Satisfaction

Martel dreamt of fire and mobs pursuing him, led by leather-gloved legionaries. Even if his ordeal at The Broken Crown had come to an end, his mind still needed time to process the events, it seemed. When he finally woke, even before first bell had rung, he barely felt rested. His only consolation came from knowing that the dream would not chase him into the waking world; his time as a pit fighter had come to an end.

After breakfast, he waited in the entrance hall with the other novices for Mistress Vana. She appeared soon after, and rather than leaving the castle, she led them down the corridors of the school. Approaching the Hall of Elements, she chose a door just before the entrance to Master Alastair's domain, going down a flight of stairs until they reached a large space.

Despite being underground, light was not an issue. Lamps glowed with some kind of magic unknown to Martel. Thanks to them, he could see that this was in fact a large pool, with a number of pathways crossing the water. Large glass pipes rose in the corners from the basin into the ceiling, allowing him to see the blue liquid within.

"The Vault of Water, as we call it. I assume the name requires no explanation," Mistress Vana said dryly. Martel looked up to see the domed ceiling. "We are directly below the Hall of Elements, which you should all be familiar with. In fact, the glass pipes connect the circle of water above with the pool here underneath. This is where watermages practice their craft once they become acolytes and must learn to control large bodies of water." She shot a glance at Martel.

The novice looked around, imagining having classes in this place. The soft glow of the lamps and the gentle movement of the water gave a tranquil impression, entirely opposite to how he had spent his nights lately. Watching the light reflected in the pool made him wish he could come here every day; that his training could begin now.

"Today, we will make a few exercises to help determine your aptitude with water. Nothing complicated. First, I would direct your attention towards the edge of the basin." They all looked down at their feet and saw that the ground had been inscribed with runes. "Another little discovery from the North. These symbols help to purify the water and keep it from turning into a swamp. You will learn these runes once you are acolytes, as access to clean drinking water is obviously always useful. But for now, some practical exercises for you to learn."

Martel looked away from the symbols and directed his attention at his teacher, prepared to impress her and earn a spot as a future watermage.

~

"Any letters?"

Henry gave a smirk. "I know why you ask, and your prayers have been answered. Your female liaison has seen fit to grace you with another missive." The airmage handed over a note, which Martel quickly snapped away.

Dear Martel,

My heartfelt congratulations on your latest endeavour.

You have accomplished the rare feat of impressing me.

I consider our arrangement concluded to satisfaction,

but my door remains open for future ventures.

The Copper Lady

Martel scowled at the paper. After throwing him to the wolves, did she think he would ever have anything to do with her again?

At least she did not try to extort him any further. Perhaps she knew better than to keep pressuring a mage, however young, or maybe even those engaged in illicit dealings had some semblance of honour. Regardless, Martel had no interest in ever seeing that woman again. He ignited a flame between his fingertips holding the paper, watching it burn.

"Hey, Maximilian!" Henry called out as the mageknight passed by.

Martel looked across the entrance hall, watching his friend receive something from the airmage acting as clerk. They exchanged some words before Maximilian turned around.

Spotting Martel, the mageknight walked over, raising his hand in front of him. "Well, that damnable woman does not renege on her agreements, at least." On his finger sat a signet ring with the crest of Marche.

"Write her a note to say thank you, she seems to love writing letters," Martel grumbled.

"Ah, surely we can put this all behind us now."

The novice looked around, just to make sure nobody was standing close, listening to their conversation. "It wasn't you she used as bait."

"But it was me who got you out," Maximilian pointed out. "You sound like Eleanor, all tempestuous over this little affair. Me, I have my ring back. I have satisfaction."

"A lot of that going around. When did you speak to Eleanor?"

"Oh, this morning. We have training every morning, after all. I had to tell her of our thrilling escape."

"Not so loud," Martel hissed.

"All those concerns will age you before your time," Maximilian warned him, sauntering off.

~

In the evening, Martel retired to his room. He enjoyed the quiet solitude compared to last night and being spared any sparring with Maximilian, now that he no longer needed to prepare for his fights. Instead, he could focus on his exercises from Master Alastair. His trip to the Vault of Water had invigorated his desire to practise elemental magic, putting empowerment behind him.

A knock interrupted him. Frowning, Martel got up. Did Maximilian think they were still going to train together? There was no need for that anymore.

As he opened the door, he saw Eleanor outside. To his surprise, she quickly wrapped her arms around him. "I am glad you are safe," she mumbled before releasing him, barely giving him time to reciprocate. "I am sorry it took me a while to see you. I needed to consider what to say first."

"That's fine. It all went well," Martel told her, still feeling a little startled. "You don't have to say anything."

"I do." She looked up at him, taking half a step back. "Martel, I warned you. To stay out of trouble, to stop getting involved with everything. To ask for help, advice, rather than charge off on your own."

"Hey," he protested, "I remember not so long ago, it was me giving you advice." It had not been much more than a month since her ill-fated attempt at making a dangerous elixir.

"That was once, and I listened to you. But Martel, you take risks again and again. How many times have you needed Maximilian to save your skin?"

"Well, he hasn't complained about it yet." Martel crossed his arms, starting to feel angry at this line of questioning.

"When I first met you, I thought your desire to help others was admirable."

"And it isn't? I told you how this mess started, why I needed the silver," he argued.

"And you could not think of a better way? You never asked me for help. You did not even ask me for advice, you simply forged ahead and got yourself neck-deep into trouble!" She raised her voice a little, frustration overflowing, eyes darting away.

Martel almost bit his tongue. She was not being fair, but he knew he would regret anything he might reply to her in this moment.

"I am sorry." She took a deep breath. "I did not mean to sound angry. I just needed to explain my reasoning."

"For what?"

She looked him in the eye. "I think you have a need to be a hero, Martel, and that is what really drives you. I also think it will get you seriously hurt or worse, sooner or later. I have tried to reason with you, but since you do not listen, I will not wait around for my prediction to come true."

"What do you mean?"

"I think it is best we spend our remaining time at the Lyceum apart. Take care, Martel. I really hope you do." She did not wait for an answer but turned around and walked away with quick steps.

Dumbfounded, he watched her leave, disappearing down the stairs.