Firebrand

Chapter 129: The Eye of the Storm

Chapter 129: The Eye of the Storm

The Eye of the Storm

His introduction to water magic at an end, Martel waited with the other novices in the entrance hall for his new teacher. Soon, a man wearing a purple robe with white patterns approached with such forceful steps, it almost felt like he was trying to cause a collision.

His movement came to an abrupt halt one pace away from the novices. "You must be my newest victims! I am Master Gilbert, Master of Air. With me!" He turned around and strode out of the entrance hall, leaving his students to run after him.

Out on the streets, their teacher steered directly south along the main street, setting the same brisk pace as before. All the while, he talked without pause.

"Unlike Mistress Vana, I will not be dragging you all over the city lesson after lesson. But there is one point of interest to visit where air magic is concerned. Should one of you young folks join our esteemed company, you may find yourselves working in just this place."

Passing through the market district, more people filled the streets, and the novices struggled to evade traffic while keeping up with their teacher. He did not appear to have any such trouble as walkers-by almost seemed to part before him, making Martel wonder if the mage used magic to simply push people aside.

"Now, any air acolyte can aspire to three different positions. Windmage, seamage, or stormmage. The names explain themselves I imagine, and the latter two regrettably do require a certain skill in water as well. Keep that in mind when you consider the wondrous opportunities that air magic offers you."

The teacher's next words were lost in the noise of a donkey braying while men unloaded goods from its back; forced to walk around, Martel could only find Master Gilbert thanks to his long hair flowing in every direction as if a whirlwind of its own.

They moved from the market district to the harbour, and Martel felt a sudden spike of anxiety. If they continued down this road, it would lead them straight past The Broken Crown. He tried to calm himself; he had been masked during his fights, nobody had any reason to be looking for him at this hour, and if anyone tried anything, a master of the Lyceum accompanied him. Assuming Martel could keep up. He pulled up the hood of his robe, dragging up what little anonymity he could from it, and hurried after his teacher.

~

Once they had traversed the harbour district without incident, reaching the docks, Martel breathed a little easier and pulled down his hood. Their destination soon became apparent. A small promontory extended further south, protecting the port from storms. Upon it was built a lighthouse, guiding ships to safety.

Master Gilbert unlocked the door and turned around suddenly, looking at his students. "Everyone here? How many did we start with?"

"Four of us, master," Martel replied.

The teacher pointed his finger at each of them, counting loudly until he reached four. "Excellent. Follow me!"

They began ascending the many steps of the lighthouse.

"Now, windmages serve a handful of different positions throughout the Empire. Quite a lot of windmills in this land. But every harbour of size will have one windmage stationed, usually by its lighthouse, serving a specific function."

They reached the top of the tower. In the middle stood a great lantern, ready to light the way when night fell; for now, it remained dark. Next to it stood a young mage wearing a white robe. He glanced at them with little interest, nodding at Master Gilbert.

"Do not mind him, he's just tired of having harbour duty." Their teacher beckoned for them to join him at the parapet. As Martel looked down, he felt queasy. They had to be at least a hundred feet up in the air. Below even the grandest of ships looked small, sailing in and out of the harbour.

This high up, Martel felt the constant push of the wind blowing through his hair. Even so, the windmage in their company was busy, constantly making small movements and presumably controlling the flow of air far below them.

"On a busy day, scores of ships will arrive or depart from Morcaster. The bigger vessels will have their own seamage, but the smaller ones don't," Master Gilbert explained. "To ensure everything runs smoothly, a wind mage will control traffic in and out of the port."

Interesting, even if Martel did not himself wish for such a task. Standing up here all day, rain or sun, cold or warm, staring down at the small ships did not seem enviable work. Yet he did feel impressed by the mage next to them, able to overlook the whole harbour and control the flow of traffic with all its challenges.

"Of course, if you have an aptitude for both air and water, other opportunities lie ahead of you," Master Gilbert continued. "Look at the three mast ship just now gliding out past the cape. A vessel of that size will surely have a seamage aboard, probably crossing the ocean to reach Sindhu."

"It's The Green Petal," muttered the wind mage without removing his eyes from the harbour below. "It's going to Aquila."

"Yes, yes, whatever. Point is, if you wish to sail to distant lands, see the most magnificent sights, becoming a seamage is the choice for you!"

Martel did wish for that. His time spent in the Vault of Water with Mistress Vana had made him feel convinced that becoming a weathermage was actually the choice for him, but the dream of setting sail and travelling even beyond the continent still had its hooks in him. Perhaps he could delay his choice; weather or sea, both required him to study water and air.

"Finally, I direct your attention to the galley on the second pier. A ship of war, which may very well have a stormmage aboard."

"It doesn't," mumbled the windmage.

"Well, it could have," Master Gilbert sniffed. "As the name suggests, becoming a stormmage is not for the faint of heart. Our friend here, for instance, suffers dreadfully from seasickness, which explains why his feet are on solid ground rather than on a vessel." He sent a smug look at the windmage, who simply scoffed.

"What does a stormmage do?" asked one of the novices.

"He summons the storm, obviously! Imagine a foreign vessel, approaching ours to do battle! Suddenly, lightning strikes to set their sails aflame!" The wind blowing Master Gilbert's long hair in every direction served well to underline his words. "The sea roars and thrashes against the wooden planks of their ship. They run out their oars to escape, but a terrible maelstrom grips and rips them to shreds!"

The conjured image did sound magnificent, but also dreadful. Martel disliked the idea of having a wondrous gift like magic, only to use it for pure destruction. It was easier to destroy than build, after all.

"I was a stormmage for twenty years," their teacher remarked. "Who knows? Maybe one of you has what it takes. For now, back to the school!"

~

Leaving the lighthouse to walk back through the harbour, Martel got an idea. He wondered if he should ask for permission, but Master Gilbert already strode ahead with little regard for who did or did not follow him. Making a quick decision, Martel turn east and headed towards the Khivan enclave.

Luck favoured him; he found Shadi at the small temple square, enjoying the sun. They both smiled, and he waved as he approached. "That's fortunate, running into you here."

She laughed a little. "I am working, so to say. Spending some hours away from the house so my dad doesn't wonder how I earn silver if I'm home all the time."

"Right, yeah. Listen, tomorrow, some of my friends are doing a prize fight in the copper lanes. Would you like to see it with me? Like a proper night out. I'll take you out, I mean," he explained awkwardly.

"That sounds exciting," she replied, though her expression looked doubtful. "But the copper lanes, that's far from home, and not so safe after dark."

"I'll walk with you both ways," he promised. "You don't have to worry if you're with me."

"Alright." She smiled at him. "Tomorrow. Let's just meet here, by the fountain. When?"

"I'll be here at seventh bell."

"Great. See you then."

He gave Shadi a quick goodbye and hurried away to make it home to the Lyceum before his next class, already looking forward to tomorrow evening.