Chapter 119: In Style
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Chapter 119: In Style
In Style
With all his recent troubles, and his dedication to properly learning empowerment magic, Martel had paid less attention to his elemental skills lately. He felt guilty about it, as he had done this before and been called out by Master Alastair for it, but it was unavoidable. He was meant to spend some of his spare bells practising a variety of exercises to hone his elemental magic, but those free hours were quickly devoured by fight nights and sparring with Maximilian.
Still, Martel did not wish to disappoint his teacher, so he did his best to pay attention during the lesson and at least appear to be a dutiful student. Of course, that only lasted until a thought occurred to him concerning his next fight, or how much his back hurt from all his landings on the arena floor, or how hungry he felt all the time from his many physical activities.
His mind was engrossed on how to sharpen his ability when raising his shield while also using magic to attack when he absently pulled on water and fire to appear between his hands. The distraction meant he did not even notice what had happened at first.
"Martel."
His teacher's voice snapped his attention back to his surroundings. He looked at the space between his hands. Instead of flaming sparks or droplets of water, a cloud of steam hung in the air.
"You did it, lad."
Martel looked at Master Alastair. "I did?"
The balding man gave a smile. "Two elements conjured as one, creating something new. Well done."
The novice grinned and used a puff of air to dissolve the steam before conjuring it again.
~
Martel's joy lasted until he remembered his other tasks for the day. He had postponed it yesterday; he could not delay further. As uncomfortable as the prospect made him feel, he had to go see Kerra of the copper lanes and find out what she wanted. He doubted she planned an ambush or the like, but even so, he showed her note to Maximilian and asked the mageknight to accompany him. Ever helpful, and rarely disinclined towards danger and the possibility of fighting, the young viscount agreed.
Rather than cut straight through the market district, they walked west before turning south, reaching the slums without going near the harbour. While it felt a little excessive, there was no harm in taking the precaution. It did mean that they spent nearly two hours before they finally reached the establishment known as The Copper Drum.
The place looked much the same as last, with people drinking and gambling at most tables. The lutes of a string were plucked in feeble contest against the clamour of the hall, not to mention the hammers of carpenters working in an adjacent room.
"Where is this cat of yours?" asked Maximilian.
"Let's ask." They approached the bar, and Martel got the attention of the man serving drinks. "I'm here to see Kerra. She expects me."
The bartender exchanged words with a guard, who left.
"While we wait." Maximilian dropped a handful of pennies on the desk and received two mugs of ale, one of which he pushed towards Martel.
"Fine. But I can't keep doing this," the novice declared, for once daring to stare the Copper Lady straight in the eye. "I'll fight this Leatherfist, and I'll win. No matter what happens after that, with you and Tibert, it's none of my business."
"Of course." She smiled affably. "That was our agreement."
~
They walked home, Martel feeling burdened whereas drink seemed to have uplifted Maximilian. The mageknight hummed and sang a popular tune, switching between one or the other depending on when he remembered the lyrics.
"Max," Martel finally said, though he had to repeat himself before he got his friend's attention.
"Yes?"
"I think it's best you stay home from the fights. We don't want to draw attention unduly."
"And who will watch your back?" the mageknight protested.
"Well, I'm fighting alone in the ring whether you're present or not. It's nearly done, anyway."
Maximilian eyed him with suspicion. "Is this that Kerra woman's idea?"
"I was followed home the other night," Martel told him. "If I hadn't gone through the copper lanes, where Kerra's men chased him off, Tibert would know everything by now."
"Did you see the man following you? Or is that what she told you," Maximilian questioned.
"Look, I'm almost done. Two more nights, hopefully."
"I don't like this copper woman," the mageknight grumbled. "Her entire plan never seemed solid in the first place. A lot of steps for you to tread, just so she can win some money from this bald mug polisher."
"I don't care," Martel remarked wearily. "I'll do what she asks, and that'll be the end of it."
"And if she persists? If she demands another favour after this one, and another, lest she spills her mouth to the Lyceum?"
"We'll burn down her Stars-damned tavern with her inside of it."
