Chapter 366: Matter over Mind
Matter over Mind
The longer Martel thought about it, the better he felt about his decision to stay in Morcaster. As intriguing as it would be to set sail for foreign lands, ultimately, it was a step too far to trust this mysterious fellow, whom he had only met once before, and whose real name he had not learned. Going to his class on Tyrian runes, sitting down with Maximilian and Eleanor on either side, Martel felt reassured he had chosen wisely.
As the previous Mandays, Master Fenrick had another rune to teach them. Martel felt a little overwhelmed at the pace with which they went through the symbols, considering he had yet to make any of them work; and if he had trouble doing so, he could only imagine how the rest of the class felt. But either the teacher knew what he was doing, or he did not care. In either case, he held up a parchment to show them yet another strange symbol with twisting lines interlocking.
"The rune of preservation, we call it, as its purpose is to create cold. You may think that nature provides this in abundance in the lands of Tyria, but even there, summer can be hot and quickly turn food spoiled. This rune, which they might inscribe straight upon the meat or bread, keeps it cold. While obviously our own enchantments can achieve the same effect, only those gifted in elemental magic can do this." The teacher glanced at his students, all of the mageknights except one. "That means even you have hope of learning how to keep your ale cold on a hot day."
"Finally, something useful," Maximilian muttered, which made Martel smile.
"The activating word is this. Frjósa." Master Fenrick almost breathed rather than spoke the phrase, but they all saw the shimmer of magic around his hand. From the distance, Martel could not tell of any effect, so he let his ability to sense heat extend forward. A cold pocket met him where the rune stood inscribed on the parchment. "Get to work," their teacher commanded. He spent the remainder of the lesson moving up and down the classroom, issuing corrections wherever needed.
*** 𝑓𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝑚contemporary romance
Martel stood, eyes closed and with complete focus on his magical sense. "Water. Earth. Water. Air. Fire. Earth." Each utterance came in response to feeling a burst of magic from his teacher. As he no longer felt any spell work being done, he opened his eyes to look at Master Alastair.
"Correct on all. And speedily done too. You've come far learning how to sense and identify magic. But that's just the first part of learning how to counterspell."
Martel nodded, knowing he still had ways to go; even so, he felt a thrill at how good he had become. He hoped that by increasing his sensitivity to magic in this way, it would affect his ability to identify in general. Recognising spells was one thing; if he could add potions and artefacts to that, he would feel like an expert. Perhaps even like a Master of Lore.
"The hardest part comes now," his teacher warned him. "Sensing the element at play, the spell attacking you, is only the first step. You must react with the opposite element to counter, and you must do so immediately, or it will be too late. Now, it's not intuitive for our minds to think water when we feel fire, earth when we feel air, and so on. But that is what we must train. Close your eyes and focus once again. When you feel and identify my spell, draw the opposite element into your hand."
"Yes, master." Martel readied himself, eyes closed and hands in front of him. He waited until he felt fire; eager to react, his mind and instinct both went to what seemed most obvious and conjured a strong flame into his own hand. It took him a moment to realise what he had done; he opened his eyes to look at his teacher with a sheepish expression.
As for Master Alastair, he gave a wry smile. "I may have been a little unfair to you with this first attempt. For our kind, fire is always the first choice when it comes to magic. But now you understand what you are up against. And perhaps we should make this a little less difficult for you until you get the hang of it. For now, I'll only use water spells. So all you have to do is follow your instinct and conjure fire the moment you sense it. Understood?"
Martel nodded quickly and prepared himself once more.
***
Ready to give the elixir of fortitude another try, Martel stood once more in Mistress Rana's laboratory. He had brought his note with him, written down after last time so that he might remember the different steps. Unlike previous potions, this recipe required the ingredients added at different times with different heat. Adjusting the intensity of the fire was no issue for Martel, but he found it difficult to know when it was the right time to add the next reagent.
He was supposed to know this by examining his brew as he went along, checking colour, viscosity, and even smell; all of these signs and others would tell him when it was ready to move to the next step. Assuming he was a skilled alchemist who could correctly determine all of this, naturally. He had failed to do so last time, forcing Mistress Rana to step in and do it for him in order to save the potion. But he would learn it eventually; if that required some failures along the way, he would just have to accept that and keep trying.
"Let me see what you wrote down." Mistress Rana took his notes and let her eyes glance over it. "You remembered everything, at least, though your handwriting leaves much to be desired. Still, no use having a skilled hand if your mind is empty." She handed it back. "Very well, let us try it again. This time, remember to use all your senses. Even something like how the potion simmers can tell you whether you're progressing correctly or not."
"Yes, mistress." Taking his notes back, Martel put them aside and began awakening the magic in the ingredients.
