Chapter 71: The Source of Silver
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Chapter 71: The Source of Silver
The Source of Silver
When Martel arrived in the apothecary, only Nora was present. She gave him mortar and pestle along with instructions, and he began to make powders.
"How are you enjoying the infirmary?" She gave him a wry look. "I noticed you the other day, making the rounds. I don't miss doing all that menial work."
"It's not so bad." He gave a shrug to seem casual and conceal the fact that being around sick people still made him uneasy. "Not too different from helping out in the kitchens or assisting Master Jerome."Ñøv€l-B1n was the first platform to present this chapter.
"Right, you still have meal duty. Sometimes I forget you're still a novice."
"Wait, acolytes don't have to work in the kitchens?"
She laughed. "No, they don't. You'll still have to help Master Jerome. I don't, since I'm the apprentice to Mistress Rana."
One more thing to look forward to, besides exchanging his dull, brown robe for one with colour and deserving of respect.
Mistress Rana appeared from the inner door to her laboratory. Without acknowledging either of her helpers, she began rummaging through one of the cupboards holding ingredients. "Where is my thistleroot?" She straightened up, sending Martel and Nora a demanding look.
"Here, mistress." The apprentice held out a bowl filled with dried plants. "I just finished these."
The alchemist grabbed the offering. "Add them to the market list, and make sure you go today. I shall need more soon."
"Yes, mistress."
All the students looked at each other, ignorant to a man.
"The exact process is not known, of course, but it is commonly accepted that gold is caused by sunlight, just as silver is caused by moonlight," Fenrick explained. "Magic is stronger at night when the sun has set, and especially when the moon is up and full. Reversely, we may find our powers less strong in daytime."
His teacher continued down another avenue of thought, but Martel was reminded of inquisitors with the emblem of the Sun on their uniforms. Their dislike towards magic wielders did not come simply from their work hunting maleficars, he realised. It was more fundamental than that. The Sun, the recipient of their worship and his own as a faithful adherent of the Empire's religion, weakened magic; more than that, gold, the metal created by that object of reverence, killed magic altogether.
Martel had spent many a Solday in the temple at Engby, listening to Father Julius' sermons. He had never questioned the veracity of the Faith or failed to show obeisance. Now he wondered if all this time, that same Faith disdained him simply for being born with the ability to perform magic. Had this been why his father had told him to hide his abilities throughout his childhood?
Unable to find answers at present, Martel returned his attention to the lesson.
~
Between classes, Martel rested in his room as he often did. Especially on Mandays, where he had his practical lesson in magical theory, meant to exert him as much as possible to train his spellpower, and kitchen duty for supper right after. As he heard the bell, he began to make his way towards the arena for the class. Passing through the common room, he saw Maximilian engaged in a card game against some of the other mageknights. Nobody played dice in a room full of mages who might manipulate the throw. A small stack of silver lay between them, and Martel stopped to watch how the hand played out.
One of the boys showed his cards. Martel did not know the rules, but he gathered a hand with kings and sorcerers was strong. That also proved the case; Maximilian jumped to his feet and threw his cards across the table followed by a string of curses while his opponent pulled his winnings towards himself with glee. Across the room, the other students watched with amusement.
"It's just a game," Martel told his friend. "You shouldn't play if it makes you so angry."
"Oh, shut up," the mageknight replied with anger. "I had good coin at stake!"
"Not much for you. I have seen you spend more on most nights out."
"Yeah, buying drinks for you! But what would a poor peasant know of money?" Maximilian stomped away, his shoulder deliberately pushing into Martel as he passed the novice. Laughter could be heard from the corners. Feeling hurt, Martel watched his friend leave, but he did not have time to say or do anything; he was already late for class. But as he reached the arena to practise maintaining magical effects, training his magical power to strengthen it, he found it hard to concentrate.
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Chapter 71: The Source of Silver
The Source of Silver
When Martel arrived in the apothecary, only Nora was present. She gave him mortar and pestle along with instructions, and he began to make powders.
"How are you enjoying the infirmary?" She gave him a wry look. "I noticed you the other day, making the rounds. I don't miss doing all that menial work."
"It's not so bad." He gave a shrug to seem casual and conceal the fact that being around sick people still made him uneasy. "Not too different from helping out in the kitchens or assisting Master Jerome."Ñøv€l-B1n was the first platform to present this chapter.
"Right, you still have meal duty. Sometimes I forget you're still a novice."
"Wait, acolytes don't have to work in the kitchens?"
She laughed. "No, they don't. You'll still have to help Master Jerome. I don't, since I'm the apprentice to Mistress Rana."
One more thing to look forward to, besides exchanging his dull, brown robe for one with colour and deserving of respect.
Mistress Rana appeared from the inner door to her laboratory. Without acknowledging either of her helpers, she began rummaging through one of the cupboards holding ingredients. "Where is my thistleroot?" She straightened up, sending Martel and Nora a demanding look.
"Here, mistress." The apprentice held out a bowl filled with dried plants. "I just finished these."
The alchemist grabbed the offering. "Add them to the market list, and make sure you go today. I shall need more soon."
"Yes, mistress."
All the students looked at each other, ignorant to a man.
"The exact process is not known, of course, but it is commonly accepted that gold is caused by sunlight, just as silver is caused by moonlight," Fenrick explained. "Magic is stronger at night when the sun has set, and especially when the moon is up and full. Reversely, we may find our powers less strong in daytime."
