Recipe for Trouble

Martel ended up spending most of his free bell that same afternoon with Shadi, falling back into the easy ways of their friendship. He took her to the statue of Atreus in the western courtyard and the arena in the eastern, recounting his duel with Cheval to her great amusement. When she left the Lyceum with her father, he already looked forward to seeing her again on Solday.

But it would be a while before they reached the end of the fiveday. Waking up on Glunday, Martel went to the Hall of Elements for his first lesson in the more advanced types of magic.

Master Alastair greeted him cordially as always. "Ready to do more than move a few drops of water around?"

"Definitely!"

"That's the spirit, lad. Now, combining the elements for more advanced results isn't as hard as you might think," his teacher began to explain while Martel dutifully listened. "As long as you got the requisite basic skills, it's really just a question of imagination and a bit of practice."

As he had done when first introducing the topic, Master Alastair made a cloud of steam appear between his hands.

"I know fire, and I know water. I simply make them both appear at the same time."

Like last, Martel could not help but push the steam into his teacher's face. However, his attempt was immediately rebuffed by a far more powerful gust, turning his trick back on him. Master Alastair laughed seeing the surprise on the novice's face, and after a moment, Martel joined in.

The air blowing into his face made the novice think of something else. "Master Alastair, why is it that magic can't directly affect someone? If I want to push someone back, I have to use air to do it. I can't just grab them with magic the way I can move a rock."

"Master Fenrick could explain in better detail, but I believe it's a limit to our form of magic. Besides the body, a human consists of mind and soul, which our spells cannot touch. You can only use physical magic on the purely physical. Believe me, I've tried setting people directly on fire, and it never worked." He smiled wryly.

"I see." Perhaps for the best; the thought of another mage being able to affect Martel's mind made a shiver run down his spine.

"Alright, enough delay. Think of steam, lad. Imagine it forming in the air between your hands, like your breath on a cold morning. Focus, and it'll come to you."

Raising his hands in front of him, Martel focused.

~

"Are you still working in the apothecary?"

Martel looked up from his meal at Eleanor's question. She usually took her meals with the other girls of her age, but she had joined him for lunch today. "Yeah, for about three months now. Longer, even. Why?"

She pulled out a sheet of parchment from her tunic, unfolded it, and handed it over. "I found this recipe for an elixir in the library."

"The library has books on alchemy?" interjected Martel. He felt foolish as he asked the question. Of course it would have books on the topic. It had tomes on all sorts of magic. Certainly any currently in use at the Lyceum. Martel had just never considered going there, content with learning from Mistress Rana.

She gave a wry smile. "On the upper floor." Naturally. Where novices did not have access. "Anyway, I only did the usual one month course in the apothecary, so I thought you might know more about this than me."

His eyes ran over the recipe, both list of ingredients and instructions. "Most of these are simple enough reagents – crystal phial, huh, maybe not so simple after all. I've never heard of red clover before either. What does this potion do?"

"I cannot be sure. I had to translate this from Archean. While the recipe was straightforward to understand, being entirely practical, the description of the effect was shrouded in strange language."

Martel raised his eyes from the parchment to look at her. "You can read Archean?"

"My father ensured I never lacked for tutors." She gave an almost apologetic shrug. "But my teacher in the Archean language was not a wizard herself, and the potion description uses words I was never taught, most likely dealing with magic."

Martel thought about Father Julius back in Engby, who taught the letters and what else he knew of scholarly pursuits and the world to a boy with unending curiosity. Back then, the priest had seemed the most knowledgeable man possible. Now Martel imagined how much he could have learned, how far he would have progressed as a mage, if given the same opportunities as the child of a nobleman. "It looks intriguing, but I have no idea either. Waxflowers are mostly used for perfume. I know crow's feather is used in a concoction to stay awake or stimulate the mind, for instance, but it could have a completely different purpose here."

"From what I gather, the potion is used for something like that. I just cannot be certain. But it occurred to me – Gerard is still in the infirmary, right? Trapped in some kind of permanent sleep. Perhaps a more skilled alchemist than me could use this to help him." Eleanor gestured at the recipe.

