Chapter 207: Present Help
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Chapter 207: Present Help
Present Help
"Have you given any thought to what Quintus told you?" Master Alastair asked as his lesson with Martel was coming to an end.
Not really, given how Martel had spent his time since, not to mention being concerned about his brother, but that felt rude to say. "Yes, a lot. I was a little troubled to hear that as a weathermage or seamage, I might still end up in battles."This chapter was first shared on the Ñøv€lß1n platform.
"It is unfortunate regarding being a weathermage, since any other province besides Nordmark would probably be safe. Though you should not let fears of war discourage you from becoming a seamage if that is your wish."
"I shouldn't?"
Master Alastair shook his head. "I have trained hundreds of novices over the years. I dare say that I have a good grasp of the talents and skills each possess. While you would make a fine seamage, more than capable of those duties, only a few possess the gift to become a stormmage. Nearly as rare as being fire-touched," he said with a smile.
"So you don't think they'll stick me on a warship?" That was a relief, Martel supposed, even if it did not seem like it in the moment.
"I do not. No conjuring of storms for you, my boy, just a strong wind to fill the sails of a merchant vessel." Master Alastair winked. In the distance, the bell rang. "Enough for now. See you at sixth bell."
She quickly returned holding a velvet pouch in her hand. Opening the string, she emptied the contents into his hands, which he hurried to form into a cup. "That is all I have right now. How much do you need? I can go home tomorrow and asked my father for an advance on my stipend."
"Oh no, I don't want you to have more trouble. I'm sure I'll have enough." This was more generous than Martel had expected, and it felt almost shameful to take further advantage of her. "Thank you, truly."
"You are welcome. Let me know when your brother is in improvement. I shall mention him next time I am at prayers."
"I will let you know. Thanks." He turned to walk away, but stopped as Eleanor spoke again.
"I am sorry that I kept you from the sparring matches." She glanced away before her eyes found him again. "I just thought you did not need any further encouragement for fighting."
Martel looked at her with half a smile, containing no mirth. "I probably don't. Thank you, again." He left, trying to awkwardly fit a bunch of coins into his pockets without dropping any as he walked down the corridor.
***
Back in his own room, Martel collected all his riches and stacked them on his desk. Eleanor had lent him eleven eagles and four pennies, giving him a total of nineteen silver coins and four of the copper kind. With his personal finances growing complicated, he took a scrap of parchment and made two columns. On one side, he wrote the names of Eleanor, Maximilian, and Weasel. On the other, he wrote down the sums that he owed each of them. He was still ten silvers and six coppers short; too much that he could hope to earn from Master Jerome in the near future. But he was more than halfway there, and tomorrow was another day.
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Chapter 207: Present Help
Present Help
"Have you given any thought to what Quintus told you?" Master Alastair asked as his lesson with Martel was coming to an end.
Not really, given how Martel had spent his time since, not to mention being concerned about his brother, but that felt rude to say. "Yes, a lot. I was a little troubled to hear that as a weathermage or seamage, I might still end up in battles."This chapter was first shared on the Ñøv€lß1n platform.
"It is unfortunate regarding being a weathermage, since any other province besides Nordmark would probably be safe. Though you should not let fears of war discourage you from becoming a seamage if that is your wish."
"I shouldn't?"
Master Alastair shook his head. "I have trained hundreds of novices over the years. I dare say that I have a good grasp of the talents and skills each possess. While you would make a fine seamage, more than capable of those duties, only a few possess the gift to become a stormmage. Nearly as rare as being fire-touched," he said with a smile.
"So you don't think they'll stick me on a warship?" That was a relief, Martel supposed, even if it did not seem like it in the moment.
"I do not. No conjuring of storms for you, my boy, just a strong wind to fill the sails of a merchant vessel." Master Alastair winked. In the distance, the bell rang. "Enough for now. See you at sixth bell."
