Chapter 84 - 85
"Don’t be mad, Master," he said, standing up with a smile and dusting off his clothes to no effect. "A good apprentice is a sign of a good teacher. You should be proud of me."
"Give me something to be proud of and perhaps that’ll be the case." The grumpy sword master retreated into his home and slammed the door shut behind him.
Rolling his eyes, Alistar relied on his magical awareness to perceive the energies within the waters around him, casting his own outward and making them interact. Now that his influence against the element had been established, he willed a large globe of water to gather in front of him that was about the same size as his torso. Maintaining his focus, he took a sip from the floating, slightly undulating liquid before he dipped one arm inside of it and shook it around only to repeat the process with his other limbs, and then eventually his torso and head. Like this, he thoroughly cleaned his body, which left the water muddy once more. Just when he was about to dismiss the globe, the door opened and Tramon stormed outside with long strides, giving him a look that forbade him from dismissing the water just yet.
Once his master had finished cleaning himself, he turned around and went back inside of his house. "Tomorrow, same time," was all he said before closing the door. "And remember, no magic."
"Will I finally be promoted to a third-tier apprentice?" called Alistar, taking the following silence as a negative. "Oh, I’ll need a new practice sword as well!"
"Have your uncle get you one when you ask him to buy me a new cane!"
Alistar scratched at his head in a helpless manner and then quietly left the yard, hurrying down the nearest pathway which was now dotted with mud from his master’s earlier actions. Looking up at the gloomy autumn sky, he suppressed a shiver as a cold breeze brushed against his wet body, which prompted him to seek out a place to dry off.
Many of the collegia’s structures were connected by cobbled pathways, all sheltered by stone ceilings with tiled rooves that were held up by long lines of immaculately carved columns of white stone. Since the closest building was one of the many dormitories that housed much of the collegia’s students—whether scholarly, magic-oriented, or those pursuing the way of the sword—he decided that it wouldn’t be best to head inside. Instead, he made his way over to the library where he could still be productive by passing the time doing some casual research.
"But the floors are made of stone," he pleaded, feeling disheartened that the old lady in charge of supervising the library had almost immediately kicked him out. "Please, I’ll clean up my mess." Looking at the water he’d trailed in, he willed the mass of drops to float up into the air and then ferried them outside of the doorway where they dropped harmlessly to the ground in a mock instance of rain.
"Rules are rules," said the woman, who had lifted her eyebrows at the casual display of magic. "I don’t care if you’re the count’s nephew or the king himself. Nobody is coming into my library drenched in water." With that, she closed the doors behind her with a light click.
Alistar had no choice but to wait outside, shivering lightly in the cool autumn afternoon.