《Firebrand》176. Passive Relations
Advertisement
Passive Relations
Martel did not know what to expect for his first lesson with Father Andrew. But since it did not involve magic, he did not feel too concerned. Even if he did poorly, this could hardly influence his examination or future studies at the Lyceum. And he had enjoyed himself back in Engby, learning his letters with Father Julius. Perhaps this would prove to be a pleasant break from his more challenging classes.
Martel entered the classroom to find an old man wearing the white robe of the clergy. Bald except for a crown of grey hair, Father Andrew shuffled around the room to look in his direction. "You're the new student," the priest spoke with a creaking voice.
"Yes, master."
"Father Andrew," he said in correction. "I'm not some mage." He took a deep breath, which came slightly wheezing. "I am told to run you through the different subjects of knowledge and rectify where you are deficient."
Martel nodded a little.
"Sit down."
Having free choice, the novice sat down at the nearest table.
"Not there."
With no further directions, Martel chose another in the middle of the classroom.
"I thought we should start with geography. Tell me, boy, where are you from?"
"I'm from Engby."
The priest scoffed. "Not the name of some insignificant village. What province?"
"Nordmark."
"Then you should know this. What is the river that divides Aster from Tyria?"
"Frosten," Martel replied hurriedly.
"What of the river that separates Aster from Khiva?"
That one was tougher. He felt that he knew the answer, but nothing came to mind.
"Savena," the priest said impatiently. "Given that it may very well determine the outcome of our current war, you should know it."
Advertisement
"How does a river determine that?" Martel asked, his interest piqued.
"We might as well start there," Father Andrew mumbled and shuffled over to a bookshelf. He retrieved a large scroll and returned, unfurling it on the table. It showed a map of the northern continent, dominated by the Asterian Empire. "The Savena River flows here, with its wellspring in the mountains near cursed Archen and all the way south to the Emerald Sea." The priest traced his gnarled finger along a blue line on the parchment. "And here lies Nahavand, under siege by our legions." He tapped at a city lying by the river, halfway up the line from the sea.
"How does the Savena matter?"
"To reinforce our troops at the siege, we must sail supplies up the river." Father Andrew ran his finger from the sea and up the blue line all the way to the city. "That is why the Tenth Legion defends the delta. If the Khivans take control of the eastern hills, they may position their cannons to blow our ships out of the water."
Martel stared at the map, feeling fascinated in spite of the gruesome topic.
"You planning to join the legions, boy?"
"No, Father Andrew," came the swift reply.
"In that case, let's move on. What lies south of the Emerald Sea?"
"Sindhu."
"Good. Let me find the map…" Once again, old feet shuffled across the floor.
~
His lessons done, Martel had a bit of time before lunch. Sticking one hand inside his pocket to play with the rune token, he was reminded of a thought that came to him last night. He had possessed the small pebble with its symbols for many months now, yet he had no clue what it might do. In fact, it might have been a jest on Regnar's part gifting it to him; Martel would not put it past the hedge mage. But if Eleanor had begun looking into these symbols, maybe she would know.
Advertisement
He crossed the school to reach the girls' dormitory, going up the stairs to reach her chamber. Once he had knocked, she opened the door. "Martel. Something amiss?"
"No, not at all. I merely wondered, with your newfound knowledge, if you might know what this is?" Martel presented the rune token to her. It was basically a small stone, but with numerous sides like a die for some complex game of chance. Instead of the usual symbols for elements, crown, or a jester's hat, each of the sides showed a small Tyrian rune.
Eleanor picked it up and gave it an inspecting look. "I am not that well-versed in these symbols yet. I cannot readily give you much of an answer, but I can compare with my notes or take it to the library."
"Sure, as you prefer. It's not like I have need of it. I'm just curious."
"How did you acquire it?"
"Do you remember Regnar? The hedge mage who travelled with the actors' troupe."
"That rings a bell. He did seem like a fellow full of unexpected tricks."
Some less benign than others, Martel thought with annoyance, remembering how Regnar had tricked him into giving a performance while the street children robbed the audience. "By the way, what is your interest in runes? You never told me."
She gave a half-hearted smile. "Just looking for ways to get better at magic. These runes look like the passive sort," she continued, holding up the token between two fingers.
"Passive?"
"Roughly, runes can be divided into two kinds. At least, as far as we know. Some are active or rather activated, meaning their power lies latent until brought to life by the right word. Until then, they are just scribbles. Passive runes are imbued with magic at the moment of creation, on the other hand, and their power is constantly in effect," Eleanor explained.
"Regnar said something about this would protect me," Martel remembered.
She nodded. "That goes well with these being passive runes. Besides, it would be a worthless gift if the symbols required activation and he never told you the relevant words." She examined the token once more. "Though this might actually be one symbol that can be activated. Let me try." She mumbled a word that Martel did not recognise. Nothing happened with the pebble, and Eleanor grimaced.
