Chapter 265: Downstairs Reunion
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Chapter 265: Downstairs Reunion
Downstairs Reunion
For most of his Soldays since becoming an acolyte, Martel had spent his shifts in the workshops making ink and doing similar labour, using his skills honed in the apothecary. Yet he sensed today would be different as Master Jerome held up a hand to keep him from going to his usual spot in the laboratory.
"I'm afraid I'll need your help elsewhere," the artificer said. He sounded almost apologetic, which made Martel a little worried.
"With what?"
"Trouble in the pipes again. There's a block somewhere, and I fear it must be underground."
The sewers. Martel's nose wrinkled just at the memory.
"Nobody's favourite task, but if you'll go down and check, I won't ask more of you today. You did well last time, and I fear that's the reward. You get to do it again." Master Jerome held up a key.
With a sigh, Martel reached out and grabbed it.
***
As soon as he opened the hatch, Martel missed his cloth mask with its disguising scent. He could use his scarf, but he feared that the stench would only settle, and for the rest of the winter, he would smell the sewers when going outside wearing it. Taking a deep breath through his mouth, Martel descended.
He reached the grate door and unlocked it. The tunnel beyond looked foreboding as ever; perhaps more than it had the first time, now that Martel knew what dangers lurked inside the darkness. Of course, he also knew none would reach him. He would only go as far as where the pipes from the Lyceum lay; nowhere near the old catacombs, whose restless inhabitants were held back by the Archean symbols anyway.
Summoning a flame for light, Martel moved down the dark corridor. He told himself to stay calm; a month's training as a battlemage had already paid off. Any skeleton with the bad sense to walk around would get an improved fire bolt straight in the skull.
He reached the beginning of the sewers, which unfortunately also meant the stench became even stronger. Taking small breaths through his mouth, Martel continued alongside the stream of water, careful to stay on the ledge.
Finally, he reached the crossroads where the different pipes from the castle met, their contents spewing into the stream below. Moving from one to the other, Martel continued until he found one without any flowing water. Not looking forward to what he might find, he brought his light closer and bent down to look. It seemed like a mass of tangled rags lay across the opening, which felt similar to last time. It made Martel wonder who exactly was throwing out these dirty pieces of cloth, and more importantly, why they sent them down the pipes. If Martel ever found out who, he would drag them down here and throw them in the stream.
Taking a step back, Martel launched a fire bolt into the mass, letting it burn. He quickly regretted it as it only made the stench worse, not to mention the smoke that erupted.
Turning around, eager to take his leave, Martel froze as he heard movement down one of the tunnels that met at this intersection.
"Very well. Long after last bell, when no one else is around, I'll be there." He looked at her expectantly.
"Me too."
***
Martel tried not to be distracted during his session with Eleanor, listening carefully to her explanations and doing the work as instructed. Yet all the while, he wondered if Julia would show.
If someone had asked him, Martel could not explain exactly why he cared so much. Morcaster had plenty of homeless people and outcasts. He could spend all day trying to help them, and it would barely amount to anything.
Yet something felt particularly pitiful about the young girl. Maybe because Martel knew the dread of being stalked by inquisitors regardless of one's innocence. Perhaps her fate seemed especially cruel, losing everything and resigned to living in the sewers of all places. Or it could be, though he always disliked thinking about it, Julia reminded him of someone he had failed to help years ago.
No matter the specific reason, Martel gathered any food he could during the meals. Eating alone turned out to be useful for this purpose; he ate only the stew, impossible to get to Julia anyway, and saved all the bread and vegetables for her.
Once his Khivan clock told him it was an hour after last bell, Martel left the Lyceum. The weather was scarcely better than yesterday, and he regretted asking Julia to come up to the streets. He could only hope she was not already there, waiting for him.
Martel reached the alley and settled down where it met the square, trying to shield himself from the wind. At least the lack of snowfall allowed for better visibility, though the dark alleyway did not help in that regard.
"Hullo."
He flinched hearing the voice. "Hey, Julia." The relief at seeing her overtook his initial fright. He extended the bundle of food in his hands, which she quickly accepted. "Listen, if I could find a safe place for you to stay, would you want to?"
"I don't want to stay with anybody," she quickly replied.
"I understand. What if I found somewhere you'd be all on your own? Nobody else. I'd be the only one who knew you were even there. It would be dry and warm."
She looked at him sceptically. "Where?"
"I'd have to look into it, but by the docks. A room just for you."
Julia wrinkled her forehead in thought. "Alright. If you swear never to tell anyone I'm there."
