Chapter 468: As the Arrow Flies
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Chapter 468: As the Arrow Flies
As the Arrow Flies
As intended, Martel spent the full fiveday at the Lyceum. Besides class, he spent his spare hours practising his control of the lightning spell or enchantment. He was starting to feel satisfied with his results; his lightstones did not dim the slightest even after many days. Martel even considered asking Master Alastair for other useful ideas, hoping to expand his list of worthwhile enchantments.
As for the school, excitement slowly grew as harvest festival came closer with each passing day. The Lyceum itself did not mark the passing of the year in any way, content with treating every day the same. It only acknowledged such outer events like the harvest festival by letting the students have classes off during the games and spectacles. Other than that, the school did not care to celebrate even the slightest occasion. For that reason, any sort of celebration going on in the city was treated with all the more enthusiasm by the students.
This was especially true of the mageknights for this particular event; besides the interest in the general revelry soon to take place, they also practised endlessly. At least this was the case for those with intentions of participating in the contest. They already practise weaponry daily, often times twice, mornings and afternoons. Now, many of them added each evening as well. In addition, while their usual training consisted of close combat, a handful of them trained rigorously with the bow.
Passing by the arena, Martel cast an idle glance towards it, looking at the students in black tunics. He did not spot Maximilian among them – perhaps the viscount felt he trained enough – but the fire acolyte noticed Eleanor hard at work, letting arrow after arrow fly.
He stood in the entrance to the gymnasium, admiring her form for a minute before she turned her head and noticed him. "Care to join me?" She held out her bow with a teasing smile.
Martel approached until he could reach out and take the weapon. He placed one finger on the string, pulling it back slightly. It resisted. "Chances are, I'll hurt myself." He handed it back to her.
"We all have to start somewhere."
"You're participating in the archery contest, I take it."
She nodded. "And the small melee. But I am already practising swordplay during the day, so now is the only time to get better at archery."
"You're very dedicated."
Eleanor placed another arrow on the string and pulled back. After a brief moment, she released. "This festival is important to my father. His legion will put on a spectacle for the whole city. If I can win any honour on the other days, the name of our family will be on everybody's lips."
A memory stirred, from last year. Martel recalled seeing the Legio Urbis re-enact a famous battle, and Maximilian explaining something about their legate – Eleanor's father. "He used to command the Tenth, didn't he? Why is he the legate of the First Legion now?"
Eleanor had another arrow on the string, but she lowered her bow rather than pull back. She was silent long enough that Martel wondered if he had offended her before she replied. "It is complicated."
"You don't have to tell me then."
"No, I do not mind. You asked in good faith, at least."
The Master of Lore furrowed his brow. "Aye, I've seen it as well. Used by hunters in Tyria. You don't strike me as the hunting type, or are you planning to be a mageknight?"
"No, nothing of the sort. But I'll learn any rune I can."
"Well, I admire that. But I can't help you with this one. I had plenty others that I needed to learn during my time among the tribes, and I didn't commit this one to memory."
Well, it had been a long shot. "I see. Thanks anyway, master."
"Always happy to answer questions."
***
Martel did not give up yet. He knew someone else who possessed knowledge of the rune; he just did not know where to find them. But Maximilian did. Crossing the castle, Martel hurried up the stairs to the top of the boys' dormitory tower until he could knock on the door to his friend's room.
"Nordmark? What is it?" Standing in the doorway, the mageknight looked at the fire acolyte.
"Last year, you went to a skáld somewhere in the city to buy rune arrows from him."
"Do not remind me," Maximilian complained. "No need to keep bringing it up."
"Where was he? I need to speak with him."
The mageknight arched an eyebrow. "They don't allow battlemages in the archery contest."
"I'm aware. I don't want his arrow, but his knowledge of runes."
"Well, I cannot remember his location either. But I heard about him from... who was it..." Mumbling to himself, Maximilian turned back into his room and began rummaging through drawers. "He gave me... but did I keep..." More mutterings followed, indecipherable, until Maximilian pulled out a scrap of parchment with a triumphant motion. "There we are! One of the other mageknights wrote down where to find him. Consider yourself lucky that I never clean out my desk."
"I am truly blessed," Martel replied, grabbing the parchment with the location. It was too late to seek out any peddlers tonight, but tomorrow, he would go and find the knowledge he sought. "Thanks, mate."
"Buy me a drink and consider your debt repaid."
