scarce and sorely needed. "Is it true there's wizards aboard the ships?" Shadi asked.
"Some of them, yeah." By luck, Martel had heard some of the acolytes talk about this. "Some airmages or watermages train to become seamages."
"You magic folk sure are imaginative with your names."
"Shut up," Martel laughed. "But yeah, the big ships will all have a seamage aboard, making sure the waters are calm and the wind behind the sails."
"You ever thought about that?"
"No. Until recently, I didn't even think about being a mage." Martel watched as a ship gracefully entered the harbour. Ropes were tossed to let it moor, securing it to the pier.
"How come?"
"My father never wanted me to be one. He told me to hide my gift. So I did."
"Strange. You'd have thought he'd be happy to have a mage in the family."
"Yeah." The ship looked strange compared to the others in harbour, as did the sailors crawling its rigging. They were Sindhian, Martel realised, from across the southern sea.
"So you'll be going home to them when you're done?"
"That's the plan." As he spoke the words, Martel thought about Engby. Familiar, small, comfortable. And then he thought about the ship, the journey it had completed, and the port on the other side. Sindhu, the land of a thousand princes, where children played with gems and snakes alike.
"It's getting dark. I'll head home, as should you. Thanks for coming to see me."
"Hey, I promised." He smiled at her. She began walking away, waving to him before increasing her pace. He watched her disappear up the street; once out of view, he turned north to walk home.
Chapter 18: Something New in the AirSomething New in the AirThe thought of combat lessons still made Martel uneasy, though for a different reason than usual. He no longer felt worried about getting a beating during sparring, or that Reynard might humiliate him somehow. His leather armour helped with the former concern, and as for the latter, his teacher seemed content with ignoring him.But it would be the first lesson he spent with Cheval. Two hours in the same arena where Martel had humiliated him. As the destruction of his star chart showed, the mageknight held a grudge.The morning lesson, with the other novices, passed easily enough. Martel practised his shield to himself, and Reynard did not spare him a glance.As afternoon came, Martel arrived at his second lesson with a hint of trepidation. He wore his leather armour under his robe, naturally, which helped a little. Yet he made sure, as soon as he entered the gymnasium, to spot Cheval and keep his distance.A strange tension could be felt in the air, even so. The other mageknights, few as they were, talked among themselves while casting glances between Martel and Cheval. For once, the novice looked forward to Reynard arriving, so that the acolytes would have reason to begin training instead.In full view, Maximilian crossed the arena floor to approach the brown-robed boy. "Hullo, Martel.""Hey. Maximilian.""Are you busy tomorrow?""No, except our astronomy class, of course.""There is a fight in town. A mageknight fights a Tyrian berserker. Want to go?""Oh, sure." While perplexed at the invitation, Martel was not going to scratch a gift plough. "That sounds fun.""Should be. It is in the forenoon. We will go after breakfast bell. Ah, here comes the old man. Time to swing hammers," Maximilian said as Reynard appeared, returning to the other acolytes.While their teacher set up the mageknights to practise their weapons against each other, Martel idled to the side, waiting to see if he merited Reynard's attention or not."You, weather boy, come," said the Master of War.That answered Martel's question, and he approached his teacher."You are done with staff training, since the other students need to practise with actual weapons, and I will not waste their time sparring with you."Martel was sorely tempted to bring up the events of last night, but he contained himself."So we will move on. Part of empowerment magic, as the name suggests, is learning to empower your own body. Lending magical strength to your limbs." Reynard bent down to pick up a stone. He flung it out of the arena with more speed and force than humanly possible.Watching it disappear against the horizon, Martel hoped nobody would be unlucky enough to stand where it would finally hit the ground."This is a big part of being a warrior. You will obviously never need this," Reynard claimed, "but you will be taught nonetheless."Teaching in the loosest sense of the word, Martel surmised."What a bastard.""We each have a staff, and he attacks me. Just whales on me, and I defend.""And?""Well, it's been raining for a while at this point. There's lots of water on the ground, sinking into the dirt." They turned a corner and saw the masts of ships in the distance. "So while he's using magic, what little he has, to hit me harder, I'm using mine to make the ground softer. Muddier."Shadi grinned. "Oh, you clever hound.""He takes another step forward and falls straight on his back," Martel laughed. The memory appeared vividly in his mind; through the darkness and heavy rain, Cheval lying stuck in the mud, helpless as an infant."Amazing!" She looked at him with admiration. "I knew you were a much better mage than that pompous oaf!""I didn't," Martel admitted, more candid than he had intended. "I was as surprised as any that it worked.""Well, I wouldn't have been." The smell of salt and sea reached them, along with the sounds of busy docks. Even in winter, goods required transportation; especially to the front, where supplies were scarce and sorely needed. "Is it true there's wizards aboard the ships?" Shadi asked."Some of them, yeah." By luck, Martel had heard some of the acolytes talk about this. "Some airmages or watermages train to become seamages.""You magic folk sure are imaginative with your names.""Shut up," Martel laughed. "But yeah, the big ships will all have a seamage aboard, making sure the waters are calm and the wind behind the sails.""You ever thought about that?""No. Until recently, I didn't even think about being a mage." Martel watched as a ship gracefully entered the harbour. Ropes were tossed to let it moor, securing it to the pier."How come?""My father never wanted me to be one. He told me to hide my gift. So I did.""Strange. You'd have thought he'd be happy to have a mage in the family.""Yeah." The ship looked strange compared to the others in harbour, as did the sailors crawling its rigging. They were Sindhian, Martel realised, from across the southern sea."So you'll be going home to them when you're done?""That's the plan." As he spoke the words, Martel thought about Engby. Familiar, small, comfortable. And then he thought about the ship, the journey it had completed, and the port on the other side. Sindhu, the land of a thousand princes, where children played with gems and snakes alike."It's getting dark. I'll head home, as should you. Thanks for coming to see me.""Hey, I promised." He smiled at her. She began walking away, waving to him before increasing her pace. He watched her disappear up the street; once out of view, he turned north to walk home.
