Firebrand

Chapter 445: Hot Air

Hot Air

With his shoulder returned to normal, more or less, Martel no longer held back during training in the Circle of Fire. He used his staff to its full potential, whether as an amplifier for his magic or as a blunt weapon. He handily beat both Edward and Harriet; while reasonably skilled with spellwork, neither of them had ever really felt comfortable with a staff in their hands, and they used it solely to channel magic while fighting, leaving themselves vulnerable to physical attacks.

William, although perhaps less gifted as a spellcaster than Harriet, better understood the advantage of flexibility; when up against Martel, it was even a necessity. He could hold his own in terms of physical combat and find openings to release a fire bolt against Martel with varying success. Combined with Moira occasionally shooting off her own spells to make their fights unpredictable, Martel was sometimes hard pressed.

Finding himself in such a situation, Martel resorted to the same move as earlier this fiveday, now that he knew Moira would not punish him for it. A blast of air caught William in a bad position, and Martel followed up with a swift strike of his staff to send the other acolyte tumbling to the ground.

William got back on his feet with angry movements, picking up his staff. "You're always going to do that when in a tight spot, aren't you?"

"Probably," Martel admitted. He had no reason to refrain.

"Some people got all the luck," the other acolyte mumbled.

For a moment, Martel felt insulted. He had worked hard to develop his skills, and not just for combat. Hours spent every morning doing alchemy, and entire bells dedicated to learning enchantment.

Of course, Martel only had such time to spare because he was fire-touched, learning these spells much faster than the others. And Master Alastair had helped him in two ways. First by teaching Martel the other elemental arts, allowing him to develop those skills rather than focusing entirely on fire; next, he had continued to teach Martel powerful and complex spells that the other acolytes would not learn.

Martel did not feel lucky, given his circumstances, but he might admit that others had even worse luck than him. "Would you like to learn?" he blurted out.

William turned his head sharply. "Learn what?"

"Air magic. How to make a blast that'll push someone to the ground."

"What, you're offering lessons?"

It could only be easier than his attempts at teaching Sparrow. "We can meet one bell a fiveday."

The other acolyte regarded him with narrow eyes. "Alright," he finally said. "When?"

"You don't have anything on Soldays, do you?"

"Just my chores in the workshops. Fifth bell."

"How about third bell? We meet here. The Circle should be empty."

William continued to look at him with an expression that was hard to read. "Sure. Third bell."

***

Sitting at his desk, Martel picked up a quill and began writing.

Dear mum,

That's wonderful news about Keith. It is strange to imagine him both a husband and a father, though I suppose it was going to happen sooner or later. Being married to a smith is not a bad prospect, after all. Not many metalworkers that young who already have their own forge too. Even if Engby is a small town, it's still a promise of constant work. Plenty to keep a single smith busy, at any rate.

I will not be able to make it home for the festivities. Even if my studies are going well, I still have to be diligent. My graduation is in about four months or so, and I need to finish learning everything before then. I am not sure when I will be able to visit afterwards. I have talked a bit with my friend Eleanor about life in the legions, and she has assured me that legionaries, even mages, are allowed leave from time to time. Usually in winter when little happens anyway, and they'll want less mouths to feed in camp.

Of course, those newly arrived don't get leave straight away, so it will probably be a year or two before I'm allowed to go. Which means that my nephew or niece will be walking around by then. You could even teach him or her to say my name before they meet me for the first time! In fact, the more I think about it, the better this seems to me. Babies are not interesting the first few months. All they do is sleep and eat, after all.

I will enclose a silver letter with this, with as much money as I have to spare. It'll be my wedding gift to Keith and this Clara. I leave it to you to tell them and present the gift the best way. I'm sure they will have something useful to spend the coin on. It might be wise to save some of it, since once I leave Morcaster, I might not be able to send more easily. It will take a lot longer time for letters to reach me and return, so if you end up needing money urgently, it's best you have some saved up.

Otherwise, things are great here. The harvest games next month should be fun. I don't know if my friends will compete, but since they did last year, I assume so.

And I know you'll be thinking it, but I'm not ignoring your question. No, I have made no liaisons with anyone here in the same manner as Keith has. I'm far too busy with my studies to even contemplate that, and since I'm leaving Morcaster in some months, it would be pointless anyway.

Martel

He finished the letter and chuckled at the thought of Father Julius explaining to his mother what 'liaison' meant. Normally, he would not intentionally write in more complex language than he spoke, or which he knew would make his mother scratch her head, but if she was going to ask such questions of him, she deserved a little cheek.

He looked over the words again. Since his mother had studiously avoided any mention of his future as a battlemage, Martel wondered if she would be upset by him referring to it. But it could not be avoided; it was impossible to explain his situation or plan for the future without admitting what that future contained. She would just have to get used to the thought the same way he had.