Chapter 261: A Sindhian Beginning
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Chapter 261: A Sindhian Beginning
A Sindhian Beginning
Pelday morning, Mistress Rana did as promised. When Martel arrived in the workshop, she simply gestured for him to follow her through the back. For the first time, he ascended the stairs to enter her laboratory.
In some ways, it looked like he might have expected from the apothecary downstairs, though the size still impressed him. The walls were filled with shelves containing ingredients of every possible kind. Powders and liquids stood next to all sorts of jars holding the oddest items. A lot of it seemed harvested from different animals – at least Martel hoped it came from animals – including different organs. One glass bottle held three feathers. To Martel's chagrin, any labels were written in what he guessed to be Sindhian.
Besides the impressive array of ingredients, the large chamber also held a fireplace and several worktables, complete with a number of tools. The last thing of note had to be a great book placed open on a small writing desk; a number of other volumes stood on a shelf above.
"Come here."This chapter's initial release occurred on the n0vell--Bjjn site.
Martel joined Mistress Rana by the worktables. He glanced over the items present. In many ways, both tools and reagents looked similar to those used on the floor below.
"What is the difference between alchemy and apothecary work?"
"The former involves magic?" Martel guessed.
"Simply put, yes. Any fool can grind powders and stir ingredients to make a salve. But with the gift of magic, so much more can be done," Mistress Rana explained. "Here in Aster, alchemy has usually been done by adding spellwork to the process. You wish to make a healing potion, you pour healing power into a liquid able to bind magic. A crude manner."
Martel listened intently.
"Sindhian alchemy is more refined. Spellwork is used to draw magic from the ingredients, thereby allowing them far more uses and effects." She picked up some leaves that Martel recognised as foxglove. "In the hands of an apothecary, these can make a tonic to strengthen the heart. To a Sindhian alchemist, along with other reagents, these simple leaves have the power to cure someone at death's door."
Martel's eyes widened. This was exactly the knowledge he wanted, the kind that seemed worth pursuing.
Without sparing him a second glance, Moira turned away. "Enough chatter. Harriet and William, you spar against each other. Edward, you're up against the alchemist here."
***
In between classes, Martel left the school for an errand. Thankfully, not as far as the copper lanes; he would have no trouble making it back for his second lesson in fire magic, this time without running or gasping for breath. He only ventured to the merchants' district, walking until he found a peddler of firewood. Entering the small courtyard in front of the trader's house, he saw great logs stacked to one side and workers piling some of them onto a cart. A clerk appeared, giving the young visitor an inquisitive glance.
"I am Master Martel of the Lyceum," he said. Wizards impressed people, he had learned.
The clerk inclined his head. "How can I be of service, master mage?"
"I wish to buy firewood, as you can imagine. Five silvers' worth."
"Very well, good master. Delivered to your school?"
"No." Martel gave as good a description as he could of the derelict house in the copper lanes and the route thereto, including its inhabitants. "Now, simply because they are children, do not expect you can get away with anything. If the firewood is not delivered, or the amount is light, I will know." He straightened his back, trying to look intimidating while hoping that a layman's imagination concerning magic would do the rest.
"Never, master mage. We pride ourselves on our good practices. Good firewood at good prices, my master always says."
"Very well." Martel handed over five eagles.
"It shall be delivered today, good master."
"See that it is."
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Chapter 261: A Sindhian Beginning
A Sindhian Beginning
Pelday morning, Mistress Rana did as promised. When Martel arrived in the workshop, she simply gestured for him to follow her through the back. For the first time, he ascended the stairs to enter her laboratory.
In some ways, it looked like he might have expected from the apothecary downstairs, though the size still impressed him. The walls were filled with shelves containing ingredients of every possible kind. Powders and liquids stood next to all sorts of jars holding the oddest items. A lot of it seemed harvested from different animals – at least Martel hoped it came from animals – including different organs. One glass bottle held three feathers. To Martel's chagrin, any labels were written in what he guessed to be Sindhian.
Besides the impressive array of ingredients, the large chamber also held a fireplace and several worktables, complete with a number of tools. The last thing of note had to be a great book placed open on a small writing desk; a number of other volumes stood on a shelf above.
"Come here."This chapter's initial release occurred on the n0vell--Bjjn site.
Martel joined Mistress Rana by the worktables. He glanced over the items present. In many ways, both tools and reagents looked similar to those used on the floor below.
"What is the difference between alchemy and apothecary work?"
"The former involves magic?" Martel guessed.
"Simply put, yes. Any fool can grind powders and stir ingredients to make a salve. But with the gift of magic, so much more can be done," Mistress Rana explained. "Here in Aster, alchemy has usually been done by adding spellwork to the process. You wish to make a healing potion, you pour healing power into a liquid able to bind magic. A crude manner."
Martel listened intently.
