Quill

515. Loyalty

The next day, as third bell approached, Martel walked towards the fortress of Saint Marcellus. It did not lie far from the Lyceum, but being in the north-western palace district, Martel had never been there before. He had driven past it a few times when going to the Imperial palace, and on occasion noticed its towers in the distance when walking through the merchant quarter; that was the extent of his knowledge, other than it served as the headquarters for the First Legion in its capacity as ...

514. The Final Letter

For a few days, Martel lived in the frail hope that Mistress Juliana had been misinformed. After all, he was a battlemage; too rare and valuable to be thrown away because of a personal vendetta. Sending Martel to the Tenth would be a waste of his powerful skills; the same went for whichever hapless mageknight was chosen to be Martel's protector and sent to meet the same fate. It was hard to believe that the Imperial administration would tolerate such waste. And yet, it was harder to believe t...

513. X

The routine of previous fivedays returned for Martel. No further sign nor word of Atreus reached him or his friends. When they got together, they did not speak of their sojourn to the catacombs; it seemed too strange an event that it could be discussed in the familiar, almost mundane surroundings above ground. Not that Martel saw much of either; Maximilian was busy being introduced and prepared as necessary for joining the Imperial court, and Eleanor spent her time with her family, now restor...

512. Sleep Unending

Martel went to the baths, as did Maximilian; neither of them spoke as they soaked in the hot water. Other students appeared, washing away last night's sleep while chatting merrily. As for the battlemage and mageknight, they left soon after, walking up the dormitory tower quietly. "Goodnight," Martel mumbled, reaching his floor. Maximilian made some brusque noise in response, continuing further up. Soon after, Martel was fast asleep.

***

When he woke up in darkness, Martel struggle...

511. A Healthy Suggestion

Martel stared down upon the maleficar's body. He had expected to feel some kind of vindication, but in truth, he just felt tired. Maybe because the woman on the ground looked nothing like Julia; in terms of appearance, she was a stranger. Furthermore, her body was rapidly decaying; years of rot took place before his very eyes.

"Three centuries are catching up," Atreus remarked. He knelt down next to her. "When my time comes, I suppose I shall look the same."

"How did you do this?"...

510. Broken Resistance

Despite his decision, Martel knew he could not hope to intervene in the battle of spells between Atreus and the maleficar. Their magic was far beyond his, even if he had any of his spellpower left. But he had to do something.

To one side of him, Eleanor desperately averted Maximilian's blows without retaliation; to the other, the spellbreaker and maleficar continued their struggle. Picking up the bronze mace from the ground, Martel crept forward.

One blow to the back of her head; ...

509. Friend and Foe

Either the undead king had determined Martel to be the easiest foe to kill, or else he held particular wrath for those using fire against his servants; regardless, he ran with surprising speed across the hall straight at the battlemage. His hand held the bronze mace ready for a crushing strike.

Controlling his fear, Martel released a lightning bolt. The magical energy crackled as it left his fingertips, surging forward to strike the undead creature. It tore through the fabric of his rob...

508. A Royal Burial

Atreus made a gesture for the others to remain back before he crossed the threshold to enter the great chamber. It was clearly a major burial place within the catacombs, easily measuring fifty feet or more across. Walking along the wall as he kept to the shadows, Atreus crept forward.

"No need to skulk about, my love. You tripped my glyph of warning when you first entered the catacombs." The maleficar raised her head and stood up. "I am sure it will come to blows between us, but I shoul...

507. On the Threshold

Moving through the sewers alongside the small stream of fetid water, they had to walk like pearls on a string. Atreus had taken the lead with Martel second, Eleanor third, and Maximilian bringing up the rear.

"What if she's not in the catacombs?" Martel asked, voicing the fear that had plagued him ever since they stepped into the sewers. He had made the claim that she would seek refuge in the catacombs; if they wasted their time down here while she hid elsewhere, allowing her to make he...

506. An Eagle in Hand

At length, they fetched food and water for Atreus and left him to sleep atop the astronomy tower, where none would go; while cold and uncomfortable, he was used to far worse. As for Martel's revelation, the spellbreaker agreed that Julia – Elena would be likely to retreat to such a place as the catacombs and recover her strength, as he had done to the Lyceum. Once Atreus had rested, he would go immediately to hunt for her in that place, hoping to catch her before she might escape to elsewhe...