She quickly returned holding a velvet pouch in her hand. Opening the string, she emptied the contents into his hands, which he hurried to form into a cup. "That is all I have right now. How much do you need? I can go home tomorrow and asked my father for an advance on my stipend."
"Oh no, I don't want you to have more trouble. I'm sure I'll have enough." This was more generous than Martel had expected, and it felt almost shameful to take further advantage of her. "Thank you, truly."
"You are welcome. Let me know when your brother is in improvement. I shall mention him next time I am at prayers."
"I will let you know. Thanks." He turned to walk away, but stopped as Eleanor spoke again.
"I am sorry that I kept you from the sparring matches." She glanced away before her eyes found him again. "I just thought you did not need any further encouragement for fighting."
Martel looked at her with half a smile, containing no mirth. "I probably don't. Thank you, again." He left, trying to awkwardly fit a bunch of coins into his pockets without dropping any as he walked down the corridor.
***
Back in his own room, Martel collected all his riches and stacked them on his desk. Eleanor had lent him eleven eagles and four pennies, giving him a total of nineteen silver coins and four of the copper kind. With his personal finances growing complicated, he took a scrap of parchment and made two columns. On one side, he wrote the names of Eleanor, Maximilian, and Weasel. On the other, he wrote down the sums that he owed each of them. He was still ten silvers and six coppers short; too much that he could hope to earn from Master Jerome in the near future. But he was more than halfway there, and tomorrow was another day.
Chapter 207: Present HelpPresent Help"Have you given any thought to what Quintus told you?" Master Alastair asked as his lesson with Martel was coming to an end.Not really, given how Martel had spent his time since, not to mention being concerned about his brother, but that felt rude to say. "Yes, a lot. I was a little troubled to hear that as a weathermage or seamage, I might still end up in battles."This chapter was first shared on the Nvl1n platform."It is unfortunate regarding being a weathermage, since any other province besides Nordmark would probably be safe. Though you should not let fears of war discourage you from becoming a seamage if that is your wish.""I shouldn't?"Master Alastair shook his head. "I have trained hundreds of novices over the years. I dare say that I have a good grasp of the talents and skills each possess. While you would make a fine seamage, more than capable of those duties, only a few possess the gift to become a stormmage. Nearly as rare as being fire-touched," he said with a smile."So you don't think they'll stick me on a warship?" That was a relief, Martel supposed, even if it did not seem like it in the moment."I do not. No conjuring of storms for you, my boy, just a strong wind to fill the sails of a merchant vessel." Master Alastair winked. In the distance, the bell rang. "Enough for now. See you at sixth bell."She quickly returned holding a velvet pouch in her hand. Opening the string, she emptied the contents into his hands, which he hurried to form into a cup. "That is all I have right now. How much do you need? I can go home tomorrow and asked my father for an advance on my stipend.""Oh no, I don't want you to have more trouble. I'm sure I'll have enough." This was more generous than Martel had expected, and it felt almost shameful to take further advantage of her. "Thank you, truly.""You are welcome. Let me know when your brother is in improvement. I shall mention him next time I am at prayers.""I will let you know. Thanks." He turned to walk away, but stopped as Eleanor spoke again."I am sorry that I kept you from the sparring matches." She glanced away before her eyes found him again. "I just thought you did not need any further encouragement for fighting."Martel looked at her with half a smile, containing no mirth. "I probably don't. Thank you, again." He left, trying to awkwardly fit a bunch of coins into his pockets without dropping any as he walked down the corridor.***Back in his own room, Martel collected all his riches and stacked them on his desk. Eleanor had lent him eleven eagles and four pennies, giving him a total of nineteen silver coins and four of the copper kind. With his personal finances growing complicated, he took a scrap of parchment and made two columns. On one side, he wrote the names of Eleanor, Maximilian, and Weasel. On the other, he wrote down the sums that he owed each of them. He was still ten silvers and six coppers short; too much that he could hope to earn from Master Jerome in the near future. But he was more than halfway there, and tomorrow was another day.
