Failing Walls

Martel felt a tinge of nervousness entering the arena for his second lesson. Being the only one threatened by detention, should they lose against the mageknights, the other fire acolytes had much less motivation in the upcoming skirmish. One might think that avoiding being hit should suffice, but it had not proven so in the past. Perhaps he could take a lesson from his teacher and use spite instead.

"I trust none of us want to give the mageknights the satisfaction of victory?" he asked.

Harriet gave a scornful smile. "You would say that, wouldn't you. Scared of spending an extra bell with Mistress Moira?"

Martel could not deny this; he had been lucky to get out of his last detention, though it had also deepened the rift between him and the other acolytes. Regardless, he doubted that Moira would be so lenient next time. "Sure, today, it's me at risk. What about next fiveday? And the one after that? Until we learn to win, all of us are at risk."

"I hate when they hit me," Edward complained.

"The mageknights are already insufferable," Willian assented.

Martel looked at Harriet, who made no further objections. "So we use our new spell. I'll be on the right, stepping in front of Edward, raising the flame wall down the flank. Harriet, you're second-best with this spell, so I think you should take the front line on the left, with William behind this time." He looked around at the others.

Nobody disagreed or voiced any complaints. Meanwhile, with Moira sitting in the stands, the mageknights had taken position opposite them. Eight in total, spread out across a single line.

"Begin!"

Fire bolts flew through the air. It disrupted the charge of the mageknights, though most of them continued unimpeded. As he stepped in front of Edward, Martel meanwhile pointed at the dirt behind him and ran his finger forward in a gesture. Flames erupted to the height of a man, and Martel saw the sudden confusion or even fear in the eyes of his opponents. Unable to outflank them and hemmed in, the warriors got in each other's way as they tried to attack Martel all at once. Behind him, Edward continued his offensive spells, hitting everyone now that the mageknights stood so closely together.

Sensing victory, Martel allowed himself a smile. It disappeared as an axe cut into his shoulder from the left side. It pushed him off balance, and the other mageknights seized the opportunity to swarm him and knock him down.

Coughing dust and raising his hands to protect his head, Martel looked around to see his fellow defenders likewise overwhelmed. As his concentration broke, dispelling his flame wall, he jerked his head towards Harriet. He realised what had happened; either her spell or her defence had failed, giving the mageknights their entry into the formation of fire acolytes.

As the warriors laughed and congratulated each other, Martel got on his feet and stalked over to Harriet. "What happened?" he asked in a sharp tone.

"They crossed my firewall. I guess it didn't frighten them like you thought." She seemed entirely unapologetic about her failure.

Martel narrowed his eyes. "You did that on purpose." He had not seen what happened, but he imagined she deliberately kept the spell weak, allowing the mageknights to circumvent or simply jump through.

"Doesn't make much of a difference, does it?" Harriet gave a sweet smile. "We still lost."

"Alright, it looks like the fire folk need some more time practising their spells," Reynard bellowed, eliciting smirks from the mageknights. "We shall continue with regular training." Out on the stands, Moira got up and left.

***

In the evening, Martel had an errand to run and money to collect. With a note written by his own hand, he left the Lyceum and walked east to the bridge district. In comparison to his last visit, The River Pearl looked almost subdued. It still had customers and merriment, but nothing like the grand party he had attended. This time, he walked through the front doors, though he kept his hood up. As he walked through the common room, he glanced around, just in case he might see Ruby, but no such luck. Instead, he continued to Lady Pearl's study and was admitted shortly after.

"Master Martel, you have come, true to your word." Her face lit up in her customary dazzling smile.

"Here's the list of everyone I looked at during the feast." Martel placed the scrap of parchment in front of her. "A few surprises, I suppose."

She picked it up to let her eyes glance over the names and Martel's brief descriptions of whether the gold had seemed for show. "Very good. And this is for you." She opened a drawer and counted out ten silver coins, stacking them on the desk in front of him.

"Much obliged." He collected the money, placing it inside a pocket.

"Before you leave – if you would indulge my curiosity." Lady Pearl reached down to pull out a flat stone. Even from across the table, Martel saw the light of magic emanate from it. "I bought this from the northern bard who played at the party. He claims it brims with power, but as you know, a simple woman such as I cannot tell the difference." She extended her hand.

Martel accepted the rock, looking it over. He saw Tyrian runes etched into the surface, no doubt the source of the magic. Unfortunately, he had no clue what they meant or did. He thought about the rune token given to him by Regnar; in contrast, it seemed dormant, if it held any magic at all. "Well, that claim is certainly true."

"Do you know what the signs do?"

"Unfortunately, I've yet to learn that," Martel admitted.

"No matter." She held out her hand, and he gave the stone back. "Thank you again, darling. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other."

Martel inclined his head; money in his pocket, he left the Pearl, already thinking about what to buy for his alchemy workshop.