Chapter 294: The Glow of an Idea
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Chapter 294: The Glow of an Idea
The Glow of an Idea
Malday meant another encounter with the mageknights, though not until his second combat lesson. Before noon, Martel practised staff fighting as usual with the other battlemages. He had long since abandoned the notion that this would be anything other than a waste of time. Despite how staff fighting had helped them win their brawl against the mageknights last time, the other acolytes seemed to still consider training with weapons to be beneath them. As probably the only one with experience in actual combat, Martel knew better, just as he had shown during the fight with the mageknights; but his attempts to explain this fell on deaf ears.
So he showed them instead. Their half-hearted approach to practising empowerment also left them slow at raising their shields, which more than once left them at Martel's mercy whenever he outmanoeuvred them to attack twice in succession, landing a blow somewhere painful.
Martel knew that complaining to Reynard would lead nowhere. Not because like Moira, the teacher believed he knew best, but simply because he did not care. He could ask Reynard to spar with him instead of fighting the other students, which would certainly provide the challenge he lacked. Unfortunately, Martel suspected that Reynard would take umbrage at this, perceive it to be a slight or challenge of some sort, and use the sparring to thrash Martel. Despite his success against the acolytes, Martel knew he stood no chance against the Master of War in a contest of arms.
So Martel continued, defeating the other three again and again, earning spiteful looks and mumbled insults in return. After a full bell, each of them had bruises and aching spots. They should be grateful for the opportunity to learn from a better fighter, but instead, they only seemed to be resentful towards him. Whatever understanding had been found on a previous Malday, uniting the fire acolytes against the mageknights, it seemed to have been short-lived.
***This chapter's initial release occurred on the n0vell--Bjjn site.
The second lesson fared much the same. They performed practices and duels with the mageknights left unsupervised; as long as they took their positions as Reynard dictated, he did not care about their performance.
Julia's mother might have been an alchemist, but it did not seem to have been inherited. Which fit with what Master Fenrick had told him; none could predict who was gifted with magic. Certainly blood did not seem to matter at all.
"You made this?" Her big eyes turned from the vial towards him.
"I did. Well, with help from my teacher. That's why I can't make more. I'm still learning," Martel admitted. He dearly wished he had his own little workshop where he might practice. It was already taking him ages to learn how to suffuse the magic in the ingredients; if he could only practice the distillation process once a fiveday, he would be dead on a Khivan battlefield long before he made his first potion by himself.
"My mother did alchemy."
"I remember you told me."
"I helped her. Prepared the herbs and such. Cleaned her tools."
"If I had a workshop of my own, I'd be glad to employ you as my apprentice." Martel smiled at the thought.
While she finished eating, the idea slowly crept into his mind. He already paid for this chamber; presumably, Julia would not mind if he used it for the purpose of practising his alchemy. It would not involve other people, after all, nor should it draw much attention. It lacked a fireplace, of course, but he was a fire acolyte; he could heat up the cauldron directly if need be. The only hindrance, besides his lacking skills, would be the tools and supplies. Spending half his income just on the rent left him with little money. But as he had learned, for a mage, you could always find ways to earn coin. Only, given his troubles with Duke Cheval and the inquisitors, he just had to do it legally, for once.
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Chapter 294: The Glow of an Idea
The Glow of an Idea
Malday meant another encounter with the mageknights, though not until his second combat lesson. Before noon, Martel practised staff fighting as usual with the other battlemages. He had long since abandoned the notion that this would be anything other than a waste of time. Despite how staff fighting had helped them win their brawl against the mageknights last time, the other acolytes seemed to still consider training with weapons to be beneath them. As probably the only one with experience in actual combat, Martel knew better, just as he had shown during the fight with the mageknights; but his attempts to explain this fell on deaf ears.
So he showed them instead. Their half-hearted approach to practising empowerment also left them slow at raising their shields, which more than once left them at Martel's mercy whenever he outmanoeuvred them to attack twice in succession, landing a blow somewhere painful.
Martel knew that complaining to Reynard would lead nowhere. Not because like Moira, the teacher believed he knew best, but simply because he did not care. He could ask Reynard to spar with him instead of fighting the other students, which would certainly provide the challenge he lacked. Unfortunately, Martel suspected that Reynard would take umbrage at this, perceive it to be a slight or challenge of some sort, and use the sparring to thrash Martel. Despite his success against the acolytes, Martel knew he stood no chance against the Master of War in a contest of arms.
So Martel continued, defeating the other three again and again, earning spiteful looks and mumbled insults in return. After a full bell, each of them had bruises and aching spots. They should be grateful for the opportunity to learn from a better fighter, but instead, they only seemed to be resentful towards him. Whatever understanding had been found on a previous Malday, uniting the fire acolytes against the mageknights, it seemed to have been short-lived.