"Sindhian alchemy is more refined. Spellwork is used to draw magic from the ingredients, thereby allowing them far more uses and effects." She picked up some leaves that Martel recognised as foxglove. "In the hands of an apothecary, these can make a tonic to strengthen the heart. To a Sindhian alchemist, along with other reagents, these simple leaves have the power to cure someone at death's door."
Martel's eyes widened. This was exactly the knowledge he wanted, the kind that seemed worth pursuing.
Without sparing him a second glance, Moira turned away. "Enough chatter. Harriet and William, you spar against each other. Edward, you're up against the alchemist here."
***
In between classes, Martel left the school for an errand. Thankfully, not as far as the copper lanes; he would have no trouble making it back for his second lesson in fire magic, this time without running or gasping for breath. He only ventured to the merchants' district, walking until he found a peddler of firewood. Entering the small courtyard in front of the trader's house, he saw great logs stacked to one side and workers piling some of them onto a cart. A clerk appeared, giving the young visitor an inquisitive glance.
"I am Master Martel of the Lyceum," he said. Wizards impressed people, he had learned.
The clerk inclined his head. "How can I be of service, master mage?"
"I wish to buy firewood, as you can imagine. Five silvers' worth."
"Very well, good master. Delivered to your school?"
"No." Martel gave as good a description as he could of the derelict house in the copper lanes and the route thereto, including its inhabitants. "Now, simply because they are children, do not expect you can get away with anything. If the firewood is not delivered, or the amount is light, I will know." He straightened his back, trying to look intimidating while hoping that a layman's imagination concerning magic would do the rest.
"Never, master mage. We pride ourselves on our good practices. Good firewood at good prices, my master always says."
"Very well." Martel handed over five eagles.
"It shall be delivered today, good master."
"See that it is."
Chapter 261: A Sindhian BeginningA Sindhian BeginningPelday morning, Mistress Rana did as promised. When Martel arrived in the workshop, she simply gestured for him to follow her through the back. For the first time, he ascended the stairs to enter her laboratory.In some ways, it looked like he might have expected from the apothecary downstairs, though the size still impressed him. The walls were filled with shelves containing ingredients of every possible kind. Powders and liquids stood next to all sorts of jars holding the oddest items. A lot of it seemed harvested from different animals at least Martel hoped it came from animals including different organs. One glass bottle held three feathers. To Martel's chagrin, any labels were written in what he guessed to be Sindhian.Besides the impressive array of ingredients, the large chamber also held a fireplace and several worktables, complete with a number of tools. The last thing of note had to be a great book placed open on a small writing desk; a number of other volumes stood on a shelf above."Come here."This chapter's initial release occurred on the n0vell--Bjjn site.Martel joined Mistress Rana by the worktables. He glanced over the items present. In many ways, both tools and reagents looked similar to those used on the floor below."What is the difference between alchemy and apothecary work?""The former involves magic?" Martel guessed."Simply put, yes. Any fool can grind powders and stir ingredients to make a salve. But with the gift of magic, so much more can be done," Mistress Rana explained. "Here in Aster, alchemy has usually been done by adding spellwork to the process. You wish to make a healing potion, you pour healing power into a liquid able to bind magic. A crude manner."Martel listened intently."Sindhian alchemy is more refined. Spellwork is used to draw magic from the ingredients, thereby allowing them far more uses and effects." She picked up some leaves that Martel recognised as foxglove. "In the hands of an apothecary, these can make a tonic to strengthen the heart. To a Sindhian alchemist, along with other reagents, these simple leaves have the power to cure someone at death's door."Martel's eyes widened. This was exactly the knowledge he wanted, the kind that seemed worth pursuing.Without sparing him a second glance, Moira turned away. "Enough chatter. Harriet and William, you spar against each other. Edward, you're up against the alchemist here."***In between classes, Martel left the school for an errand. Thankfully, not as far as the copper lanes; he would have no trouble making it back for his second lesson in fire magic, this time without running or gasping for breath. He only ventured to the merchants' district, walking until he found a peddler of firewood. Entering the small courtyard in front of the trader's house, he saw great logs stacked to one side and workers piling some of them onto a cart. A clerk appeared, giving the young visitor an inquisitive glance."I am Master Martel of the Lyceum," he said. Wizards impressed people, he had learned.The clerk inclined his head. "How can I be of service, master mage?""I wish to buy firewood, as you can imagine. Five silvers' worth.""Very well, good master. Delivered to your school?""No." Martel gave as good a description as he could of the derelict house in the copper lanes and the route thereto, including its inhabitants. "Now, simply because they are children, do not expect you can get away with anything. If the firewood is not delivered, or the amount is light, I will know." He straightened his back, trying to look intimidating while hoping that a layman's imagination concerning magic would do the rest."Never, master mage. We pride ourselves on our good practices. Good firewood at good prices, my master always says.""Very well." Martel handed over five eagles."It shall be delivered today, good master.""See that it is."