Maximilian nodded thoughtfully. "If we are going down, we might as well do so in style."
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Chapter 119: In Style
In Style
With all his recent troubles, and his dedication to properly learning empowerment magic, Martel had paid less attention to his elemental skills lately. He felt guilty about it, as he had done this before and been called out by Master Alastair for it, but it was unavoidable. He was meant to spend some of his spare bells practising a variety of exercises to hone his elemental magic, but those free hours were quickly devoured by fight nights and sparring with Maximilian.
Still, Martel did not wish to disappoint his teacher, so he did his best to pay attention during the lesson and at least appear to be a dutiful student. Of course, that only lasted until a thought occurred to him concerning his next fight, or how much his back hurt from all his landings on the arena floor, or how hungry he felt all the time from his many physical activities.
His mind was engrossed on how to sharpen his ability when raising his shield while also using magic to attack when he absently pulled on water and fire to appear between his hands. The distraction meant he did not even notice what had happened at first.
"Martel."
His teacher's voice snapped his attention back to his surroundings. He looked at the space between his hands. Instead of flaming sparks or droplets of water, a cloud of steam hung in the air.
"You did it, lad."
Martel looked at Master Alastair. "I did?"
The balding man gave a smile. "Two elements conjured as one, creating something new. Well done."
The novice grinned and used a puff of air to dissolve the steam before conjuring it again.
~
Martel's joy lasted until he remembered his other tasks for the day. He had postponed it yesterday; he could not delay further. As uncomfortable as the prospect made him feel, he had to go see Kerra of the copper lanes and find out what she wanted. He doubted she planned an ambush or the like, but even so, he showed her note to Maximilian and asked the mageknight to accompany him. Ever helpful, and rarely disinclined towards danger and the possibility of fighting, the young viscount agreed.
Rather than cut straight through the market district, they walked west before turning south, reaching the slums without going near the harbour. While it felt a little excessive, there was no harm in taking the precaution. It did mean that they spent nearly two hours before they finally reached the establishment known as The Copper Drum.
The place looked much the same as last, with people drinking and gambling at most tables. The lutes of a string were plucked in feeble contest against the clamour of the hall, not to mention the hammers of carpenters working in an adjacent room.
"Where is this cat of yours?" asked Maximilian.
"Let's ask." They approached the bar, and Martel got the attention of the man serving drinks. "I'm here to see Kerra. She expects me."
The bartender exchanged words with a guard, who left.
"While we wait." Maximilian dropped a handful of pennies on the desk and received two mugs of ale, one of which he pushed towards Martel.
"Fine. But I can't keep doing this," the novice declared, for once daring to stare the Copper Lady straight in the eye. "I'll fight this Leatherfist, and I'll win. No matter what happens after that, with you and Tibert, it's none of my business."
"Of course." She smiled affably. "That was our agreement."
~
They walked home, Martel feeling burdened whereas drink seemed to have uplifted Maximilian. The mageknight hummed and sang a popular tune, switching between one or the other depending on when he remembered the lyrics.
"Max," Martel finally said, though he had to repeat himself before he got his friend's attention.
"Yes?"
"I think it's best you stay home from the fights. We don't want to draw attention unduly."
"And who will watch your back?" the mageknight protested.
"Well, I'm fighting alone in the ring whether you're present or not. It's nearly done, anyway."
Maximilian eyed him with suspicion. "Is this that Kerra woman's idea?"
"I was followed home the other night," Martel told him. "If I hadn't gone through the copper lanes, where Kerra's men chased him off, Tibert would know everything by now."
"Did you see the man following you? Or is that what she told you," Maximilian questioned.
"Look, I'm almost done. Two more nights, hopefully."
"I don't like this copper woman," the mageknight grumbled. "Her entire plan never seemed solid in the first place. A lot of steps for you to tread, just so she can win some money from this bald mug polisher."
"I don't care," Martel remarked wearily. "I'll do what she asks, and that'll be the end of it."
"And if she persists? If she demands another favour after this one, and another, lest she spills her mouth to the Lyceum?"
"We'll burn down her Stars-damned tavern with her inside of it."