It took Martel a moment to remember the name. The acolyte who had been attacked by a mysterious threat, leaving the boy unresponsive. Breathing, but in all other respects he might as well be dead. Indeed, he still lay in the infirmary; Martel had noticed him yesterday, but quickly moved on. He did not need the reminder of what terrible danger lurked somewhere in the unknown. "If anyone can make this, it would be Mistress Rana. I don't know if she would trust some recipe I brought to her without knowing where it came from."

"I wrote the title of the book at the top. She can look into it herself."

"Oh, right. Sure, I'll bring this to her. It can't hurt."

She smiled. "Great. And if it will earn you goodwill with your teacher, you can say it was your idea. I remember Mistress Rana from my brief time in the apothecary. She is a hard woman to please."

Before Martel could think further on it, she stood up, her meal finished. With a quick wave of her fingers in goodbye, she left. Watching her leave, Martel wondered what she had been studying in the library to stumble upon this elixir in the first place.

~

Doing his daily check for mail, Martel was rewarded with a letter from home. Quickly going to his room, he eagerly opened the envelope to read the message from his mother.

My dearest boy,

We all missed you at the solstice celebration. Your younger brothers especially, but also your sisters. Even Keith as well, even if he did not say so outright. You know he is not one to say much, but I could tell. We had our first taste of Juliet's brew, and it was even better than we could have expected. It was strange to celebrate without your father. Some might say hard to celebrate at all. Day to day, I think we are so busy, there is not much time to miss him. But when we all gathered around the bonfire, I think we all felt his absence.

We have had good wool this year. William sheared this year, and I was ever so frightful he would end up shearing his own skin off. You know how frightfully wild his movements are. But he did well, and I will be making a nice tunic for John. He grows so much, he is going to need it. Also he has a cough, and if he is coughing in summer, he will definitely need warm clothes for winter. I will make one for you as well, if I can trust someone to take it south. I do not think the Imperial post will carry clothes.

Are you still doing well in school? I often ask John to read your last letter, or Mira. I cannot believe the things you describe, but we all love to hear about them. And about you.

With love,

Your mother

Once he had finished it, Martel read the letter a second time. He assumed the lettering was done by Father Julius, but the scattered thoughts jumping from one topic to the next definitely sounded like his mother. He could practically hear her voice as he read the words. He decided to write her back immediately rather than put it off and possibly forget.

Dear mum,

I'm sorry I couldn't spend the solstice with you. But you'll never guess what I did. I was invited to no less than three different celebrations among the noble people. Two of them are my friends, that is, they are from noble families, and I joined them for their feasts. I even performed magic in front of their guests. There was more food and drink then you could imagine. Enough to feed all of Engby easily for days.

My studies are going well. My teacher, Master Alastair, is very satisfied with my progress. I have finished learning the basic things and have moved on to more advanced magic. Hopefully when I am done – I think I forgot to mention in my last letter, I will only require two years, not four years, so I'll be done two years sooner than expected – I can't wait to come home and show you all the things I can do.

My studies in alchemy are also proceeding. I have learned useful things, such as making salves to treat bruises or wounds, and even made some without supervision. I'll soon be able to call myself a proper apothecary, if not an alchemist yet.

You should gather some lungwort and dry the leaves. Make a tea from them and give it to John morning and evening. More often than that if his cough does not go away. Keep up with it until he no longer has any cough at all. My teacher says that lungwort is the best remedy for a simple cough.

Martel

He smiled to himself as he finished the letter. First Eleanor and now his mother. Alchemy was starting to look the most useful of everything he was learning. Would being an alchemist prove a better choice in the end than a weathermage? Perhaps he could be both. Fulfil his obligations to the Empire as the latter, while earning a pretty penny for himself doing the former. Not to mention, how satisfying it would be to have the remedies for all the little ills and pains that troubled everyone, especially as they grew older. Although she never complained, Martel knew that his mother still had trouble with her left arm ever since she broke it years ago, even though the bone had long since healed.

He rummaged through his pockets and purse to make a tally of his wealth. A few copper coins met his scrutinising gaze. Not even enough to send a letter by Imperial post. Practising his magic, he had not found many opportunities to earn money lately, but he would have to do so if he wanted to post this message.

The bell rang, and Martel leapt up, hurrying to his second lesson of the day with Master Alastair.