Chapter 375: Three Spells
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Chapter 375: Three Spells
Three Spells
His second day in the infirmary, Martel woke early. Not a surprise, considering how much he had slept the previous days. It was still dark outside, so he summoned a flame to hover above his head and picked up Eleanor's book to read. He noticed that the nurse on duty gave him a look with an odd expression, but in the darkness of the hall, he could not interpret it, so he simply continued with reading. It was a fascinating tale of three Archean heroes. The title referred to their specialisations in magic; spellslinger, spellblade, and spellbreaker. Martel had heard tales of the latter, even back home, and the Lyceum had a statue of Atreus the Spellbreaker in its courtyard. But he had not heard of the other two, Nikolaos and Sophia. From what he could tell, a spellslinger used ranged attacks, much like himself, whereas a spellblade fought up close, much like a mageknight. As for the last one, a spellbreaker seemed a curious mix aimed more at defeating enemy magic-wielders than fighting in any particular style.
Although he knew it was childish, Martel could not help but imagine himself and his friends as the trio of heroes. Obviously, he would be the slinger; Eleanor, using a sword, would be the blade, which left Maximilian as the breaker, mostly out of necessity.
But the adventures were grand. Facing maleficars and undead monstrosities, saving people and thwarting villains. Martel could only imagine such a life. He was bound for the next twenty years, and assuming he survived, he imagined that he would have had his fill of danger by that point. Still, it was wonderful to read and imagine.
***
In the afternoon, the overseer came to visit Martel. She carried a red bundle in her hands and sat down next to him, while he propped himself up against the wall to sit upright.
"I took the liberty of entering your room to fetch your spare robes. The other ones are being mended and will be returned to you soon," Mistress Juliana informed him, handing over the bundle.
At least the blood would not stain much against the red colour. "Thanks." He accepted the clothes and placed them in his lap, feeling awkward. He was only wearing an undershirt besides his pants, making him feel vulnerable under the stern gaze of the overseer.
"As to the man who attacked you, he is dead." She stated this in such a factual tone, Martel did not understand at first. "We believe all of his compatriots are dead as well, though we continue to search for information to be certain."The debut release of this chapter happened at Ñøv€l-B1n.
Martel eagerly wanted to ask questions, namely how it had happened and what made the overseer so sure they had caught the right people in question, but as always, her demeanour discouraged this. The fact that she knew this was the work of the group and not a single person, though, suggested she was right. "That's a relief."
"We could not take any alive for questioning, which leaves us wondering why they targeted you. Any thoughts?"
Plenty, but none that he would share. "I can't say. I've never met any islanders before."
***
Martel's determination to face his fear only went so far. He avoided the main squares of the market district, especially the street where he had been attacked, and took a much longer route through back alleys. While darker and perhaps more ominous, at least he could see others coming from a distance. And despite knowing the threat against him most likely was indeed gone, as Mistress Juliana had declared, he still felt a little relief to reach Julia's insula. Quickly and with curt words, Martel paid the rent for a room. He considered whether to go up and visit her, but she might notice either his frazzled state of mind or that he moved more slowly due to his injuries. The girl was anxious enough; no need to scare her with talk of assassins on the street. Better to save his visit for another time when they might brew potions together.
Leaving the large building, Martel did not set a course back the way he came, but ventured into another part of the district. He still had to pull himself together on occasion; even sticking to the smaller alleys, he sometimes had to cross the larger thoroughfares with their usual crowd of people going in either direction. Once more, his route cost him time, but he finally made it to The Golden Goose.
Inside, the hustle and bustle of the great common room almost made him flinch, but Martel composed himself. He looked around until he spotted two mageknights at a table with three cups. Smiling, he walked over and joined them.
"There he is!" Maximilian raised his drink in greeting.
"I am surprised you are already allowed to leave the infirmary. Not to mention, that you would wish to go out tonight." Eleanor gave him an inquisitive look.
"You cannot keep our boy down," came the boisterous reply from her companion.
Martel gave a shrug. "I figured this was the healing I needed most."
She raised an eyebrow. "Ale?"
"Friendship," replied the fire acolyte, feeling silly even as he said it, but he was rewarded by a half smile from Eleanor.
"Alright, enough of that!" Maximilian raised his cup further in a gesture for the others to do the same. "A toast! To thwarting dastardly assassins from distant lands!"