He placed his hand over his heart. "I promise."
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Chapter 265: Downstairs Reunion
Downstairs Reunion
For most of his Soldays since becoming an acolyte, Martel had spent his shifts in the workshops making ink and doing similar labour, using his skills honed in the apothecary. Yet he sensed today would be different as Master Jerome held up a hand to keep him from going to his usual spot in the laboratory.
"I'm afraid I'll need your help elsewhere," the artificer said. He sounded almost apologetic, which made Martel a little worried.
"With what?"
"Trouble in the pipes again. There's a block somewhere, and I fear it must be underground."
The sewers. Martel's nose wrinkled just at the memory.
"Nobody's favourite task, but if you'll go down and check, I won't ask more of you today. You did well last time, and I fear that's the reward. You get to do it again." Master Jerome held up a key.
With a sigh, Martel reached out and grabbed it.
***
As soon as he opened the hatch, Martel missed his cloth mask with its disguising scent. He could use his scarf, but he feared that the stench would only settle, and for the rest of the winter, he would smell the sewers when going outside wearing it. Taking a deep breath through his mouth, Martel descended.
He reached the grate door and unlocked it. The tunnel beyond looked foreboding as ever; perhaps more than it had the first time, now that Martel knew what dangers lurked inside the darkness. Of course, he also knew none would reach him. He would only go as far as where the pipes from the Lyceum lay; nowhere near the old catacombs, whose restless inhabitants were held back by the Archean symbols anyway.
Summoning a flame for light, Martel moved down the dark corridor. He told himself to stay calm; a month's training as a battlemage had already paid off. Any skeleton with the bad sense to walk around would get an improved fire bolt straight in the skull.
He reached the beginning of the sewers, which unfortunately also meant the stench became even stronger. Taking small breaths through his mouth, Martel continued alongside the stream of water, careful to stay on the ledge.
Finally, he reached the crossroads where the different pipes from the castle met, their contents spewing into the stream below. Moving from one to the other, Martel continued until he found one without any flowing water. Not looking forward to what he might find, he brought his light closer and bent down to look. It seemed like a mass of tangled rags lay across the opening, which felt similar to last time. It made Martel wonder who exactly was throwing out these dirty pieces of cloth, and more importantly, why they sent them down the pipes. If Martel ever found out who, he would drag them down here and throw them in the stream.
Taking a step back, Martel launched a fire bolt into the mass, letting it burn. He quickly regretted it as it only made the stench worse, not to mention the smoke that erupted.
Turning around, eager to take his leave, Martel froze as he heard movement down one of the tunnels that met at this intersection.
"Very well. Long after last bell, when no one else is around, I'll be there." He looked at her expectantly.
"Me too."
***
Martel tried not to be distracted during his session with Eleanor, listening carefully to her explanations and doing the work as instructed. Yet all the while, he wondered if Julia would show.
If someone had asked him, Martel could not explain exactly why he cared so much. Morcaster had plenty of homeless people and outcasts. He could spend all day trying to help them, and it would barely amount to anything.
Yet something felt particularly pitiful about the young girl. Maybe because Martel knew the dread of being stalked by inquisitors regardless of one's innocence. Perhaps her fate seemed especially cruel, losing everything and resigned to living in the sewers of all places. Or it could be, though he always disliked thinking about it, Julia reminded him of someone he had failed to help years ago.
No matter the specific reason, Martel gathered any food he could during the meals. Eating alone turned out to be useful for this purpose; he ate only the stew, impossible to get to Julia anyway, and saved all the bread and vegetables for her.
Once his Khivan clock told him it was an hour after last bell, Martel left the Lyceum. The weather was scarcely better than yesterday, and he regretted asking Julia to come up to the streets. He could only hope she was not already there, waiting for him.
Martel reached the alley and settled down where it met the square, trying to shield himself from the wind. At least the lack of snowfall allowed for better visibility, though the dark alleyway did not help in that regard.
"Hullo."
He flinched hearing the voice. "Hey, Julia." The relief at seeing her overtook his initial fright. He extended the bundle of food in his hands, which she quickly accepted. "Listen, if I could find a safe place for you to stay, would you want to?"
"I don't want to stay with anybody," she quickly replied.
"I understand. What if I found somewhere you'd be all on your own? Nobody else. I'd be the only one who knew you were even there. It would be dry and warm."
She looked at him sceptically. "Where?"
"I'd have to look into it, but by the docks. A room just for you."
Julia wrinkled her forehead in thought. "Alright. If you swear never to tell anyone I'm there."
