Chapter Eighty-eight: Foreboding News (Part Two)
Her shining eyes reminded Alistar of when Caedmon had first taken him in, back when he had only ever eaten the porridge that they served in Crystellum, along with the apples, stale breads and moldy cheeses that Servan had made a habit of sneaking to him and Kaila on a planned schedule.
With this in mind, he began to eat his own meal with appreciative gusto. Nowadays, he required a lot more food to fuel his stamina, which was almost completely drained multiple times on a given day.
“Are you okay, Anice?” asked Stason towards the end of the meal. “Meaning no offence, but you look like you have a fever.”
“Yes…I must have one.”
Anice glanced at Alistar, who had been striving throughout much of his lunch to subdue the memories from earlier in the morning. As the two connected eyes, she forcibly downed the rest of her milk so quickly that she fell into a fit of coughing.
“Pace yourself, Anne,” frowned Lessa, who began patting her on the back to help even out her breaths.
Alistar maintained a subconscious meditative state and looked down at his plate. He knew that if he looked her in the eye again, his calmness would melt away like the butter he was spreading on the toasted bread before him.
Blast it, Anne.
He thought about having a lock installed on the door to his bedroom, since she had a habit of allowing herself whenever she was seeking him out. Thinking of the spot in his dresser where he usually hid his locket and also thinking about his cousin’s nosiness, he was even more dead set on doing so.
“Thanks for lunch!”
Anice stood up as soon as she recovered, grabbing Lessa’s arm and dragging the confused girl after her as she left the hall from the eastern doorway.
The women all exchanged subtle glances while Stason happily helped himself to another serving of food. Not wanting to be the subject of any curious questions, Alistar polished off what was left on his plate and then gathered up his dishes and utensils. After thanking Madeline and Janine for setting the table and bringing out all of the food and drinks, he brought his dishes to the kitchens, where he thanked the cooks for the delicious meal and told them that he couldn’t wait for dinner. As he did on most days, he washed and dried his own dishes before storing them away in their proper places.
Now, what to do? Since it was Sunday, he didn’t have any lessons with his teachers. Should I go riding?
Looking outside of a hallway window at the gloomy weather that surrounded the stables, he thought against it. There was no point in soiling fresh clothes after just changing into them. He contemplated visiting the collegia to check in on his uncle or to otherwise pester Tramon into teaching him a new technique, but decided that today should be spent with his friends. First, he would visit Mr. Herst and then he would seek out any of the Dozen that happened to be free.
Come to think of it, Corrie wanted that old journal.
He stopped by the library to pick up a book that his quiet friend had shown great interest in the last time that he had come over for a visit, an old compilation of notes from a famous thief that had been hanged in the capital a few decades earlier. Alistar had read some of it, but the writing was too messy for his liking, the grammar too garbled. In his opinion, if the author had been anything it was illiterate.
Alistar left the estate, making sure to bring Rayson and Harold some snacks wrapped up in a large cloth, much to their delight. Although it was an early April afternoon, the day had a chill to it that was more characteristic of a cold winter night, and it was on days like these that he tried uplift the chill-bitten guards with small gestures such as this.
Many of the oak trees that lined the pathway that connected the estate to Mayhaven had already grown lovely coats of fledgling leaves, though the dullness of the overcast day stole away much of their vigour. Alistar wondered if there would be anyone selling sweets in the market square, which on Sundays was usually a motley scattering of people that couldn’t afford to remain home on the holy day. Just when he was deciding on what sort of snack he would bring with him to Mr. Herst’s, he noticed a familiar aura off in the distance, far enough that its owner was blocked from view by the large hill that Alistar was currently rounding.
“Hey there,” called Alder once they were only separated by a few dozen paces. “Are you off to see your friends?” He wore a thick grey coat over a similarly coloured tunic and stylish black pants with silver trimming at the hems of each leg.
“I am. Were you just with my uncle, by any chance?”
The man’s expression stiffened slightly. “Ah, I was. Actually, he asked me to pass along a message to everyone back at the estate. He just learned something that he feels should be made known at home, but he won’t be returning until later tonight.”
“What is it?”
Alder was a confident and capable man, so it was odd to see traces of uneasiness in his expression.
“A messenger arrived at the collegia about an hour ago, apparently having followed Caedmon there from the cathedral. As it turned out, he was sent by your eldest uncle to inform Caedmon that he and your uncle Daniel will be arriving in Distan in three months’ time.”
