Chapter 57: Plays in Motion
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Chapter 57: Plays in Motion
Plays in Motion
When Martel woke, the events of yesterday felt more like a dream, but a pair of black shoes next to his own boots dispelled any such notion. He opened the drawer to look at his borrowed garments. Inside his commode, the clothes lay neatly folded together. The value of the silk shirt alone made him uncomfortable. Martel pushed the drawer shut and got ready for breakfast and kitchen duty.
~
Since he spent breakfast helping, Martel only saw Maximilian at lunch. "Hullo. Last night was fun."This chapter made its debut appearance via N0v3lB1n.
Martel grunted in reply. He still felt a little sore about how his own part had played out. He had not spoken much either when the carriage drove them back to the Lyceum after the feast, though Maximilian had been too exuberant to notice. "I still have your clothes. I can give them back after we've eaten."
"Keep them, mate. They do not fit me anymore, and I hardly need them anyway."
Martel disliked receiving such an expensive gift; he did not have need for such garments anyway. Then again, this had all been for Maximilian's sake, and if he did not want the clothes back, so be it.
~
His lesson in empowerment passed as usual, though at the end, as Martel was leaving, a familiar voice called out to him. He turned around to look at Eleanor. "Martel, do you have plans tomorrow night?"
"Not as such, why?"
"My family has their summer celebration then. I have been asked to invite you," she explained.
"Asked?"
"My father saw you perform, and it is his custom to invite all mageknights and battlemages," Eleanor elaborated. "Anyone who will serve in the legions."
"But I'm not a battlemage," Martel stressed. He knew this whole thing had been a bad idea.
"I told my father as much," she quickly assured him. "But since we are friends, he told me to invite you regardless. He probably wants to convince you to become one." She laughed a little, but her mirth disappeared seeing Martel's alarmed expression. "Only a jest. He will probably be too busy with other guests."
"I don't think I quite fit in at your family's celebration."
"You fit in with me."
"You're like birds, flying south for the winter and back again for summer."
"Indeed, and just about as free, except we travel by cart, not wings."
"Do you ever travel beyond Aster?"
"Certainly! When winter beckons, you'll find us in Sindhu. But that's in the future," the hedge mage laughed. "Those who travel, we don't make plans far in advance."
"I'll be sure to come and see your plays while you are in town," Martel promised. "Is it Roland and his trials?" he asked hopefully.
"While I'm sure my compatriots are happy that you appreciate their past work, I think the crowd requires a new spectacle." Regnar's eyes twinkled. "In fact, we have a brand new play, written by our own storyteller, never performed before in Morcaster."
"That's exciting. Do I know the story?"
"You do, but I won't reveal anything. Come see it when you can, and bring your friends!"
~
Regnar watched as Martel left, smiling while he puffed on his pipe.
"Old man, you could lend a hand!" came the reproach from the storyteller of the troupe.
"Yes, yes, hold your horses. Just seeing the boy off. I owe him quite a debt, after all."
"True. Almost a pity they rescued you – else we might have been so lucky to have him take your place," the actor remarked. "Come on. We could use a magic hand to hoist the scenery."
"I'm coming, I'm coming," the old hedge mage declared. "Where's Ian? I need to let him know our new play will have special guests who should have free seats."
"Boy's out fetching food. Don't worry, the play will be a success, and your new friends suitably impressed! I wrote it myself, after all."
"With liberties," Regnar added, smiling slyly.
The storyteller gave a shrug. "Every good story improves with embellishment."
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Chapter 57: Plays in Motion
Plays in Motion
When Martel woke, the events of yesterday felt more like a dream, but a pair of black shoes next to his own boots dispelled any such notion. He opened the drawer to look at his borrowed garments. Inside his commode, the clothes lay neatly folded together. The value of the silk shirt alone made him uncomfortable. Martel pushed the drawer shut and got ready for breakfast and kitchen duty.
~
Since he spent breakfast helping, Martel only saw Maximilian at lunch. "Hullo. Last night was fun."This chapter made its debut appearance via N0v3lB1n.
Martel grunted in reply. He still felt a little sore about how his own part had played out. He had not spoken much either when the carriage drove them back to the Lyceum after the feast, though Maximilian had been too exuberant to notice. "I still have your clothes. I can give them back after we've eaten."
"Keep them, mate. They do not fit me anymore, and I hardly need them anyway."
Martel disliked receiving such an expensive gift; he did not have need for such garments anyway. Then again, this had all been for Maximilian's sake, and if he did not want the clothes back, so be it.
~
His lesson in empowerment passed as usual, though at the end, as Martel was leaving, a familiar voice called out to him. He turned around to look at Eleanor. "Martel, do you have plans tomorrow night?"
"Not as such, why?"
"My family has their summer celebration then. I have been asked to invite you," she explained.
"Asked?"
"My father saw you perform, and it is his custom to invite all mageknights and battlemages," Eleanor elaborated. "Anyone who will serve in the legions."
"But I'm not a battlemage," Martel stressed. He knew this whole thing had been a bad idea.
