Chapter 46: Bread and Balm
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Chapter 46: Bread and Balm
Bread and Balm
Martel rarely if ever enjoyed his lessons in combat magic on Maldays, but today, he was more eager to get through them than usual. When he had made it home last night after visiting the homeless children, it had been after last bell, and Eleanor was already asleep.
He tried to catch her alone at breakfast, but her friends did not allow that to happen, and Martel was not interested in discussing anything within earshot of them. His first lesson and his work in the apothecary kept him busy for two bells after that; Mistress Rana reproached him for being distracted and warned him not to take his place for granted.
He considered asking Maximilian for advice, but he already knew the mageknight would advocate for swift action involving cracked heads. Since he would not be able to leave the Lyceum until his classes and chores were done anyway, he armed himself with patience and waited for his second lesson to be over.Ñøv€l-B1n was the first platform to present this chapter.
~
After two hours where the mageknights sparred with each other and Martel practised his empowerment, he could finally catch up to Eleanor on her own.
"Hey, can we talk?"
"Sure. Do you mind if we walk towards the girls' tower? I really need a bath sooner rather than later."
"Yeah, no problem." They began to walk. Martel scratched the back of his head, not sure how to explain. "So, you said before I dive into something, I should ask you about it first."
"Yes...? Martel, are you in trouble?" She stopped to look at him.
"Oh no, I'm not. But there are these children living on the streets... I'm trying to help them."
Eleanor resumed walking. "That is admirable, but there must be thousands of such children in Morcaster. What could you hope to do?"
"But why doesn't anyone do something? The Faith of the Sun or the emperor."
"I think they do. I am sure the priests give out food and other charities as they can, but the resources are limited, and the emperor has other concerns."
"Then he is not a very good emperor."
Eleanor stopped in her tracks. "You should not say that out loud. You cannot know who is listening," she spoke softly.
"Fine. But what about the Lyceum? I do tasks for Master Jerome. Can't he hire some of these kids to work for him, so they don't have to live on the streets?"
"I doubt he has that great a need. Most of the work is done by the servants already employed. I am not sure there is much you can do for these children, except perhaps spare them some food or coin when you can."
"It's not just that. They have bruises all over, Eleanor. Someone is hurting these kids." Martel's dismay could be read all over his face. They slowed down as they approached the girls' dormitory tower.
Martel laughed a little. "I told you it would."
The other children pressed forward, pulling up sleeves or removing ragged shirts to reveal their own injuries, and Martel set to work.
"How did this happen?" He asked as he tended to a large bruise on Badger's back.
"It was big Gerald," Badger replied.
"Quiet," Weasel exclaimed.
"Who is this Gerald?" Martel asked.
"He's one of the bigger boys," Mouse explained. "He collects what we earn, and if we don't earn enough, he beats us."
"Don't tell him any more," Weasel shouted.
Martel's expression darkened. "Where can I find this fellow?"
"He comes every night after sunset to collect what we earned today," Badger helpfully said.
Martel looked up at the sky. Its colour matched his mood; it would not be long.
~
Frail moonlight and distant streetlamps struggled to illuminate the alley when a gangly youth of some eighteen years entered. With hard eyes, sinewy arms, and a few scars on his face, he was the sort of boy that would have scared Martel a year ago.
"Come out, Weasel, you little weasel." The boy laughed at his own joke. He fell quiet as Martel stepped out from the shadows. "Who the blazes are you?"
"You are done here. Don't you ever return."
Gerald howled with laughter. "Do you know who you're messing with? I'll be joining the Broken Blades soon. They got my back. And they'll carve you up, assuming I let you live." He drew a knife with a snarl and sprinted forward.
In a flash, Martel remembered Master Fenrick in the ruins, and how he raised an earthen wall to protect himself. Acting quickly, he stamped his feet into the ground pouring his magic through the motion. He saw it clearly in his mind and willed it to happen.
From the stamped dirt, earth shot up in front of his charging adversary. Not quite as impressive as Fenrick's wall, it only reached ankle height, but it was enough to trip Gerald. The scraggly boy fell, planting his face in the ground. Martel stepped forward to pin him down with a knee against his shoulder. Igniting flames around his hand, Martel held it in front of Gerald's eyes.
"I am a mage. If you ever come back here, I'll set you on fire."
Martel rose up and stepped back, letting the boy get on his feet, all the while maintaining the flames around his hand. Gerald stumbled backwards, turned around, and ran for dear life.
