《Firebrand》20. The Golden Goose
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The Golden Goose
After assisting Master Jerome for a bell, as was his duty every Solday, Martel worked for another bell, this time getting paid. The task was even interesting, at least at first. Using a strange liquid, and wearing gloves, Martel washed away ink from parchment. Before Jerome showed it to him, the novice had never even suspected this could be done. He simply assumed once spent, the parchment was of no further use.
Yet with careful work and the right tools, the ink could be scraped and removed, leaving the parchment almost as good as new. After instructing Martel and overseeing his work for a while, Jerome left him to it.
While the novelty of the task soon faded, Martel discovered another interesting facet of this task. It gave him a unique view into the Lyceum. So far, he had only received a few notes himself; most of the scraps of parchment were of this variety, summoning students to tasks or meetings.
Yet now and then, he got a glimpse of teachers leaving frosty messages to their colleagues, or students making jests. One in particular held a drawing of Master Fenrick, accentuating some of his less fortunate features. Martel was almost sorry to remove it. In this manner, he earned a silver piece in the most entertaining way yet.
~
Adding another coin to the first, Martel went for lunch. With a tight grip on his silver – owning money was still new to Martel, and he felt uncomfortable walking around with it – he grabbed his bread, fruits, cheese, and slice of mutton and looked around.
As before, Jasper waved for him to sit with the elemental acolytes. Martel nodded in recognition but kept looking, wanting to handle his errand first and be freed of the coins burning in his hand. Finally, he saw Maximilian.
Approaching the table of mageknights while balancing his plate of food, Martel spoke his name quietly.
"Hey there." Maximilian gave him a nod.
"I just wanted to repay you. For the other day." Shuffling his food a little, Martel extended his palm with the silver coins.
Maximilian blew out his breath. "Mate, I invited you along. Do not insult me. Save your coin."
"Oh. Well, if you are sure."
"It never crossed my mind."
Martel was reminded of their differences again; he had thought about those two pieces of silver constantly from the moment Maximilian paid for his entry at the tavern.
"Are you going to sit and eat or what?" asked the mageknight. "You are making me nervous, standing there. Sit down."
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A little stunned, Martel looked at the other mageknights at the table, who clearly did not share Maximilian's attitude. Yet he did not feel he could reject the invitation and risk upsetting who might be his only friend at the Lyceum. Since a spot was open opposite Maximilian, Martel felt compelled to take it.
As he did so, the nearest mageknights rose quite demonstratively and left. "Sorry," Martel mumbled.
"What for?" Maximilian looked at him with a frown. "We need to get you some confidence, mate. You already put one mageknight on his back."
"I guess." Martel began to eat slowly after shoving his coins into an inner pocket.
"I got an idea. How are your classes looking today?"
"Oh, I don't have any duties for the rest of the day."
"Great. I got weapon practice after lunch, so let us meet at sixth bell."
"Alright... to do what?" Martel patted his pocket, just to check his coins had not fallen out.
"You want to pay me back?" Maximilian grinned. "You are buying first round."
~
At sixth bell, the pair of tall boys left the Lyceum. Going south, they passed the great marketplace that drew people from the entire city. Reaching the point where the market district transitioned into the harbour, Maximilian finally stopped and turned right. He steered towards a large building of several floors, built in stone. Over the door hung a sign with a goose in golden feathers.
Martel had passed by it once or twice, but never paid any attention to it. Now he followed his friend inside. Compared to the tavern yesterday, this seemed more orderly. Besides drinking, some people sat at tables, eating food. The staff wore clean clothes with barely any stains. While the clientele did appear mostly male and forty years or older, the mood and patrons seemed less raucous.
The new arrivals walked up to a counter. Behind it stood an older man in work clothes, and several large barrels were stacked on top of each other with a tap inserted. "Two," Maximilian declared, holding up two fingers. "From that barrel over there." He pointed to towards the end.
"Four pennies," mumbled the tavernkeeper as he grabbed two mugs.
"That is your cue," Maximilian told Martel.