"Cheers!"
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Chapter 375: Three Spells
Three Spells
His second day in the infirmary, Martel woke early. Not a surprise, considering how much he had slept the previous days. It was still dark outside, so he summoned a flame to hover above his head and picked up Eleanor's book to read. He noticed that the nurse on duty gave him a look with an odd expression, but in the darkness of the hall, he could not interpret it, so he simply continued with reading. It was a fascinating tale of three Archean heroes. The title referred to their specialisations in magic; spellslinger, spellblade, and spellbreaker. Martel had heard tales of the latter, even back home, and the Lyceum had a statue of Atreus the Spellbreaker in its courtyard. But he had not heard of the other two, Nikolaos and Sophia. From what he could tell, a spellslinger used ranged attacks, much like himself, whereas a spellblade fought up close, much like a mageknight. As for the last one, a spellbreaker seemed a curious mix aimed more at defeating enemy magic-wielders than fighting in any particular style.
Although he knew it was childish, Martel could not help but imagine himself and his friends as the trio of heroes. Obviously, he would be the slinger; Eleanor, using a sword, would be the blade, which left Maximilian as the breaker, mostly out of necessity.
But the adventures were grand. Facing maleficars and undead monstrosities, saving people and thwarting villains. Martel could only imagine such a life. He was bound for the next twenty years, and assuming he survived, he imagined that he would have had his fill of danger by that point. Still, it was wonderful to read and imagine.
***
In the afternoon, the overseer came to visit Martel. She carried a red bundle in her hands and sat down next to him, while he propped himself up against the wall to sit upright.
"I took the liberty of entering your room to fetch your spare robes. The other ones are being mended and will be returned to you soon," Mistress Juliana informed him, handing over the bundle.
At least the blood would not stain much against the red colour. "Thanks." He accepted the clothes and placed them in his lap, feeling awkward. He was only wearing an undershirt besides his pants, making him feel vulnerable under the stern gaze of the overseer.
"As to the man who attacked you, he is dead." She stated this in such a factual tone, Martel did not understand at first. "We believe all of his compatriots are dead as well, though we continue to search for information to be certain."The debut release of this chapter happened at Ñøv€l-B1n.
Martel eagerly wanted to ask questions, namely how it had happened and what made the overseer so sure they had caught the right people in question, but as always, her demeanour discouraged this. The fact that she knew this was the work of the group and not a single person, though, suggested she was right. "That's a relief."
"We could not take any alive for questioning, which leaves us wondering why they targeted you. Any thoughts?"
Plenty, but none that he would share. "I can't say. I've never met any islanders before."
***
Martel's determination to face his fear only went so far. He avoided the main squares of the market district, especially the street where he had been attacked, and took a much longer route through back alleys. While darker and perhaps more ominous, at least he could see others coming from a distance. And despite knowing the threat against him most likely was indeed gone, as Mistress Juliana had declared, he still felt a little relief to reach Julia's insula. Quickly and with curt words, Martel paid the rent for a room. He considered whether to go up and visit her, but she might notice either his frazzled state of mind or that he moved more slowly due to his injuries. The girl was anxious enough; no need to scare her with talk of assassins on the street. Better to save his visit for another time when they might brew potions together.
Leaving the large building, Martel did not set a course back the way he came, but ventured into another part of the district. He still had to pull himself together on occasion; even sticking to the smaller alleys, he sometimes had to cross the larger thoroughfares with their usual crowd of people going in either direction. Once more, his route cost him time, but he finally made it to The Golden Goose.
Inside, the hustle and bustle of the great common room almost made him flinch, but Martel composed himself. He looked around until he spotted two mageknights at a table with three cups. Smiling, he walked over and joined them.
"There he is!" Maximilian raised his drink in greeting.
"I am surprised you are already allowed to leave the infirmary. Not to mention, that you would wish to go out tonight." Eleanor gave him an inquisitive look.
"You cannot keep our boy down," came the boisterous reply from her companion.
Martel gave a shrug. "I figured this was the healing I needed most."
She raised an eyebrow. "Ale?"
"Friendship," replied the fire acolyte, feeling silly even as he said it, but he was rewarded by a half smile from Eleanor.
"Alright, enough of that!" Maximilian raised his cup further in a gesture for the others to do the same. "A toast! To thwarting dastardly assassins from distant lands!"