He placed his hand over his heart. "I promise."
Chapter 265: Downstairs ReunionDownstairs ReunionFor most of his Soldays since becoming an acolyte, Martel had spent his shifts in the workshops making ink and doing similar labour, using his skills honed in the apothecary. Yet he sensed today would be different as Master Jerome held up a hand to keep him from going to his usual spot in the laboratory."I'm afraid I'll need your help elsewhere," the artificer said. He sounded almost apologetic, which made Martel a little worried."With what?""Trouble in the pipes again. There's a block somewhere, and I fear it must be underground."The sewers. Martel's nose wrinkled just at the memory."Nobody's favourite task, but if you'll go down and check, I won't ask more of you today. You did well last time, and I fear that's the reward. You get to do it again." Master Jerome held up a key.With a sigh, Martel reached out and grabbed it.***As soon as he opened the hatch, Martel missed his cloth mask with its disguising scent. He could use his scarf, but he feared that the stench would only settle, and for the rest of the winter, he would smell the sewers when going outside wearing it. Taking a deep breath through his mouth, Martel descended.He reached the grate door and unlocked it. The tunnel beyond looked foreboding as ever; perhaps more than it had the first time, now that Martel knew what dangers lurked inside the darkness. Of course, he also knew none would reach him. He would only go as far as where the pipes from the Lyceum lay; nowhere near the old catacombs, whose restless inhabitants were held back by the Archean symbols anyway.Summoning a flame for light, Martel moved down the dark corridor. He told himself to stay calm; a month's training as a battlemage had already paid off. Any skeleton with the bad sense to walk around would get an improved fire bolt straight in the skull.He reached the beginning of the sewers, which unfortunately also meant the stench became even stronger. Taking small breaths through his mouth, Martel continued alongside the stream of water, careful to stay on the ledge.Finally, he reached the crossroads where the different pipes from the castle met, their contents spewing into the stream below. Moving from one to the other, Martel continued until he found one without any flowing water. Not looking forward to what he might find, he brought his light closer and bent down to look. It seemed like a mass of tangled rags lay across the opening, which felt similar to last time. It made Martel wonder who exactly was throwing out these dirty pieces of cloth, and more importantly, why they sent them down the pipes. If Martel ever found out who, he would drag them down here and throw them in the stream.Taking a step back, Martel launched a fire bolt into the mass, letting it burn. He quickly regretted it as it only made the stench worse, not to mention the smoke that erupted.Turning around, eager to take his leave, Martel froze as he heard movement down one of the tunnels that met at this intersection."Very well. Long after last bell, when no one else is around, I'll be there." He looked at her expectantly."Me too."***Martel tried not to be distracted during his session with Eleanor, listening carefully to her explanations and doing the work as instructed. Yet all the while, he wondered if Julia would show.If someone had asked him, Martel could not explain exactly why he cared so much. Morcaster had plenty of homeless people and outcasts. He could spend all day trying to help them, and it would barely amount to anything.Yet something felt particularly pitiful about the young girl. Maybe because Martel knew the dread of being stalked by inquisitors regardless of one's innocence. Perhaps her fate seemed especially cruel, losing everything and resigned to living in the sewers of all places. Or it could be, though he always disliked thinking about it, Julia reminded him of someone he had failed to help years ago.No matter the specific reason, Martel gathered any food he could during the meals. Eating alone turned out to be useful for this purpose; he ate only the stew, impossible to get to Julia anyway, and saved all the bread and vegetables for her.Once his Khivan clock told him it was an hour after last bell, Martel left the Lyceum. The weather was scarcely better than yesterday, and he regretted asking Julia to come up to the streets. He could only hope she was not already there, waiting for him.Martel reached the alley and settled down where it met the square, trying to shield himself from the wind. At least the lack of snowfall allowed for better visibility, though the dark alleyway did not help in that regard."Hullo."He flinched hearing the voice. "Hey, Julia." The relief at seeing her overtook his initial fright. He extended the bundle of food in his hands, which she quickly accepted. "Listen, if I could find a safe place for you to stay, would you want to?""I don't want to stay with anybody," she quickly replied."I understand. What if I found somewhere you'd be all on your own? Nobody else. I'd be the only one who knew you were even there. It would be dry and warm."She looked at him sceptically. "Where?""I'd have to look into it, but by the docks. A room just for you."Julia wrinkled her forehead in thought. "Alright. If you swear never to tell anyone I'm there."He placed his hand over his heart. "I promise."