505. The Spellbreaker's Tale

Leaving the western courtyard, the three young wizards and their guest made their way up the astronomy tower, going to the classroom near the top. As they settled down on chairs or tables around Atreus, he took a deep breath and began to speak.

"I trained as a spellbreaker. My brethren and I, we were taught how to combat maleficars and all the evil creatures they might conjure." He caught himself, shaking his head. "No, that is the wrong place to start." He cleared his throat and began ...

504. Spell-broken

For a moment, none of the young wizards spoke nor moved. They all gazed at the older mage with varying emotions written on their face.

"Atreus?" Martel stammered. "The Spellbreaker?"

"Is that a common name and epithet among your people?" Maximilian asked.

"You said you were cursed," Eleanor added.

Seemingly oblivious to the questions directed at him, whether through words or expressions, the man claiming to be Atreus glanced around at the narrow alleyway. "If this is A...

503. Rising Smoke

Eleanor was wrong; the man convulsing before their feet was not a shapeshifter, cursed to transform into some manner of smoke creature. Watching the fell monster fly towards him, Martel dearly wished she had been right.

Swiftly, he pulled out his golden dagger and tossed it to Eleanor. It was the only physical weapon they had between the three of them that stood any chance of hurting the creature. Displaying no signs of fear, only determination, the two mageknights took position next to...

502. A Rune in Hand

For the third time today, Martel left the Lyceum. Stepping across the threshold and leaving its protective wards, he felt a lot more apprehensive than on the previous two occasions. He let his left hand gently tap the pockets on his belt, just to remind himself of the contents; three fire jars on one side, the healing elixir from Mistress Rana on the other. He had placed his gold-edged dagger into his belt as well, and he was brimming with spellpower if it came to a fight.

Not that he e...

501. Almond Bread

The following morning, Martel spent some hours practising his enchantment. No matter where he ended up, even simple things like light and heat might be luxuries; the stronger he could make such enchantments, the better.

During the third bell, he felt early pangs of hunger, but dinner was still a while away. As he still had a good amount of coin left from what Mistress Rana had paid him, he decided to reward himself with a few pastries from one of the vendors that crowded the square outs...

500. Looking for Questions

From long hours doing alchemy, interspersed only with classes at the Lyceum, Martel's routines changed entirely. He had no chores or obligations anymore other than to wait for his graduation day and the missive from the Imperial administration.

He found ways to keep himself busy as best he could. He could never practise enchanting too much, even if progress seemed to come slower and slower. He returned to the warehouse and helped Mistress Rana with a few minor tasks, quickly done; the p...

499. Sullied

The assailant had been standing up against the wall by the doorway, waiting for Martel; as soon as the wizard stepped inside, he attacked. Sensing the movement, Martel dodged to his right. He slammed into the wall on that side, but avoided the dagger.

Seeing a golden glint upon its edge, Martel guessed that he faced an opponent protected by gold like the archer. Direct spells would not work, but his staff was a superior weapon to a short blade, even if his opponent was a mageknight. Cha...

498. Examinations

Martel spent the next day attending his last classes before the examination. Nothing about it suggested anything out of the ordinary; they practised improving the range of their magic under Moira's disdainful gaze. If she had any further wisdom to share with her students or final advice for them, she did not share it. As the lesson ended, she marched away, and the four acolytes scattered, for now.

On the following morning, they gathered in the entrance hall at second bell. They watched ...

497. One in the Belt

After a short night's sleep, Martel worked for about three bells, producing three potions, before he sat down at the one table reserved for food rather than work. He always missed the hot meals at the Lyceum whenever he ate at the warehouse; the building was not meant for habitation, and the big doors allowed plenty of cold to enter from the outside, struggling against the warmth created by the fireplaces that they used for their alchemy. The apothecaries had it even worse, as their work did ...

496. A Potion in Hand

The following day, Martel was back at the Lyceum, attending class. As before, the other students kept their distance to him, but since he had no interest in talking to them, Martel did not care. Before too long, he would never have to see these people again.

Moira arrived, but uncharacteristically, she did not immediately yell for them to begin practising. Instead, she spoke almost at a normal volume. "On Manday, you will have your acolyte's examination. You must all appear in the entra...