"Cheers!"
Chapter 375: Three SpellsThree SpellsHis second day in the infirmary, Martel woke early. Not a surprise, considering how much he had slept the previous days. It was still dark outside, so he summoned a flame to hover above his head and picked up Eleanor's book to read. He noticed that the nurse on duty gave him a look with an odd expression, but in the darkness of the hall, he could not interpret it, so he simply continued with reading. It was a fascinating tale of three Archean heroes. The title referred to their specialisations in magic; spellslinger, spellblade, and spellbreaker. Martel had heard tales of the latter, even back home, and the Lyceum had a statue of Atreus the Spellbreaker in its courtyard. But he had not heard of the other two, Nikolaos and Sophia. From what he could tell, a spellslinger used ranged attacks, much like himself, whereas a spellblade fought up close, much like a mageknight. As for the last one, a spellbreaker seemed a curious mix aimed more at defeating enemy magic-wielders than fighting in any particular style.Although he knew it was childish, Martel could not help but imagine himself and his friends as the trio of heroes. Obviously, he would be the slinger; Eleanor, using a sword, would be the blade, which left Maximilian as the breaker, mostly out of necessity.But the adventures were grand. Facing maleficars and undead monstrosities, saving people and thwarting villains. Martel could only imagine such a life. He was bound for the next twenty years, and assuming he survived, he imagined that he would have had his fill of danger by that point. Still, it was wonderful to read and imagine.***In the afternoon, the overseer came to visit Martel. She carried a red bundle in her hands and sat down next to him, while he propped himself up against the wall to sit upright."I took the liberty of entering your room to fetch your spare robes. The other ones are being mended and will be returned to you soon," Mistress Juliana informed him, handing over the bundle.At least the blood would not stain much against the red colour. "Thanks." He accepted the clothes and placed them in his lap, feeling awkward. He was only wearing an undershirt besides his pants, making him feel vulnerable under the stern gaze of the overseer."As to the man who attacked you, he is dead." She stated this in such a factual tone, Martel did not understand at first. "We believe all of his compatriots are dead as well, though we continue to search for information to be certain."The debut release of this chapter happened at Nvl-B1n.Martel eagerly wanted to ask questions, namely how it had happened and what made the overseer so sure they had caught the right people in question, but as always, her demeanour discouraged this. The fact that she knew this was the work of the group and not a single person, though, suggested she was right. "That's a relief.""We could not take any alive for questioning, which leaves us wondering why they targeted you. Any thoughts?"Plenty, but none that he would share. "I can't say. I've never met any islanders before."***Martel's determination to face his fear only went so far. He avoided the main squares of the market district, especially the street where he had been attacked, and took a much longer route through back alleys. While darker and perhaps more ominous, at least he could see others coming from a distance. And despite knowing the threat against him most likely was indeed gone, as Mistress Juliana had declared, he still felt a little relief to reach Julia's insula. Quickly and with curt words, Martel paid the rent for a room. He considered whether to go up and visit her, but she might notice either his frazzled state of mind or that he moved more slowly due to his injuries. The girl was anxious enough; no need to scare her with talk of assassins on the street. Better to save his visit for another time when they might brew potions together.Leaving the large building, Martel did not set a course back the way he came, but ventured into another part of the district. He still had to pull himself together on occasion; even sticking to the smaller alleys, he sometimes had to cross the larger thoroughfares with their usual crowd of people going in either direction. Once more, his route cost him time, but he finally made it to The Golden Goose.Inside, the hustle and bustle of the great common room almost made him flinch, but Martel composed himself. He looked around until he spotted two mageknights at a table with three cups. Smiling, he walked over and joined them."There he is!" Maximilian raised his drink in greeting."I am surprised you are already allowed to leave the infirmary. Not to mention, that you would wish to go out tonight." Eleanor gave him an inquisitive look."You cannot keep our boy down," came the boisterous reply from her companion.Martel gave a shrug. "I figured this was the healing I needed most."She raised an eyebrow. "Ale?""Friendship," replied the fire acolyte, feeling silly even as he said it, but he was rewarded by a half smile from Eleanor."Alright, enough of that!" Maximilian raised his cup further in a gesture for the others to do the same. "A toast! To thwarting dastardly assassins from distant lands!""Cheers!"