His teacher continued down another avenue of thought, but Martel was reminded of inquisitors with the emblem of the Sun on their uniforms. Their dislike towards magic wielders did not come simply from their work hunting maleficars, he realised. It was more fundamental than that. The Sun, the recipient of their worship and his own as a faithful adherent of the Empire's religion, weakened magic; more than that, gold, the metal created by that object of reverence, killed magic altogether.
Martel had spent many a Solday in the temple at Engby, listening to Father Julius' sermons. He had never questioned the veracity of the Faith or failed to show obeisance. Now he wondered if all this time, that same Faith disdained him simply for being born with the ability to perform magic. Had this been why his father had told him to hide his abilities throughout his childhood?
Unable to find answers at present, Martel returned his attention to the lesson.
~
Between classes, Martel rested in his room as he often did. Especially on Mandays, where he had his practical lesson in magical theory, meant to exert him as much as possible to train his spellpower, and kitchen duty for supper right after. As he heard the bell, he began to make his way towards the arena for the class. Passing through the common room, he saw Maximilian engaged in a card game against some of the other mageknights. Nobody played dice in a room full of mages who might manipulate the throw. A small stack of silver lay between them, and Martel stopped to watch how the hand played out.
One of the boys showed his cards. Martel did not know the rules, but he gathered a hand with kings and sorcerers was strong. That also proved the case; Maximilian jumped to his feet and threw his cards across the table followed by a string of curses while his opponent pulled his winnings towards himself with glee. Across the room, the other students watched with amusement.
"It's just a game," Martel told his friend. "You shouldn't play if it makes you so angry."
"Oh, shut up," the mageknight replied with anger. "I had good coin at stake!"
"Not much for you. I have seen you spend more on most nights out."
"Yeah, buying drinks for you! But what would a poor peasant know of money?" Maximilian stomped away, his shoulder deliberately pushing into Martel as he passed the novice. Laughter could be heard from the corners. Feeling hurt, Martel watched his friend leave, but he did not have time to say or do anything; he was already late for class. But as he reached the arena to practise maintaining magical effects, training his magical power to strengthen it, he found it hard to concentrate.
Chapter 71: The Source of SilverThe Source of SilverWhen Martel arrived in the apothecary, only Nora was present. She gave him mortar and pestle along with instructions, and he began to make powders."How are you enjoying the infirmary?" She gave him a wry look. "I noticed you the other day, making the rounds. I don't miss doing all that menial work.""It's not so bad." He gave a shrug to seem casual and conceal the fact that being around sick people still made him uneasy. "Not too different from helping out in the kitchens or assisting Master Jerome."Nvl-B1n was the first platform to present this chapter."Right, you still have meal duty. Sometimes I forget you're still a novice.""Wait, acolytes don't have to work in the kitchens?"She laughed. "No, they don't. You'll still have to help Master Jerome. I don't, since I'm the apprentice to Mistress Rana."One more thing to look forward to, besides exchanging his dull, brown robe for one with colour and deserving of respect.Mistress Rana appeared from the inner door to her laboratory. Without acknowledging either of her helpers, she began rummaging through one of the cupboards holding ingredients. "Where is my thistleroot?" She straightened up, sending Martel and Nora a demanding look."Here, mistress." The apprentice held out a bowl filled with dried plants. "I just finished these."The alchemist grabbed the offering. "Add them to the market list, and make sure you go today. I shall need more soon.""Yes, mistress."All the students looked at each other, ignorant to a man."The exact process is not known, of course, but it is commonly accepted that gold is caused by sunlight, just as silver is caused by moonlight," Fenrick explained. "Magic is stronger at night when the sun has set, and especially when the moon is up and full. Reversely, we may find our powers less strong in daytime."His teacher continued down another avenue of thought, but Martel was reminded of inquisitors with the emblem of the Sun on their uniforms. Their dislike towards magic wielders did not come simply from their work hunting maleficars, he realised. It was more fundamental than that. The Sun, the recipient of their worship and his own as a faithful adherent of the Empire's religion, weakened magic; more than that, gold, the metal created by that object of reverence, killed magic altogether.Martel had spent many a Solday in the temple at Engby, listening to Father Julius' sermons. He had never questioned the veracity of the Faith or failed to show obeisance. Now he wondered if all this time, that same Faith disdained him simply for being born with the ability to perform magic. Had this been why his father had told him to hide his abilities throughout his childhood?Unable to find answers at present, Martel returned his attention to the lesson.~Between classes, Martel rested in his room as he often did. Especially on Mandays, where he had his practical lesson in magical theory, meant to exert him as much as possible to train his spellpower, and kitchen duty for supper right after. As he heard the bell, he began to make his way towards the arena for the class. Passing through the common room, he saw Maximilian engaged in a card game against some of the other mageknights. Nobody played dice in a room full of mages who might manipulate the throw. A small stack of silver lay between them, and Martel stopped to watch how the hand played out.One of the boys showed his cards. Martel did not know the rules, but he gathered a hand with kings and sorcerers was strong. That also proved the case; Maximilian jumped to his feet and threw his cards across the table followed by a string of curses while his opponent pulled his winnings towards himself with glee. Across the room, the other students watched with amusement."It's just a game," Martel told his friend. "You shouldn't play if it makes you so angry.""Oh, shut up," the mageknight replied with anger. "I had good coin at stake!""Not much for you. I have seen you spend more on most nights out.""Yeah, buying drinks for you! But what would a poor peasant know of money?" Maximilian stomped away, his shoulder deliberately pushing into Martel as he passed the novice. Laughter could be heard from the corners. Feeling hurt, Martel watched his friend leave, but he did not have time to say or do anything; he was already late for class. But as he reached the arena to practise maintaining magical effects, training his magical power to strengthen it, he found it hard to concentrate.
