Firebrand

Having spent the last days in a flurry of activities, Martel found himself with time to spare as they waited for their efforts to bear fruit. After breakfast with Eleanor, they separated again, though this time for leisurely pursuits. As she went to visit her mother and sister, Martel set his sights on the Lyceum.

He had visited a few times over the years, mostly keeping in touch with a handful of the teachers. Not all welcomed him. Gilbert, still Master of Air and with a scar on his brow from the battle of the Alonde, strode past Martel without acknowledgement on the few occasions their paths had crossed.

In the entrance hall, he inquired with the acolytes working as clerks as to the teaching schedules. Learning who currently did not have class, Martel continued towards the teachers’ wing, leaving hushed whispers behind about the mage with the black staff.

“Enter, enter.” Martel did so, walking into Fenrick’s study. The old wizard raised his bushy eyebrows until they touched the hair on his head. “Ah, our benevolent imperator.”

“Well, I haven’t been that for years, and it was only for a day, but I suppose so.”

“How’s that staff of yours? Still working the same?”

Martel nodded and extended his hand, letting Fenrick take it. The Master of Lore ran his thumb over the piece of obsidian that served as its headpiece. “Remarkable. I wonder if the Lyceum would spare me for a few months and let me go to the Western Isles.”

“If you decide to go, let me know. I can write some letters of introduction.”

“That would be splendid.” Fenrick gave the staff back. “But you’ve had new travels since then, I take it. What new marvels do you bring me?”

“Nothing tangible, but I did have an experience in the far North of the celestial kind that you might enjoy.” “Oh? If I recall, astronomy was not your strongest card.”

“I can’t believe you remember that,” Martel mumbled.

“But Tyria, a fascinating land. If one can get along with the locals. It got a bit close for me more than once.”

“Master Fenrick, did you experience the solstice up by the mountains? Those they call the Pillars of the World?”

The old mage frowned. “No, I stayed with the loremasters in the cities and learned from them. Why do you ask?”

Martel took out a golden coin. “Well, I learned something that only the stars could teach you, I wager. Let me show you…”

After a good hour discussing the nature of magic and exchanging theory, Martel felt exhilarated the way only battle usually made him feel. He preferred this, as it involved no danger, and there was no risk he might feel guilty for setting someone on fire. It reminded Martel of his early days at the Lyceum when he had considered the position as Master of Lore enviable.

Perhaps in another life, he would have been a travelling loremaster, much like Fenrick in his youth had been. With their current plans of rebuilding Archen, Martel imagined his travelling days to be over, but perhaps his dream of being a Master of Lore could take their place. Certainly his time studying the heavens in the far North had given him much to consider regarding magic.

Going to his second visit, Martel knocked on the door to Alastair’s study. The Master of Fire opened, and his face turned to a smile. “My boy, you’re in town again!” After a tight hug, he gestured for Martel to come inside.

“I am, for now. Probably sailing out in a couple of fivedays.”

“Sailing? You were never a friend of the sea, if I recall. Going to Sindhu again?”

“I wouldn’t mind studying their alchemy some more, but that’s not the destination, no.” Martel hesitated, knowing the reaction that his next words would spark. “We’re going up the Savena until we reach Archen.”

His old teacher stared at him. “Really?” He let himself fall down onto a chair. “Your thirst for adventure keeps growing. I suppose nothing less could slake it.”

“In fact, we’ve already been there. Last year.”

“What? You never mentioned such plans on your previous visits!” Dıscover more novels at NoveIꜰire.net

As with most matters involving Atreus, discretion had been the choice of the day. “We weren’t sure what we’d find.”

“Well, what did you find?”

“Undead. Lots and lots of them. We cleared out the worst of it.” Except for the very worst, who escaped, but Martel had no desire to go into such details. “In fact, we are cleansing the whole place. Making it fit for a settlement again.”

Alastair narrowed his eyes, looking at his former student. “Why?”

“To settle there.”

The expected reaction came. “You can’t be serious! Those old ruins? With all manner of curses lingering!”

“We’re dealing with that.” Martel hoped so anyway. That was Atreus’s responsibility.

“I ask again, why? Why go through such an ordeal to live in a place no man should live?”

Martel hesitated again. He had only spoken to a few about his deeper reasons. “To build us a home. Not just for me and Eleanor, but any who need it. Especially children gifted with magic.”

Understanding spread across the old firemage’s face. “Lad, you can’t undo the past. You can’t change everything you went through.”

“I can’t. But I can change it for others.”

“Well, if I may defend the honour of the Lyceum, which I do feel dutybound to do… things are quite well here since Juliana took over as headmistress. And the war ended, which we do appreciate your hand in.” Alastair used his own to gesture at Martel. “My students are learning enchantment first and foremost. We’ve spread streetlamps to most of the bridge and harbour district now.”

Not yet the copper lanes, Martel noticed, but perhaps that would come. “They have a good teacher.”

“Hah, you should see my acolytes whenever they have their first lesson with me.” Alastair laughed. “Always the same question. Did I train the Firebrand? I tell them yes, but their fascination immediately fades when they realise that I only taught you basic elemental magic. I think each of them imagines they’ll surpass you.”

Martel hoped they did not because he could not imagine what kind of crucible they would have to go through for their powers to develop beyond his. “I’m sure one day, some of them will.”

“That’s going to be difficult for you, I imagine,” Alastair considered. “Getting acolytes, I mean. Students to train. Aster will do everything in its power to oppose you on that.”

“If you can spare any, that would certainly be appreciated.”

The Master of Fire laughed again. “Sadly, I must be loyal to the school that hired me. Probably best we don’t speak of this to Juliana. She might ban you from the grounds if she found out you intended to start a rival school.”

“She’ll find out eventually, I imagine.” Martel hoped so, at least. As it currently stood, without students, their rival school would not get very far.