"Right, right." He began digging into his pockets to find four copper coins. As the proprietor returned with two full mugs, Martel placed the payment on the counter.
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Maximilian grabbed them both, and they turned to search for a place to sit. The room looked full, but the mageknight located a small table pushed to the side with a small lamp providing illumination. Scavenging some chairs, the pair sat down and took their first draught of the drink.
"You've been here before," Martel remarked.
"For sure. It is a modern place, serving food also. And you can even rent rooms on the upper floors."
"That sounds expensive. Who would want that?"
Maximilian shrugged. "Sometimes a room away from home can be useful." A sly grin spread across his face.
Martel hurried to drink from his cup, hiding his blush.
"When you are the son of a count, a mageknight, and as handsome as me, you learn such things." The acolyte laughed.
"I'm sure," the novice mumbled.
"Where is it you are from? Where in Nordmark?"
"Town called Engby."
"Leave someone broken-hearted in Engby?" Maximilian's grin increased. "Or waiting for you to return."
"No, nothing like that."
Emptying his tankard, Maximilian set it on the table, crossed his arms, and leaned back. "Are you telling me that those blue eyes never ensnared anyone? Or perhaps they are locked on someone here in Morcaster, huh?"
"Well," Martel admitted, "there may be someone I like."
"Hah! Someone I know?"
The novice shook his head. "I doubt it." He hesitated. "She's Khivan. Lives in their quarter."
Maximilian nodded a little, his expression unreadable. "You do not see many of those in Nordmark, I imagine."
"Never, really."
"Well, I am glad you are not wasting time. Wait here, I will get the next round." The mageknight grabbed their mugs and left for the counter.
Feeling awkward by himself, Martel glanced around the room; at the same time, he did his best to avoid actually looking at anyone, lest he might invite any kind of trouble. He shifted his gaze to the small lamp on the table, providing scant light.
As the moments dragged on, he began feeling uncomfortable. He looked towards the counter, but could not spot Maximilian.
Finally, two men approached him. In their fifties or so, they looked like day-labourers or such, with rough hands and sinewy arms.
"Look, you can't sit here alone, taking up tables and chairs. Let us have it," one of them demanded.
"My friend is coming back. Sorry, you'll have to find another," Martel replied.
"Listen to this whelp. Bet he has soft hands. Never worked a day in his life," the other labourer spat; he had a vicious scar running down his face. "Now he thinks he's a big man."
"Look, don't make trouble. You and your friend can go elsewhere," the first one suggested.
"What is happening here?" asked Maximilian, returning with two ales.
The two men gave the mageknight a look, noticing his black tunic and the sword by his side. "Who is this? Your bodyguard?" sneered the scarred man.
Maximilian laughed. "As if! Rather, he provides protection for me. Tell them, Martel."
Martel, having no clue what he was meant to say, opted for a delaying strategy. "Should be obvious. Doesn't need saying."
"Indeed." Maximilian's smile turned to an overbearing expression. "My friend here is a mage. He could turn you inside out with just a look."
The labourers exchanged looks. "Horseshit! He's some scribbler's boy, nothing more."
"Show them, Martel."
Having to act fast, Martel pointed his finger at the small lamp with its flame. He poured his magic into the fire, and it shot upwards like an arrow. Startled, all of them stumbled backwards, even Maximilian.
The mageknight recovered first. "Anything else?"
The labourers hurried away, eyes cast down and muttering to themselves.
With a satisfied look, Maximilian sat down, placing one cup in front of Martel. "Well done."
"That was a little intense."
"I doubt they would have dared much. But we should get you a staff. Good for defending yourself, and it sells you better as a mage," the acolyte laughed.
"Good idea." Being armed in some way or another did make sense in a city like Morcaster.
"I knew someone would try to make trouble," Maximilian admitted. "Just had to wait a while."
"You knew? Wait, did you stay away on purpose?"
"Guilty." Despite his admission, the mageknight did not seem burdened. "I told you, Martel, you need confidence. Look how you sent them off! It will take you far."