495. Amaranth

Returning to his routines at the warehouse, Martel placed the runestone in an inner pocket and forgot about it; instead, he resumed his duties as alchemist and student. Several fivedays passed in the usual blur, creating potion after potion or practising the range of his magic back at the Lyceum.

Though eventually, Martel noticed a change of pace. After a month and a half since the beginning of the pestilence, work in the warehouse became less hectic as they occasionally ran out of reag...

494. A Stone in Hand

After a few more days, Martel's isolation was at an end, and he could return to the warehouse. The content of his hours did not change greatly, only his surroundings; he continued the endlessly repetitive task of brewing potions, one at a time. By now, he knew the recipe by heart and could complete the process with closed eyes. In the first days of the pestilence, the work had invaded his dreams as well; visions of bubbling cauldrons and never ending stacks of ingredients to be prepared haunt...

493. A Visit from Affection

If working in the warehouse had felt monotonous to the point of tedium, staying isolated in the small house seemed a double dose. It was basically just a big room with a fireplace, a chair and a worktable, and a mattress with two blankets in the corner.

His sole escape from the four walls surrounding him was a window allowing the room to be aired out more effectively than just through the chimney, but he was only allowed to open the shutters at night when the street outside would be emp...

492. Wizard's Work

Another ten days passed without any sign that the pestilence would abate. Mistress Rana returned from isolation, confirming that her helpers had done right in her absence to refuse relinquishing any of the elixirs they had made; as for the household guards, they did not return nor make any claims or complaints. Possibly, the guard outside the warehouse helped dissuade further attempts.

After a brief conversation with the legionary on duty, upon her return to the warehouse, Mistress Rana...

491. Noble Privilege

Martel's regular routine of doing only alchemy and sleeping resumed, interspersed with his occasional return to the Lyceum for class. He and Nora worked mostly in silence; even the talkative apprentice seemed to have run out of conversational topics, or perhaps weariness had left its mark on her as well.

In general, the only sounds in the warehouse came from tools chopping or grinding ingredients, the subdued crackling of flames from the few fireplaces in use, the bubbling of potions br...

490. The Seed of Leadership

The days passed, seemingly without change. The quarantine continued with no sign of the disease lessening its grip upon the copper lanes; in the warehouse near the district, the apothecaries and alchemists toiled all waking hours, sometimes at night as well.

After one such late night, Martel slept soundly even after the sun rose in the morning. He only woke from the sound of terrible commotion that likewise drew the attention of everybody else in the warehouse. Many of them ran outside ...

489. The Eagle Flies Alone

Martel felt confused briefly when he woke up until the familiar surroundings of his room at the Lyceum asserted themselves. Minimal sleep and the change of bed from the warehouse to his school had thrown him off until he remembered why he was back. He had classes today in fire magic, which he would attend per his agreement with Mistress Juliana.

After eating breakfast at an empty table, savouring the hot porridge, Martel went to the western courtyard for his lesson. The statue of Atreus...

488. Copper Lock

Martel did not feel particularly rested when he woke up the next morning. While his mattress was fine, the warehouse was cold, and his blanket could not shield him sufficiently. He would have lit a fire, but any fuel had to be reserved for the alchemy.

Therefore dreary-eyed, Martel got up and saw that Mistress Rana had already risen and returned to work; Nora lay nearby, still asleep. Their improvised beds, consisting of cloth stuffed with hay, lay scattered around the corner, where the...

487. Rolling up Sleeves

A fiveday after the quarantine began, Martel made his way through the city with a great bundle on his back. The mood felt subdued on the streets, even if the pestilence had been contained to the copper lanes; perhaps it was merely the effect of winter suppressing trade and traffic, but it felt to Martel as if the city lay dormant, or perhaps holding its breath.

Martel walked straight south until he had passed halfway through the harbour district before turning right. Soon after, he coul...

486. An Intellectual Debate

Once Martel woke up, he wasted little time. As soon as he could grab food from the kitchens, he took a plate with him to Mistress Rana's laboratory. He found the alchemist asleep and Nora at work; the latter greeted him with a tired nod and worn expression.

"Have you already eaten?" he asked quietly. He could not imagine how she had been faster than him.

"No, I woke up a while back, before the bell rang. So I went here and got started. I'll eat when this potion is done." The cauld...