Maximilian nodded thoughtfully. "If we are going down, we might as well do so in style."
Chapter 119: In StyleIn StyleWith all his recent troubles, and his dedication to properly learning empowerment magic, Martel had paid less attention to his elemental skills lately. He felt guilty about it, as he had done this before and been called out by Master Alastair for it, but it was unavoidable. He was meant to spend some of his spare bells practising a variety of exercises to hone his elemental magic, but those free hours were quickly devoured by fight nights and sparring with Maximilian.Still, Martel did not wish to disappoint his teacher, so he did his best to pay attention during the lesson and at least appear to be a dutiful student. Of course, that only lasted until a thought occurred to him concerning his next fight, or how much his back hurt from all his landings on the arena floor, or how hungry he felt all the time from his many physical activities.His mind was engrossed on how to sharpen his ability when raising his shield while also using magic to attack when he absently pulled on water and fire to appear between his hands. The distraction meant he did not even notice what had happened at first."Martel."His teacher's voice snapped his attention back to his surroundings. He looked at the space between his hands. Instead of flaming sparks or droplets of water, a cloud of steam hung in the air."You did it, lad."Martel looked at Master Alastair. "I did?"The balding man gave a smile. "Two elements conjured as one, creating something new. Well done."The novice grinned and used a puff of air to dissolve the steam before conjuring it again.~Martel's joy lasted until he remembered his other tasks for the day. He had postponed it yesterday; he could not delay further. As uncomfortable as the prospect made him feel, he had to go see Kerra of the copper lanes and find out what she wanted. He doubted she planned an ambush or the like, but even so, he showed her note to Maximilian and asked the mageknight to accompany him. Ever helpful, and rarely disinclined towards danger and the possibility of fighting, the young viscount agreed.Rather than cut straight through the market district, they walked west before turning south, reaching the slums without going near the harbour. While it felt a little excessive, there was no harm in taking the precaution. It did mean that they spent nearly two hours before they finally reached the establishment known as The Copper Drum.The place looked much the same as last, with people drinking and gambling at most tables. The lutes of a string were plucked in feeble contest against the clamour of the hall, not to mention the hammers of carpenters working in an adjacent room."Where is this cat of yours?" asked Maximilian."Let's ask." They approached the bar, and Martel got the attention of the man serving drinks. "I'm here to see Kerra. She expects me."The bartender exchanged words with a guard, who left."While we wait." Maximilian dropped a handful of pennies on the desk and received two mugs of ale, one of which he pushed towards Martel."Fine. But I can't keep doing this," the novice declared, for once daring to stare the Copper Lady straight in the eye. "I'll fight this Leatherfist, and I'll win. No matter what happens after that, with you and Tibert, it's none of my business.""Of course." She smiled affably. "That was our agreement."~They walked home, Martel feeling burdened whereas drink seemed to have uplifted Maximilian. The mageknight hummed and sang a popular tune, switching between one or the other depending on when he remembered the lyrics."Max," Martel finally said, though he had to repeat himself before he got his friend's attention."Yes?""I think it's best you stay home from the fights. We don't want to draw attention unduly.""And who will watch your back?" the mageknight protested."Well, I'm fighting alone in the ring whether you're present or not. It's nearly done, anyway."Maximilian eyed him with suspicion. "Is this that Kerra woman's idea?""I was followed home the other night," Martel told him. "If I hadn't gone through the copper lanes, where Kerra's men chased him off, Tibert would know everything by now.""Did you see the man following you? Or is that what she told you," Maximilian questioned."Look, I'm almost done. Two more nights, hopefully.""I don't like this copper woman," the mageknight grumbled. "Her entire plan never seemed solid in the first place. A lot of steps for you to tread, just so she can win some money from this bald mug polisher.""I don't care," Martel remarked wearily. "I'll do what she asks, and that'll be the end of it.""And if she persists? If she demands another favour after this one, and another, lest she spills her mouth to the Lyceum?""We'll burn down her Stars-damned tavern with her inside of it."Maximilian nodded thoughtfully. "If we are going down, we might as well do so in style."