Antoine Vern Silverkin, the duke of Vern, and Daniel Calis Silverkin, the duke of Calis. These were the two most powerful men in the kingdom after King Glenden, with as much authority as the archbishop that the church had assigned to oversee all of Civus’s religious matters. They were also the object of many stories from Caedmon’s boyhood that had left Alistar with an increasingly bad impression of them.
He frowned. “Why couldn’t Uncle just tell everyone tomorrow?”
“He thought it best that you hear of this immediately. You, and Mr. Albeck.”
“Me and my teacher?”
“Yes.” Alder put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, if anything you’ll be happy to hear the reason. Starting tomorrow, your teacher will have no choice but to teach you an advanced magic spell in preparation for the arrival of the dukes and their sons.”
“My cousins are coming too?” His impressions of the other Silverkin boys were just as low as those of his uncles, so he had been subconsciously hoping that he would never have to meet them.
“Some of them, yes. But I must be going now, for I have to inform dear old Jin to change up his lesson plan.”
Knowing Mr. Albeck, he would be very annoyed by this. He was the sort of person that planned out everything that he did, down to what time he took his meals and when it best fit his schedule for him to relieve himself in the privy.
Setting aside the anxiety of meeting with the other Silverkins, Alistar grabbed at the sleeve of Alder’s coat to stop him from leaving. “Wait! Can you tell me what spell I’m going to be learning?”
Seeing the excited look in his eyes, Alder made to say something but then thought better of it. “It’s more interesting to leave it as a surprise, so I’ll let your teacher tell you.”
“Can you give me a hint?”
“On you go now, Alistar,” laughed the man. “I’m sure your friends are waiting for you.”
The chamberlain left it at that and hurried off down the pathway, leaving Alistar wondering what sort of advanced magic he was set to learn and why the visit from his relatives necessitated such a drastic jump in the difficulties of his studies. It was important to note that only talented mages or full-fledged magi were able to use advanced magic, while Alistar was still just a simple apprentice.
He parted ways with Alder, a resolute smile on his lips as he began to look forward to the following day. At long last the child’s play had come to an end and the time had finally come for him to move on from the everyday household magics that he’d been studying up until now.
Forgetting his anxiety in regards to his relatives, he hurried on with boiling excitement and high expectations. All throughout his walk to the market square and even after that as he made his way over to Mr. Herst’s place, he couldn’t stop wondering what sort of spell he was set to learn.
Chapter Eighty-eight: Foreboding News (Part Two)
Her shining eyes reminded Alistar of when Caedmon had first taken him in, back when he had only ever eaten the porridge that they served in Crystellum, along with the apples, stale breads and moldy cheeses that Servan had made a habit of sneaking to him and Kaila on a planned schedule.
With this in mind, he began to eat his own meal with appreciative gusto. Nowadays, he required a lot more food to fuel his stamina, which was almost completely drained multiple times on a given day.
“Are you okay, Anice?” asked Stason towards the end of the meal. “Meaning no offence, but you look like you have a fever.”
“Yes…I must have one.”
Anice glanced at Alistar, who had been striving throughout much of his lunch to subdue the memories from earlier in the morning. As the two connected eyes, she forcibly downed the rest of her milk so quickly that she fell into a fit of coughing.
“Pace yourself, Anne,” frowned Lessa, who began patting her on the back to help even out her breaths.
Alistar maintained a subconscious meditative state and looked down at his plate. He knew that if he looked her in the eye again, his calmness would melt away like the butter he was spreading on the toasted bread before him.
Blast it, Anne.
He thought about having a lock installed on the door to his bedroom, since she had a habit of allowing herself whenever she was seeking him out. Thinking of the spot in his dresser where he usually hid his locket and also thinking about his cousin’s nosiness, he was even more dead set on doing so.
“Thanks for lunch!”
Anice stood up as soon as she recovered, grabbing Lessa’s arm and dragging the confused girl after her as she left the hall from the eastern doorway.
The women all exchanged subtle glances while Stason happily helped himself to another serving of food. Not wanting to be the subject of any curious questions, Alistar polished off what was left on his plate and then gathered up his dishes and utensils. After thanking Madeline and Janine for setting the table and bringing out all of the food and drinks, he brought his dishes to the kitchens, where he thanked the cooks for the delicious meal and told them that he couldn’t wait for dinner. As he did on most days, he washed and dried his own dishes before storing them away in their proper places.
Now, what to do? Since it was Sunday, he didn’t have any lessons with his teachers. Should I go riding?
