Chapter 423: A Spell in a Jar
A Spell in a Jar
The next days progressed in typical manner; Martel attended his lessons and chores, occasionally thinking about his trip on Solday. Nora had already gone on such forays a few times and told him what little there was to relate. It was exactly as it seemed; a trip to the fields outside the city, gathering herbs. Mistress Rana would explain the exact details and methods, but as Martel already knew how to awaken magic in the Sindhian manner, he should not have any difficulties.
***
Done with enchanting large rocks, Martel had not spent any more time practising enchantment since the previous fiveday; he no longer needed to stop by the workshops regularly and see how long the stone remained enchanted. Instead, he had to trap a spell in a jar, in a manner of speaking. Manday morning, he returned to the small laboratory and renewed his efforts on how to enchant a fire pot.
As expected, he found it difficult to hit the balance. Too much power or too eager casting, and the oil ignited immediately. Too cautious, too slow, the spell did not take. Again and again, Martel wove magic into the liquid, slamming the lid on the jar shut the moment that he ceased casting. Every time, his attempt failed.
Until it succeeded. At least, Martel began to hope that it had. It was easy to tell when he had overdone it; the flame spewing up from the pot told him as much. And when he had been too meek, he could feel the lack of magic inside the closed jar. This time, as he reached out to sense what lay trapped inside the clay – the material blocked his ability to feel the magic to some degree, but he believed that he sensed something.
Martel looked around; even if he and his clothes could probably withstand the fire, it did not seem wise to shatter the pot inside the small room. Plenty of valuable items and tools that might take a scratch or worse.
Leaving the workshop, Martel's first thought was the gymnasium, which lay nearby. But he found it full of mageknights practising weaponry. Although they could probably handle having a fire pot thrown at them, it seemed best to find an empty space; Martel was not keen on spectators, in case his enchantment had failed.
Thinking of a better place that would be unoccupied at this hour, Martel crossed the castle and walked up the steps to enter the Circle of Fire. Feeling a little excited, and at the same time trying not to get his hopes up in case of disappointment, Martel shook the fire pot in his hand and flung it at the wall. It broke upon contact with the bricks, and a ball of fire burst out.
Martel could not help but laugh seeing this. He had feared it might take him ages before learning the necessary control to weave such a volatile enchantment. The timing was also great; he would no longer be able to practise enchantment on Soldays due to his trips with Mistress Rana, but he should be fine using what other hours were available to him. He still had to practise further, so that he could do it reliably and much faster, but the first time was always the most difficult. Still smiling, Martel walked over and picked up the shards of clay.
***
At supper, Martel sat by himself as usual, though he noticed Eleanor across the hall with her female friends, which reminded him of an issue; he could not help her study magic on Soldays if he were out of the city. He had meant to speak with her about this earlier, but he kept forgetting. Since Solday was tomorrow, this was his last opportunity to talk with her before he left.
Martel waited until he saw her get up to leave, and quickly, he moved over to intercept her. "Got a moment?"
"Of course." They moved through the doorway to stand in the northern corridor, stepping away from the flow of students moving in and out of the dining hall. More than one of them sent a look at the gangly fire acolyte talking to the elegant mageknight. As for Eleanor, she looked up at him with her brown eyes. "Is something going on?"
"Of sorts. Mistress Rana is taking me outside the city tomorrow. Probably on other Soldays too. Learning about gathering herbs." As Martel said the words, he felt a little silly, conjuring the image of him picking flowers. He cleared his throat. "Some of it has to be done the right way, using magic and such."
If Eleanor thought the same, she hid it well and only looked at him with understanding. "I see. So you will not be available tomorrow afternoon in the library. Well, your pursuit of alchemy is more important."
"We could do it today?" he blurted out. "Well, not today, since it's already evening. But on Mandays instead of Soldays." Even if Martel doubted that they would ever find a cure for Eleanor's sister among the dusty tomes of the library shelves, he knew that he would miss spending that bell in her quiet company. Otherwise he would only see her regularly during combat lessons, which was anything but relaxed. "My sixth bell has opened up."
"That will work. I have training at fifth bell. I may arrive late though. It will take me some time to make myself presentable after sparring."
"Even after training, you're more presentable than anybody else in this school," Martel remarked, only partly in jest.
Half a smile wandered across her lips. "Perhaps in your eyes, but I doubt the librarian agrees."
"You're probably right. Well, I'll see you Manday afternoon, whenever you find it fitting to appear."
"Fitting or not, you shall indeed see me." She winked and left, walking down the corridor towards her dormitory tower. Martel watched her for a long moment before he went his own way, going to his own chamber to practise Master Alastair's exercise.
This content is taken from (f)reewe(b)novel.𝗰𝗼𝐦