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Chapter 46: Bread and Balm
Bread and Balm
Martel rarely if ever enjoyed his lessons in combat magic on Maldays, but today, he was more eager to get through them than usual. When he had made it home last night after visiting the homeless children, it had been after last bell, and Eleanor was already asleep.
He tried to catch her alone at breakfast, but her friends did not allow that to happen, and Martel was not interested in discussing anything within earshot of them. His first lesson and his work in the apothecary kept him busy for two bells after that; Mistress Rana reproached him for being distracted and warned him not to take his place for granted.
He considered asking Maximilian for advice, but he already knew the mageknight would advocate for swift action involving cracked heads. Since he would not be able to leave the Lyceum until his classes and chores were done anyway, he armed himself with patience and waited for his second lesson to be over.Ñøv€l-B1n was the first platform to present this chapter.
~
After two hours where the mageknights sparred with each other and Martel practised his empowerment, he could finally catch up to Eleanor on her own.
"Hey, can we talk?"
"Sure. Do you mind if we walk towards the girls' tower? I really need a bath sooner rather than later."
"Yeah, no problem." They began to walk. Martel scratched the back of his head, not sure how to explain. "So, you said before I dive into something, I should ask you about it first."
"Yes...? Martel, are you in trouble?" She stopped to look at him.
"Oh no, I'm not. But there are these children living on the streets... I'm trying to help them."
Eleanor resumed walking. "That is admirable, but there must be thousands of such children in Morcaster. What could you hope to do?"
"But why doesn't anyone do something? The Faith of the Sun or the emperor."
"I think they do. I am sure the priests give out food and other charities as they can, but the resources are limited, and the emperor has other concerns."
"Then he is not a very good emperor."
Eleanor stopped in her tracks. "You should not say that out loud. You cannot know who is listening," she spoke softly.
"Fine. But what about the Lyceum? I do tasks for Master Jerome. Can't he hire some of these kids to work for him, so they don't have to live on the streets?"
"I doubt he has that great a need. Most of the work is done by the servants already employed. I am not sure there is much you can do for these children, except perhaps spare them some food or coin when you can."
"It's not just that. They have bruises all over, Eleanor. Someone is hurting these kids." Martel's dismay could be read all over his face. They slowed down as they approached the girls' dormitory tower.
Martel laughed a little. "I told you it would."
The other children pressed forward, pulling up sleeves or removing ragged shirts to reveal their own injuries, and Martel set to work.
"How did this happen?" He asked as he tended to a large bruise on Badger's back.
"It was big Gerald," Badger replied.
"Quiet," Weasel exclaimed.
"Who is this Gerald?" Martel asked.
"He's one of the bigger boys," Mouse explained. "He collects what we earn, and if we don't earn enough, he beats us."
"Don't tell him any more," Weasel shouted.
Martel's expression darkened. "Where can I find this fellow?"
"He comes every night after sunset to collect what we earned today," Badger helpfully said.
Martel looked up at the sky. Its colour matched his mood; it would not be long.
~
Frail moonlight and distant streetlamps struggled to illuminate the alley when a gangly youth of some eighteen years entered. With hard eyes, sinewy arms, and a few scars on his face, he was the sort of boy that would have scared Martel a year ago.
"Come out, Weasel, you little weasel." The boy laughed at his own joke. He fell quiet as Martel stepped out from the shadows. "Who the blazes are you?"
"You are done here. Don't you ever return."
Gerald howled with laughter. "Do you know who you're messing with? I'll be joining the Broken Blades soon. They got my back. And they'll carve you up, assuming I let you live." He drew a knife with a snarl and sprinted forward.
In a flash, Martel remembered Master Fenrick in the ruins, and how he raised an earthen wall to protect himself. Acting quickly, he stamped his feet into the ground pouring his magic through the motion. He saw it clearly in his mind and willed it to happen.
From the stamped dirt, earth shot up in front of his charging adversary. Not quite as impressive as Fenrick's wall, it only reached ankle height, but it was enough to trip Gerald. The scraggly boy fell, planting his face in the ground. Martel stepped forward to pin him down with a knee against his shoulder. Igniting flames around his hand, Martel held it in front of Gerald's eyes.
"I am a mage. If you ever come back here, I'll set you on fire."