***This chapter's initial release occurred on the n0vell--Bjjn site.
The second lesson fared much the same. They performed practices and duels with the mageknights left unsupervised; as long as they took their positions as Reynard dictated, he did not care about their performance.
Julia's mother might have been an alchemist, but it did not seem to have been inherited. Which fit with what Master Fenrick had told him; none could predict who was gifted with magic. Certainly blood did not seem to matter at all.
"You made this?" Her big eyes turned from the vial towards him.
"I did. Well, with help from my teacher. That's why I can't make more. I'm still learning," Martel admitted. He dearly wished he had his own little workshop where he might practice. It was already taking him ages to learn how to suffuse the magic in the ingredients; if he could only practice the distillation process once a fiveday, he would be dead on a Khivan battlefield long before he made his first potion by himself.
"My mother did alchemy."
"I remember you told me."
"I helped her. Prepared the herbs and such. Cleaned her tools."
"If I had a workshop of my own, I'd be glad to employ you as my apprentice." Martel smiled at the thought.
While she finished eating, the idea slowly crept into his mind. He already paid for this chamber; presumably, Julia would not mind if he used it for the purpose of practising his alchemy. It would not involve other people, after all, nor should it draw much attention. It lacked a fireplace, of course, but he was a fire acolyte; he could heat up the cauldron directly if need be. The only hindrance, besides his lacking skills, would be the tools and supplies. Spending half his income just on the rent left him with little money. But as he had learned, for a mage, you could always find ways to earn coin. Only, given his troubles with Duke Cheval and the inquisitors, he just had to do it legally, for once.
Chapter 294: The Glow of an IdeaThe Glow of an IdeaMalday meant another encounter with the mageknights, though not until his second combat lesson. Before noon, Martel practised staff fighting as usual with the other battlemages. He had long since abandoned the notion that this would be anything other than a waste of time. Despite how staff fighting had helped them win their brawl against the mageknights last time, the other acolytes seemed to still consider training with weapons to be beneath them. As probably the only one with experience in actual combat, Martel knew better, just as he had shown during the fight with the mageknights; but his attempts to explain this fell on deaf ears.So he showed them instead. Their half-hearted approach to practising empowerment also left them slow at raising their shields, which more than once left them at Martel's mercy whenever he outmanoeuvred them to attack twice in succession, landing a blow somewhere painful.Martel knew that complaining to Reynard would lead nowhere. Not because like Moira, the teacher believed he knew best, but simply because he did not care. He could ask Reynard to spar with him instead of fighting the other students, which would certainly provide the challenge he lacked. Unfortunately, Martel suspected that Reynard would take umbrage at this, perceive it to be a slight or challenge of some sort, and use the sparring to thrash Martel. Despite his success against the acolytes, Martel knew he stood no chance against the Master of War in a contest of arms.So Martel continued, defeating the other three again and again, earning spiteful looks and mumbled insults in return. After a full bell, each of them had bruises and aching spots. They should be grateful for the opportunity to learn from a better fighter, but instead, they only seemed to be resentful towards him. Whatever understanding had been found on a previous Malday, uniting the fire acolytes against the mageknights, it seemed to have been short-lived.***This chapter's initial release occurred on the n0vell--Bjjn site.The second lesson fared much the same. They performed practices and duels with the mageknights left unsupervised; as long as they took their positions as Reynard dictated, he did not care about their performance.Julia's mother might have been an alchemist, but it did not seem to have been inherited. Which fit with what Master Fenrick had told him; none could predict who was gifted with magic. Certainly blood did not seem to matter at all."You made this?" Her big eyes turned from the vial towards him."I did. Well, with help from my teacher. That's why I can't make more. I'm still learning," Martel admitted. He dearly wished he had his own little workshop where he might practice. It was already taking him ages to learn how to suffuse the magic in the ingredients; if he could only practice the distillation process once a fiveday, he would be dead on a Khivan battlefield long before he made his first potion by himself."My mother did alchemy.""I remember you told me.""I helped her. Prepared the herbs and such. Cleaned her tools.""If I had a workshop of my own, I'd be glad to employ you as my apprentice." Martel smiled at the thought.While she finished eating, the idea slowly crept into his mind. He already paid for this chamber; presumably, Julia would not mind if he used it for the purpose of practising his alchemy. It would not involve other people, after all, nor should it draw much attention. It lacked a fireplace, of course, but he was a fire acolyte; he could heat up the cauldron directly if need be. The only hindrance, besides his lacking skills, would be the tools and supplies. Spending half his income just on the rent left him with little money. But as he had learned, for a mage, you could always find ways to earn coin. Only, given his troubles with Duke Cheval and the inquisitors, he just had to do it legally, for once.
