Starlight

On Mandays, Martel had alchemy duty before his first class. He went there as soon as second bell rang, though Nora still arrived before him. Yet neither had time to begin their work before Mistress Rana appeared from within her laboratory. "When I prepared this the other morning," she said sharply as she passed through the apothecary to grab the bowl of red clover leaves, "I had twelve. Now I have only nine. Would either of you care to explain?"

The novice and the apprentice looked at each other, both wearing expressions of ignorance.

"Did you take some?" came the sharp accusation. "Or ruin them?"

"I didn't go near them, Mistress," Nora defended herself.

"Me neither," Martel hurried to say. His heart beat a little faster, both from feeling uncomfortable at the accusation and out of fear if this would cost him his place in the workshop.

"If I find out later that you have lied to me, that will be the end of your time in my apothecary. I ask again if either of you has anything to confess?"

They both shook their heads.

"In that case, someone must have taken them. Martel, did you lock up the other day after you left?"

He eagerly nodded. "For certain!" He remembered vividly holding the key in his hand and checking that the door was correctly locked before leaving the infirmary.

"Nora, who came to the apothecary while you were here?"

"Lots of people, I guess. The nurses collecting medicine, one or two mageknights buying salves, a battlemage with a sore throat, uhm… Master Jerome delivering empty vials, probably others." She bit her lower lip. "Not sure I remember them all."

"Perhaps – perhaps they fell on the floor? Or behind the table?" Martel suggested.

Mistress Rana gave him a withering look before she grudgingly checked the table where she had prepared the leaves the other day. Meanwhile, Martel looked around the room on the ground. No luck.

"This better not repeat itself," the alchemist impressed upon her apprentice and helper before she stalked out of the apothecary. The two people left behind looked at each other, shrugged, and resumed their work.

~

"Obviously, for our purposes, gold and silver are the most important metals. Then there are gems, of course, but will save those for another lesson." Master Fenrick let his eyes sweep over the classroom, encouraging the novices to pay attention. "While the baser metals may not have the same powerful effect on magic, they can still serve certain purposes for a mage. That purpose is defined by the origin of the metal, same as how the properties of gold are determined by its creation from sunlight and silver from moonlight."

Martel sat with his chin cupped by his hands, wondering at the process of how something as intangible as light could create something as heavy as metals. He considered if the process could be copied with magic; probably not with gold, given its ability to kill all magical effect. Silver, perhaps, though he imagined if any mage had discovered the method, they would hardly share it.

"While there may be more types of metal with magic properties, rarer ones we know little of, there are three common types to be aware of," their teacher continued. "Iron, copper, and tin. Anyone care to guess what light gave birth to them?"

The number three in connection with astronomy pointed to the obvious culprits, and Martel raised his hand. "The Triumvirate of the Heavens?"

"Very good. And which star yields which metal?"

One seemed obvious. "Malac gives iron." Weapons came from the warrior. As the other two, Martel had a harder time seeing any connection. He thought back on his trip to the Stone of Archen, where his affinity for Glund was revealed with a white light. "Glund gives tin, and Perel gives copper?"

"Correct. When it comes to artefacts, wards, or magical weapons and armour, clever use of these metals may strengthen intended effects. Same goes for their alloys."

"Such as using bronze for collecting herbs?" He thought about seeing the strange sickle in Mistress Rana's belt.

Master Fenrick gave a sly smile. "For instance. But that is beyond the reach of this particular course. Come see me when you are a herbalist, and I can teach you more."

Martel made a mental note to do just that.

~

Once class had ended, Master Fenrick gestured for Martel to stay a moment while the other novices filed out. "I hear you brought the recipe of a rare potion to Mistress Rana. Did you find it yourself?"

"No, master. I just brought it to her since I work in the apothecary," Martel explained.

"I thought as much. Else you'd have to explain how you gained access to a book on the restricted floor. But I suspected a boy from a small town in Nordmark would not be able to accurately translate Archean," the teacher explained with a glint in his eye.

"Oh no. I would never," Martel insisted. As much as the upper floor of the library intrigued him, he was not going to risk expulsion when he could simply wait until he became an acolyte.

"Good. While there should not be any truly dangerous books anywhere in the library, some of them may still cause harm if read by students yet to finish their basic courses here at the Lyceum. All right, I just wanted to be sure. Off with you."

Leaving the classroom, the conversation reminded Martel of the book title in Archean he saw in Master Fenrick's chamber. Obviously, he could not ask this particular teacher for a translation; in fact, asking any member of the faculty might lead to awkward questions and a reprimand for snooping. Luckily, he did have a friend who seemed skilled in the Archean language.

Yet when he tried to find Eleanor at the meals, he had no luck; when he knocked on the door to her chamber at different hours, none responded.