"I told my father as much," she quickly assured him. "But since we are friends, he told me to invite you regardless. He probably wants to convince you to become one." She laughed a little, but her mirth disappeared seeing Martel's alarmed expression. "Only a jest. He will probably be too busy with other guests."
"I don't think I quite fit in at your family's celebration."
"You fit in with me."
"You're like birds, flying south for the winter and back again for summer."
"Indeed, and just about as free, except we travel by cart, not wings."
"Do you ever travel beyond Aster?"
"Certainly! When winter beckons, you'll find us in Sindhu. But that's in the future," the hedge mage laughed. "Those who travel, we don't make plans far in advance."
"I'll be sure to come and see your plays while you are in town," Martel promised. "Is it Roland and his trials?" he asked hopefully.
"While I'm sure my compatriots are happy that you appreciate their past work, I think the crowd requires a new spectacle." Regnar's eyes twinkled. "In fact, we have a brand new play, written by our own storyteller, never performed before in Morcaster."
"That's exciting. Do I know the story?"
"You do, but I won't reveal anything. Come see it when you can, and bring your friends!"
~
Regnar watched as Martel left, smiling while he puffed on his pipe.
"Old man, you could lend a hand!" came the reproach from the storyteller of the troupe.
"Yes, yes, hold your horses. Just seeing the boy off. I owe him quite a debt, after all."
"True. Almost a pity they rescued you – else we might have been so lucky to have him take your place," the actor remarked. "Come on. We could use a magic hand to hoist the scenery."
"I'm coming, I'm coming," the old hedge mage declared. "Where's Ian? I need to let him know our new play will have special guests who should have free seats."
"Boy's out fetching food. Don't worry, the play will be a success, and your new friends suitably impressed! I wrote it myself, after all."
"With liberties," Regnar added, smiling slyly.
The storyteller gave a shrug. "Every good story improves with embellishment."
Chapter 57: Plays in MotionPlays in MotionWhen Martel woke, the events of yesterday felt more like a dream, but a pair of black shoes next to his own boots dispelled any such notion. He opened the drawer to look at his borrowed garments. Inside his commode, the clothes lay neatly folded together. The value of the silk shirt alone made him uncomfortable. Martel pushed the drawer shut and got ready for breakfast and kitchen duty.~Since he spent breakfast helping, Martel only saw Maximilian at lunch. "Hullo. Last night was fun."This chapter made its debut appearance via N0v3lB1n.Martel grunted in reply. He still felt a little sore about how his own part had played out. He had not spoken much either when the carriage drove them back to the Lyceum after the feast, though Maximilian had been too exuberant to notice. "I still have your clothes. I can give them back after we've eaten.""Keep them, mate. They do not fit me anymore, and I hardly need them anyway."Martel disliked receiving such an expensive gift; he did not have need for such garments anyway. Then again, this had all been for Maximilian's sake, and if he did not want the clothes back, so be it.~His lesson in empowerment passed as usual, though at the end, as Martel was leaving, a familiar voice called out to him. He turned around to look at Eleanor. "Martel, do you have plans tomorrow night?""Not as such, why?""My family has their summer celebration then. I have been asked to invite you," she explained."Asked?""My father saw you perform, and it is his custom to invite all mageknights and battlemages," Eleanor elaborated. "Anyone who will serve in the legions.""But I'm not a battlemage," Martel stressed. He knew this whole thing had been a bad idea."I told my father as much," she quickly assured him. "But since we are friends, he told me to invite you regardless. He probably wants to convince you to become one." She laughed a little, but her mirth disappeared seeing Martel's alarmed expression. "Only a jest. He will probably be too busy with other guests.""I don't think I quite fit in at your family's celebration.""You fit in with me.""You're like birds, flying south for the winter and back again for summer.""Indeed, and just about as free, except we travel by cart, not wings.""Do you ever travel beyond Aster?""Certainly! When winter beckons, you'll find us in Sindhu. But that's in the future," the hedge mage laughed. "Those who travel, we don't make plans far in advance.""I'll be sure to come and see your plays while you are in town," Martel promised. "Is it Roland and his trials?" he asked hopefully."While I'm sure my compatriots are happy that you appreciate their past work, I think the crowd requires a new spectacle." Regnar's eyes twinkled. "In fact, we have a brand new play, written by our own storyteller, never performed before in Morcaster.""That's exciting. Do I know the story?""You do, but I won't reveal anything. Come see it when you can, and bring your friends!"~Regnar watched as Martel left, smiling while he puffed on his pipe."Old man, you could lend a hand!" came the reproach from the storyteller of the troupe."Yes, yes, hold your horses. Just seeing the boy off. I owe him quite a debt, after all.""True. Almost a pity they rescued you else we might have been so lucky to have him take your place," the actor remarked. "Come on. We could use a magic hand to hoist the scenery.""I'm coming, I'm coming," the old hedge mage declared. "Where's Ian? I need to let him know our new play will have special guests who should have free seats.""Boy's out fetching food. Don't worry, the play will be a success, and your new friends suitably impressed! I wrote it myself, after all.""With liberties," Regnar added, smiling slyly.The storyteller gave a shrug. "Every good story improves with embellishment."