"I suppose."
"You want that Khivan girl of yours to like you? Confidence," Maximilian claimed, raising his mug.
Martel grabbed his own and did likewise. "To confidence."
"Cheers to that!"
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Virtuous Cultivation
-July 10, 2022- Stocked Chapters: 8 I'm out of hiatus, but honestly, I can't trust myself to post consistently anymore... A new arc is about to begin, and I'll start posting again once the entirety is done. It might take a year, but honestly, this story is going to go on for the foreseen future anyway... so I suppose that's just a blip in the grand scheme of things? I'll leave updates here every once in a while, if for some reason you're still actively checking on this incredibly slow story T-T The path of cultivation is often portrayed as one stained by bloodshed. But is that truly necessary? Heaven is merciful, after all. On a rather ordinary day, a peasant girl was whisked away by a strange old man. In a hall of great white jade, she was offered the chance to cultivate. ...too bad she's as lazy as a sloth. Slice of life Xianxia with fairly little action in early chapters, more focused on comedy. Discord Link: https://discord.com/invite/kuhVNcK (finally fixed!)
8 84Eater
Warning: This story is purely for practice. Do not expect me to finish it. Do not expect it to be good. Do no expect regular updates. Do not expect perfect grammar. Do not expect good story-telling. Do not expect innovative ideas. This will be very ameturish. Also there will be profanity, possible light-sexual content and possible gore. All criticism is welcome. Kenta is a 17 year old who on his way to a grocery store sale, dies and is reincarnated into a world of fantasy, where magic and mythical beasts exist. Everyone in this world has a status menu, like a game, which tells a persons name, title, skills and attributes. In this world the strong rule and the weak fall behind. As a baby people start out with 0 skills and 0 attributes. Everyone in this world can build up their attributes, learn skills and earn titles. A select few a born skills and raised attributes. Kenta having died in his previous world, is shocked to learn this, but quickly adapts to this game like reality and uses his knowledge and training to help survive in this new world. Upon opening his status menu, he notices he already has a skill. Skill: Eater: Allows one to consume any singular item (excluding proper food) to gain skills/attributes. Consuming dangerous substances will not kill you.
8 216The devils journey
An old goblin sat at his death bed as he recalled the past with regret, his blurry old life on earth and the struggles and chance luck to survive, but this is the end and even though he knows it is he still wished to go back and be different. This is the tale of the old goblins 2nd or rather 3rd life and his journey from the weakest to the strongest to protect those he wishes and kill those who stand in his way. I do not own the cover message me if you want it removed, all credit to original cover owner
8 164Atlas Code
With no face, no friends, no memory, and absolutely no idea what he's supposed to be doing, Atlas finds himself stranded on the island of Tartarus, where fantastical monsters and mysterious forces run rampant. Armed only with his wits and a pair of high tech bracers with no instruction manual, Atlas must discover the true nature of the island and its inhabitants, and why nobody ever leaves...
8 75Son of Chaos
One night was all it took. One night to end an old life and start a new one. Destroying his school while trying to save his life, he is rescued from the brink of death by a group of strangers, carried back to a Camp upheld for people like him. Demigods. For the Greek Gods really do exist, as do the myths of old, and to this day children are born from the deities of Olympus who require training and care. Yet the time of relative peace for the demigods is coming to an end, and they will find themselves in the midst of a war the likes of which the face of Gaia has never seen before. Our hero has much to face, much to endure before the end can finally come, but he is not alone. Far from it. This is the tale of Daniel James Greenfield. The Son of Chaos. Percy Jackson Fanfiction Fanfiction timeline divergence from the original work starts after the Heroes of Olympus Series ends
8 111kleinsen vs treebros
I dislike treebros because it makes no sense. blah, blah, blah, AU's, I KNOW! it's just my opinion.kleinsen is canon, could happen, and is adorable.I don't want to offend anyone and I respect everyone's opinions. butConnor 👏is👏Dead👏dEAL wiTH it![edited 7/15]
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