Martel rose up and stepped back, letting the boy get on his feet, all the while maintaining the flames around his hand. Gerald stumbled backwards, turned around, and ran for dear life.
Chapter 46: Bread and BalmBread and BalmMartel rarely if ever enjoyed his lessons in combat magic on Maldays, but today, he was more eager to get through them than usual. When he had made it home last night after visiting the homeless children, it had been after last bell, and Eleanor was already asleep.He tried to catch her alone at breakfast, but her friends did not allow that to happen, and Martel was not interested in discussing anything within earshot of them. His first lesson and his work in the apothecary kept him busy for two bells after that; Mistress Rana reproached him for being distracted and warned him not to take his place for granted.He considered asking Maximilian for advice, but he already knew the mageknight would advocate for swift action involving cracked heads. Since he would not be able to leave the Lyceum until his classes and chores were done anyway, he armed himself with patience and waited for his second lesson to be over.Nvl-B1n was the first platform to present this chapter.~After two hours where the mageknights sparred with each other and Martel practised his empowerment, he could finally catch up to Eleanor on her own."Hey, can we talk?""Sure. Do you mind if we walk towards the girls' tower? I really need a bath sooner rather than later.""Yeah, no problem." They began to walk. Martel scratched the back of his head, not sure how to explain. "So, you said before I dive into something, I should ask you about it first.""Yes...? Martel, are you in trouble?" She stopped to look at him."Oh no, I'm not. But there are these children living on the streets... I'm trying to help them."Eleanor resumed walking. "That is admirable, but there must be thousands of such children in Morcaster. What could you hope to do?""But why doesn't anyone do something? The Faith of the Sun or the emperor.""I think they do. I am sure the priests give out food and other charities as they can, but the resources are limited, and the emperor has other concerns.""Then he is not a very good emperor."Eleanor stopped in her tracks. "You should not say that out loud. You cannot know who is listening," she spoke softly."Fine. But what about the Lyceum? I do tasks for Master Jerome. Can't he hire some of these kids to work for him, so they don't have to live on the streets?""I doubt he has that great a need. Most of the work is done by the servants already employed. I am not sure there is much you can do for these children, except perhaps spare them some food or coin when you can.""It's not just that. They have bruises all over, Eleanor. Someone is hurting these kids." Martel's dismay could be read all over his face. They slowed down as they approached the girls' dormitory tower.Martel laughed a little. "I told you it would."The other children pressed forward, pulling up sleeves or removing ragged shirts to reveal their own injuries, and Martel set to work."How did this happen?" He asked as he tended to a large bruise on Badger's back."It was big Gerald," Badger replied."Quiet," Weasel exclaimed."Who is this Gerald?" Martel asked."He's one of the bigger boys," Mouse explained. "He collects what we earn, and if we don't earn enough, he beats us.""Don't tell him any more," Weasel shouted.Martel's expression darkened. "Where can I find this fellow?""He comes every night after sunset to collect what we earned today," Badger helpfully said.Martel looked up at the sky. Its colour matched his mood; it would not be long.~Frail moonlight and distant streetlamps struggled to illuminate the alley when a gangly youth of some eighteen years entered. With hard eyes, sinewy arms, and a few scars on his face, he was the sort of boy that would have scared Martel a year ago."Come out, Weasel, you little weasel." The boy laughed at his own joke. He fell quiet as Martel stepped out from the shadows. "Who the blazes are you?""You are done here. Don't you ever return."Gerald howled with laughter. "Do you know who you're messing with? I'll be joining the Broken Blades soon. They got my back. And they'll carve you up, assuming I let you live." He drew a knife with a snarl and sprinted forward.In a flash, Martel remembered Master Fenrick in the ruins, and how he raised an earthen wall to protect himself. Acting quickly, he stamped his feet into the ground pouring his magic through the motion. He saw it clearly in his mind and willed it to happen.From the stamped dirt, earth shot up in front of his charging adversary. Not quite as impressive as Fenrick's wall, it only reached ankle height, but it was enough to trip Gerald. The scraggly boy fell, planting his face in the ground. Martel stepped forward to pin him down with a knee against his shoulder. Igniting flames around his hand, Martel held it in front of Gerald's eyes."I am a mage. If you ever come back here, I'll set you on fire."Martel rose up and stepped back, letting the boy get on his feet, all the while maintaining the flames around his hand. Gerald stumbled backwards, turned around, and ran for dear life.