"You alright?"
"Yes. Trying to use unfamiliar magic causes some mild discomfort, that is all. I had a bit of a headache after yesterday," she admitted with a wry expression.
"You shouldn't push yourself in that case," Martel cautioned her, remembering how it had felt when he had exhausted his magic at the Imperial palace.
"I will be fine. The lunch bell has already rung, right? You should go before all the fresh bread is taken. I will give this a closer look." She held up the rune token as she spoke the final sentence.
Feeling dismissed, with the implication that they would not be eating together or even walk to the dining hall together, Martel gave half a nod and left.
Advertisement
One Sin
A Dark Fantasy. Everyone called me an Assassin or a Thief, I never denied those things. All I wanted to do was save the Kingdom. I used to wish for fame and glory, I got that now. Just not in the way I expected. I didn't have the luxury of living a normal life anymore. I had to run, they would have never stopped chasing me. I became marked for death. My name is Demitri and my sin?... Very mature with graphic violence. Not for the faint of heart. 1500-2000 words per chapter. http://topwebfiction.com/vote.php?for=one-sin
8 123Pangea: A New World
What is the system? What is its purpose? Who made it? All three are questions that have been debated throughout the ages, and yet to date the answers remain unfound. However, some irrefutable fact exists. The system expands, grows and enables. The system seeks to expand its reach, grow its influence and enable those under it to flourish. A Beginners Guide to the System, Germain Fitzgerald This is a story not of the system but of an individual who suffers, flourishes and ultimately evolves under its influence. Follow the growth of Jacob Lockerby from a normal teenager granted access to a world of his dreams and watch as this previously ordinary individual becomes extraordinary. Herein lies the tale of he who would become a legend. Update Scehdule: Every Sunday 10pm GMT. I appreciate this is a rather slow schedule but this is my first attempt writing and I am doing this for fun while trying to juggle my final university year workload with writing this. I hope you stick with the story and feel the chapters are worth the wait. Lastly just a shameless beg but please do rate and comment, feedback is always welcome and will help me improve my writing.
8 202Flesh Forger
Born a bit too late to explore the world, yet far too early to explore space, Graham Lattem is your average 61 year old man - if a little wanderlust filled. That being said, he has a happy home, loving wife, children who check up on him, and a decent retirement fund to live out his golden years modestly. Then it happens. [System Initialization Commencing…] A trick of the light, surely. [Planetary Merger Protocol 331 Enabled] Rumbling can be heard in the distance. Shouts. Cries of anguish. A horrible, ear numbing crashing sound. An earthquake. A hole opens in the middle of his home, and our protagonist falls in as a swirling vortex consumes him. Mountains as far as the eye can see greet Graham as he opens his eyes. Well, and more glowing words: [Welcome To The Macrocosm] [Good Luck] Far away from his family in a world hell-bent on his demise, how will this old, arthritis ridden man survive? Did I mention he has cancer? ===================================================================== Aiming for at least 1 chapter every other day, though there is a very big chance it will more oftentimes than not be more than that! This is my first ever story. One that I’ve been wanting to write for awhile. The system is most definitely inspired by Randidly Ghosthound and The New World, but I promise the story is different! Please point out any mistakes, as I’d love to improve! Also the warnings are just to let me experiment.
8 204The Chosen
Every 50 years 5 individuals are chosen, at random, to receive gifts of power, oriented toward their interests, in order to shake up the world order. The only restriction being that they be loners, seperated from every day society so as to give them a chance to develope their new found power before those who may seak to maintain the status quo snuff them out. Jared Thorne woke to find himself gifted with the Game Character subspecies. Although starting out weaker than other chosen,past and present, his potential is far greater.
8 90Tris The Tinker
One night. One item. One last heist. After searching the world for clues and ingedients, Tris is one item away from crafting the Veil's most powerful artifact: an Infinity Potion. Good thing she knows just where to find one. The annual Flower Festival is coming up, and the guards protecting the Crystals will be celebrating as well. All she has to do is go to the festival, make some small talk, then slip away to grab the Crystal. Easy, right? When Tris's plan goes awry and a forgotten evil attacks the Festival, Tris must choose: the ultimate prize, or the lives of those around her. Tris the Tinker is a LitRPG short story set in the same Veilwalkers universe as Lost Archive. You can read more about Tris and friends in that book, which is on Amazon now. I hope you will enjoy!
8 1967FATES: CHAKHO
New parts every week on Fridays at 10PM ET*****It's the day of visitors.But the visitors to Sin-si are unwelcomed, vengeful beom.Unforgotten animosity fills the air and rage collides, soaking the ground with blood. Seven boys take up their weapons to end this fight, once and for all.7FATES: CHAKHO with BTS*****Content advisory: this story contains some violenceOriginal story: HYBECo-planning: HYBE / NAVER WEBTOON
8 59