Blind Windfall

The next day, Martel was still unsure whether to agree to the Keeper's plan. Masked or not, it seemed foolhardy for him to enter The River Pearl, given how he had fallen out with Lady Pearl over the wandering troupe. If discovered, it would surely cause a disturbance, to put it mildly. He might have to fight for his life to escape, and he doubted the Keeper would be much use in a brawl.

On the other hand, Martel was a battlemage. He did not fear this tavern lady or her thugs. And if Lady Pearl had stolen the relic, taking it back would allow Martel to get even after how she and Ruby had used him as a distraction to break into the convent belonging to the Sisters of the Sun.

Unable to reach a decision, Martel pushed the thought away. Lady Pearl held masquerades somewhat regularly at her establishment; the next would be this coming Solday. That left him with a couple of days before he had to decide. For now, he would focus on his spellwork.

In the Circle of Fire, the acolytes stood as last time, all of them blindfolded. Any hint of silliness or nervous energy, like the first lesson doing this exercise, was gone. All four remained entirely still, focusing their magical senses. Martel could almost feel the anticipation build up inside of him, ready to be released.

"Begin!"

At Moira's command, the acolytes unleashed their spells. Fire bolts flew across the space in every direction, each of them using their ability to sense heat to find targets. No rules other than land your spells and avoid being hit. Martel's emotions constantly switched between elation at the former or frustration at failing the latter, only to immediately push such feelings away, resuming his concentration.

***

At the end, he felt he had done well, though he could not know for sure. Moira did not announce how many spells each acolyte had struck true; they only knew who had done worst, as that student got to spend the evening in detention. Hanging his head, Edward accepted his fate.

Leaving the Circle of Fire, Martel considered what he had learned. While he would never forgive Moira for what she had put him through, he had to admit the usefulness of this particular exercise. By honing his ability to sense heat, Martel felt he could land every spell now. His magical marksmanship, so to say, had greatly increased. He did not even need sight to find his target; as long as he had a straight line, his spells would hit. Which gave him an idea.

He only had to wait a little while until lunch and the opportunity to carry it out. "Max, do you still arrange fights in the Chamber of Earth?" Today was Pelday when the sparring club met.

The mageknight coughed. "Arrange is overstating it. I just make sure interested parties have a chance to square off against each other. Why?"

"Last time, I beat two opponents. I figured we could add a little more flair."

"Those actors have rubbed off on you. Dangerous, Nordmark, when you consort with such people. Still, I am all ears. What do you have in mind?"

"I need you to find me some odds and an opponent. And I got an idea that should draw interest and make those odds go up."

***

When evening came, Martel appeared in the Chamber of Earth. Rather than a staff, he was only armed with a blindfold. A circle of people gathered around, though still keeping some distance in anticipation of the fight; Maximilian had done well in drumming up interest.

Tying the fabric around his head, it took Martel a moment to adjust from the loss of sight. Soon, he saw before his inner eye a ring of heat surrounding him; every student in the space. Their murmurs also reached his ears, but he ignored those. He only needed to know their movements.

"He has his back turned to me," Julian pointed out. "Is this some kind of jest?"

Maximilian shook his head. "Not at all. You are free to attack him when you want, from any angle. Fight starts only when you do so."

Carrying an axe as on previous fights, Julian frowned. He had previously fought and lost to Martel when fighting on even terms. Now, he looked at the blindfolded acolyte, standing with his back turned towards the mageknight. "If I hit him in the head, blunted or not, that could crack his skull open." He hefted the axe in his hands.

Maximilian shrugged. "He had better be quick with his shield in that case."

"Just so we are clear, if he ends up in the infirmary, I am not to blame."

"You are not to blame."

Julian stretched his neck. "Very well." Raising his axe, he lunged forward with a battle cry, aiming his fearsome weapon at the back of Martel's head.

Immediately sensing the approaching heat source, Martel turned on his heel and unleashed a ray of fire. His eyes blind, he sensed the stream of red heat leaving his hand to reach its target straight ahead. Although keeping his focus on his magical sense, he still heard the anguished scream from Julian being struck by the spell. He saw the source of heat in front of him diminish, becoming half in size; the mageknight had fallen to his knees. Martel ended his spell.

Removing his blindfold, Martel saw this confirmed; the warrior's weapon lay on the ground next to him. The duel was over. Still whimpering, Julian got on his feet and pulled away. Meanwhile, Maximilian walked over to the fire acolyte. "Well done."

"I would have thought he'd be at least a little wary. Did he think I'd just stand here, blind, waiting for his attack?"

Maximilian shrugged. "Julian does not have much of a reputation for being a thinker."

"I guess that's why he's a mageknight," Martel considered.

With an offended look, his friend crossed his arms. "Such cheek! I would have you know, this mageknight got you odds three to one, earning you nine silver coins tonight."

"I would argue I did most of the work, but I'm grateful." The fire acolyte held out his hand, accepting a bounty of nine eagles. Discounting that three of them had been his own wager, that meant he had earned six silvers casting a single spell. Smiling, Martel pocketed the money.