Looking outside of a hallway window at the gloomy weather that surrounded the stables, he thought against it. There was no point in soiling fresh clothes after just changing into them. He contemplated visiting the collegia to check in on his uncle or to otherwise pester Tramon into teaching him a new technique, but decided that today should be spent with his friends. First, he would visit Mr. Herst and then he would seek out any of the Dozen that happened to be free.
Come to think of it, Corrie wanted that old journal.
He stopped by the library to pick up a book that his quiet friend had shown great interest in the last time that he had come over for a visit, an old compilation of notes from a famous thief that had been hanged in the capital a few decades earlier. Alistar had read some of it, but the writing was too messy for his liking, the grammar too garbled. In his opinion, if the author had been anything it was illiterate.
Alistar left the estate, making sure to bring Rayson and Harold some snacks wrapped up in a large cloth, much to their delight. Although it was an early April afternoon, the day had a chill to it that was more characteristic of a cold winter night, and it was on days like these that he tried uplift the chill-bitten guards with small gestures such as this.
Many of the oak trees that lined the pathway that connected the estate to Mayhaven had already grown lovely coats of fledgling leaves, though the dullness of the overcast day stole away much of their vigour. Alistar wondered if there would be anyone selling sweets in the market square, which on Sundays was usually a motley scattering of people that couldn’t afford to remain home on the holy day. Just when he was deciding on what sort of snack he would bring with him to Mr. Herst’s, he noticed a familiar aura off in the distance, far enough that its owner was blocked from view by the large hill that Alistar was currently rounding.
“Hey there,” called Alder once they were only separated by a few dozen paces. “Are you off to see your friends?” He wore a thick grey coat over a similarly coloured tunic and stylish black pants with silver trimming at the hems of each leg.
“I am. Were you just with my uncle, by any chance?”
The man’s expression stiffened slightly. “Ah, I was. Actually, he asked me to pass along a message to everyone back at the estate. He just learned something that he feels should be made known at home, but he won’t be returning until later tonight.”
“What is it?”
Alder was a confident and capable man, so it was odd to see traces of uneasiness in his expression.
“A messenger arrived at the collegia about an hour ago, apparently having followed Caedmon there from the cathedral. As it turned out, he was sent by your eldest uncle to inform Caedmon that he and your uncle Daniel will be arriving in Distan in three months’ time.”
Antoine Vern Silverkin, the duke of Vern, and Daniel Calis Silverkin, the duke of Calis. These were the two most powerful men in the kingdom after King Glenden, with as much authority as the archbishop that the church had assigned to oversee all of Civus’s religious matters. They were also the object of many stories from Caedmon’s boyhood that had left Alistar with an increasingly bad impression of them.
He frowned. “Why couldn’t Uncle just tell everyone tomorrow?”
“He thought it best that you hear of this immediately. You, and Mr. Albeck.”
“Me and my teacher?”
“Yes.” Alder put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, if anything you’ll be happy to hear the reason. Starting tomorrow, your teacher will have no choice but to teach you an advanced magic spell in preparation for the arrival of the dukes and their sons.”
“My cousins are coming too?” His impressions of the other Silverkin boys were just as low as those of his uncles, so he had been subconsciously hoping that he would never have to meet them.
“Some of them, yes. But I must be going now, for I have to inform dear old Jin to change up his lesson plan.”
Knowing Mr. Albeck, he would be very annoyed by this. He was the sort of person that planned out everything that he did, down to what time he took his meals and when it best fit his schedule for him to relieve himself in the privy.
Setting aside the anxiety of meeting with the other Silverkins, Alistar grabbed at the sleeve of Alder’s coat to stop him from leaving. “Wait! Can you tell me what spell I’m going to be learning?”
Seeing the excited look in his eyes, Alder made to say something but then thought better of it. “It’s more interesting to leave it as a surprise, so I’ll let your teacher tell you.”
“Can you give me a hint?”
“On you go now, Alistar,” laughed the man. “I’m sure your friends are waiting for you.”
The chamberlain left it at that and hurried off down the pathway, leaving Alistar wondering what sort of advanced magic he was set to learn and why the visit from his relatives necessitated such a drastic jump in the difficulties of his studies. It was important to note that only talented mages or full-fledged magi were able to use advanced magic, while Alistar was still just a simple apprentice.
He parted ways with Alder, a resolute smile on his lips as he began to look forward to the following day. At long last the child’s play had come to an end and the time had finally come for him to move on from the everyday household magics that he’d been studying up until now.
Forgetting his anxiety in regards to his relatives, he hurried on with boiling excitement and high expectations. All throughout his walk to the market square and even after that as he made his way over to Mr. Herst’s place, he couldn’t stop wondering what sort of spell he was set to learn.