Martel grinned as he left. "Sounds reasonable."
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Chapter 468: As the Arrow Flies
As the Arrow Flies
As intended, Martel spent the full fiveday at the Lyceum. Besides class, he spent his spare hours practising his control of the lightning spell or enchantment. He was starting to feel satisfied with his results; his lightstones did not dim the slightest even after many days. Martel even considered asking Master Alastair for other useful ideas, hoping to expand his list of worthwhile enchantments.
As for the school, excitement slowly grew as harvest festival came closer with each passing day. The Lyceum itself did not mark the passing of the year in any way, content with treating every day the same. It only acknowledged such outer events like the harvest festival by letting the students have classes off during the games and spectacles. Other than that, the school did not care to celebrate even the slightest occasion. For that reason, any sort of celebration going on in the city was treated with all the more enthusiasm by the students.
This was especially true of the mageknights for this particular event; besides the interest in the general revelry soon to take place, they also practised endlessly. At least this was the case for those with intentions of participating in the contest. They already practise weaponry daily, often times twice, mornings and afternoons. Now, many of them added each evening as well. In addition, while their usual training consisted of close combat, a handful of them trained rigorously with the bow.
Passing by the arena, Martel cast an idle glance towards it, looking at the students in black tunics. He did not spot Maximilian among them – perhaps the viscount felt he trained enough – but the fire acolyte noticed Eleanor hard at work, letting arrow after arrow fly.
He stood in the entrance to the gymnasium, admiring her form for a minute before she turned her head and noticed him. "Care to join me?" She held out her bow with a teasing smile.
Martel approached until he could reach out and take the weapon. He placed one finger on the string, pulling it back slightly. It resisted. "Chances are, I'll hurt myself." He handed it back to her.
"We all have to start somewhere."
"You're participating in the archery contest, I take it."
She nodded. "And the small melee. But I am already practising swordplay during the day, so now is the only time to get better at archery."
"You're very dedicated."
Eleanor placed another arrow on the string and pulled back. After a brief moment, she released. "This festival is important to my father. His legion will put on a spectacle for the whole city. If I can win any honour on the other days, the name of our family will be on everybody's lips."
A memory stirred, from last year. Martel recalled seeing the Legio Urbis re-enact a famous battle, and Maximilian explaining something about their legate – Eleanor's father. "He used to command the Tenth, didn't he? Why is he the legate of the First Legion now?"
Eleanor had another arrow on the string, but she lowered her bow rather than pull back. She was silent long enough that Martel wondered if he had offended her before she replied. "It is complicated."
"You don't have to tell me then."
"No, I do not mind. You asked in good faith, at least."
The Master of Lore furrowed his brow. "Aye, I've seen it as well. Used by hunters in Tyria. You don't strike me as the hunting type, or are you planning to be a mageknight?"
"No, nothing of the sort. But I'll learn any rune I can."
"Well, I admire that. But I can't help you with this one. I had plenty others that I needed to learn during my time among the tribes, and I didn't commit this one to memory."
Well, it had been a long shot. "I see. Thanks anyway, master."
"Always happy to answer questions."
***
Martel did not give up yet. He knew someone else who possessed knowledge of the rune; he just did not know where to find them. But Maximilian did. Crossing the castle, Martel hurried up the stairs to the top of the boys' dormitory tower until he could knock on the door to his friend's room.
"Nordmark? What is it?" Standing in the doorway, the mageknight looked at the fire acolyte.
"Last year, you went to a skáld somewhere in the city to buy rune arrows from him."
"Do not remind me," Maximilian complained. "No need to keep bringing it up."
"Where was he? I need to speak with him."
The mageknight arched an eyebrow. "They don't allow battlemages in the archery contest."
"I'm aware. I don't want his arrow, but his knowledge of runes."
"Well, I cannot remember his location either. But I heard about him from... who was it..." Mumbling to himself, Maximilian turned back into his room and began rummaging through drawers. "He gave me... but did I keep..." More mutterings followed, indecipherable, until Maximilian pulled out a scrap of parchment with a triumphant motion. "There we are! One of the other mageknights wrote down where to find him. Consider yourself lucky that I never clean out my desk."
"I am truly blessed," Martel replied, grabbing the parchment with the location. It was too late to seek out any peddlers tonight, but tomorrow, he would go and find the knowledge he sought. "Thanks, mate."
"Buy me a drink and consider your debt repaid."
Martel grinned as he left. "Sounds reasonable."
Chapter 468: As the Arrow FliesAs the Arrow FliesAs intended, Martel spent the full fiveday at the Lyceum. Besides class, he spent his spare hours practising his control of the lightning spell or enchantment. He was starting to feel satisfied with his results; his lightstones did not dim the slightest even after many days. Martel even considered asking Master Alastair for other useful ideas, hoping to expand his list of worthwhile enchantments.As for the school, excitement slowly grew as harvest festival came closer with each passing day. The Lyceum itself did not mark the passing of the year in any way, content with treating every day the same. It only acknowledged such outer events like the harvest festival by letting the students have classes off during the games and spectacles. Other than that, the school did not care to celebrate even the slightest occasion. For that reason, any sort of celebration going on in the city was treated with all the more enthusiasm by the students.This was especially true of the mageknights for this particular event; besides the interest in the general revelry soon to take place, they also practised endlessly. At least this was the case for those with intentions of participating in the contest. They already practise weaponry daily, often times twice, mornings and afternoons. Now, many of them added each evening as well. In addition, while their usual training consisted of close combat, a handful of them trained rigorously with the bow.Passing by the arena, Martel cast an idle glance towards it, looking at the students in black tunics. He did not spot Maximilian among them perhaps the viscount felt he trained enough but the fire acolyte noticed Eleanor hard at work, letting arrow after arrow fly.He stood in the entrance to the gymnasium, admiring her form for a minute before she turned her head and noticed him. "Care to join me?" She held out her bow with a teasing smile.Martel approached until he could reach out and take the weapon. He placed one finger on the string, pulling it back slightly. It resisted. "Chances are, I'll hurt myself." He handed it back to her."We all have to start somewhere.""You're participating in the archery contest, I take it."She nodded. "And the small melee. But I am already practising swordplay during the day, so now is the only time to get better at archery.""You're very dedicated."Eleanor placed another arrow on the string and pulled back. After a brief moment, she released. "This festival is important to my father. His legion will put on a spectacle for the whole city. If I can win any honour on the other days, the name of our family will be on everybody's lips."A memory stirred, from last year. Martel recalled seeing the Legio Urbis re-enact a famous battle, and Maximilian explaining something about their legate Eleanor's father. "He used to command the Tenth, didn't he? Why is he the legate of the First Legion now?"Eleanor had another arrow on the string, but she lowered her bow rather than pull back. She was silent long enough that Martel wondered if he had offended her before she replied. "It is complicated.""You don't have to tell me then.""No, I do not mind. You asked in good faith, at least."The Master of Lore furrowed his brow. "Aye, I've seen it as well. Used by hunters in Tyria. You don't strike me as the hunting type, or are you planning to be a mageknight?""No, nothing of the sort. But I'll learn any rune I can.""Well, I admire that. But I can't help you with this one. I had plenty others that I needed to learn during my time among the tribes, and I didn't commit this one to memory."Well, it had been a long shot. "I see. Thanks anyway, master.""Always happy to answer questions."***Martel did not give up yet. He knew someone else who possessed knowledge of the rune; he just did not know where to find them. But Maximilian did. Crossing the castle, Martel hurried up the stairs to the top of the boys' dormitory tower until he could knock on the door to his friend's room."Nordmark? What is it?" Standing in the doorway, the mageknight looked at the fire acolyte."Last year, you went to a skald somewhere in the city to buy rune arrows from him.""Do not remind me," Maximilian complained. "No need to keep bringing it up.""Where was he? I need to speak with him."The mageknight arched an eyebrow. "They don't allow battlemages in the archery contest.""I'm aware. I don't want his arrow, but his knowledge of runes.""Well, I cannot remember his location either. But I heard about him from... who was it..." Mumbling to himself, Maximilian turned back into his room and began rummaging through drawers. "He gave me... but did I keep..." More mutterings followed, indecipherable, until Maximilian pulled out a scrap of parchment with a triumphant motion. "There we are! One of the other mageknights wrote down where to find him. Consider yourself lucky that I never clean out my desk.""I am truly blessed," Martel replied, grabbing the parchment with the location. It was too late to seek out any peddlers tonight, but tomorrow, he would go and find the knowledge he sought. "Thanks, mate.""Buy me a drink and consider your debt repaid."Martel grinned as he left. "Sounds reasonable."
