Delving into the Old

Martel liked knowledge, and he liked acquiring it. Some of his best memories of childhood had been at the small temple in Engby, learning from Father Julius. Only when he came to the Lyceum and encountered teachers of different mettle had Martel understood that much of his enjoyment of learning was owed to the young priest back home, patient with questions and always quick with a kind word.

Father Andrew bore little resemblance to Father Julius, whether in appearance, age, or disposition towards students. But the old clergyman was not cruel, nor did he harshly berate Martel for his ignorance; at worst, he muttered and shook his head before undertaking his task of teaching Martel what every educated member of Asterian society ought to know.

"Given your spotty knowledge of history, I suppose that gives us free reins to start where we please. An overview of the Asterian Empire seems apt. If we have time, perhaps we can return and expand upon it."

"Yes, Father Andrew."

"Some eight hundred years ago, our corner of the continent fell under Aquilan rule. For the next five hundred years – are you writing this down?"

The priest had some notion that writing things down made them easier to remember. Martel did not see how, but he was not in any position to refuse. He grabbed his quill and began jotting down notes.

Satisfied, Father Andrew continued. "The Aquilan Empire lasted for five hundred years until struck by the ramifications of the fall of Archen, though historians will argue that this particular empire already suffered from many fractures, and the destruction from Archen's fall only hastened the inevitable demise."

Writing like mad, Martel did his best to keep up.

"Despite the Archean outpost known today as the Lyceum, Morcaster did not suffer as other cities did. In fact, using the Lyceum, the city was able to continue traditions of magic lost elsewhere in Aquilan territory. Less than a decade after Archen's fall, Morcaster declared itself an independent city and defeated the Aquilan legions sent to force it back to the fold."

The battle of liberation, Martel thought, thinking back on the spectacle during the harvest festival made by the Legio Urbis.

"Thanks to mageknights and battlemages, Morcaster easily carried the day, and Corvinus the First took the title as Lord of the City. Other cities quickly rebelled as well, tearing the Aquilan Empire apart. Two decades of rapid expansion followed where Morcaster took dominion over the former Aquilan possessions until Corvinus' son was crowned Emperor Lucius the First at the great temple of Luna in Aquila, soon after his armies had conquered the city. Subsequent emperors have been crowned at the Basilica. Now, the Asterian Empire rules as far north as the Frosten and as far east as the Savena."

Martel made sure to note the names and the dates.

"Got that? Good. Let us move to more recent events…"

~

Martel tried to sleep during the afternoon; both because he had been up a bit late, but also because he knew not to expect much sleep tonight. Unfortunately, his head was filled with thoughts about his journey through the Undercroft to the meeting of the Nine Lords – the same reason that he wanted to rest as much as possible while he could – and he did not manage to sleep much. At supper, he ate even more than usual, making sure to fill up. He dearly wanted to ask Maximilian to join him; having the mageknight at his side would make Martel feel so much better at the whole prospect. But even if his friend somehow accepted to accompany him to a meeting of crime lords, Martel knew that Kerra would not allow it. Her message had been clear if brief.

Not sure what to expect, Martel put on his leather armour meant for combat training. It fit underneath his robe, no outer sign showing that he felt he needed protection. With a woollen cap on his head to ward against the cold, he left his room. Passing through the entrance hall, he glanced towards his right at the dining hall where many of the other students still ate their evening meal. Somehow, it felt foreboding leaving the Lyceum; he had no idea what awaited him in the Undercroft or the meeting. But he could not tell anyone. To them, this was a night as any other. Steeling himself, Martel left the castle.

~

When he reached The Copper Drum, the noisy atmosphere felt like a stark contrast to his subdued mood. He made his way to Kerra's study, having received no other instructions. The guard outside in the hallway nodded as the young wizard approached, cracked the door open, and quickly said, "The Copper Mage is here."

"Let him through."

The guard opened the door wide and stood aside. Passing by, Martel entered Kerra's study. It looked the same, but the woman did not. She wore a broad-brimmed hat with a colourful feather, a bright greatcoat covering what appeared to be a dress judging by the edge sticking out by her ankles, and heavy golden jewellery in her ears, around her neck, and on her fingers. For a woman who usually wore practical clothes, it made quite the difference. "Forgive my attire," she said with a coy smile. "A meeting like the one tonight is like a flock of birds gathering to compare their plumage." She slapped the feather on her hat with a wink.

"It looks nice," Martel replied, not really knowing what else to say.

She got up from her desk. "I have something for you. Just to create a bit of mystery. Not to mention, it might keep you safe down there."

"Safe from what?" he asked.

She did not reply but simply took out a scarf. It had a slight glow, and Martel pulled back on instinct as Kerra tried to put it on him. "Trust me."

"What does it do?"

"Similar to your shield spell if I understood right," she explained, and he allowed her to arrange it around his face to serve as a mask. "There. Bit of magical protection for my favourite mage, and no reason for the Nine Lords to see your face when you speak."

"Thanks."

She winked. "The others should be ready. Let's join them." Walking over to Martel, she took hold of his arm and led him out into the hallway. "Unless you have muscles of stone, I notice a change in wardrobe for you as well." She squeezed the leather tunic underneath his robe.

"It felt prudent."

"No argument from me." They continued down the corridors, going into parts of the complex where Martel had never been before. "We will be a small party travelling together," she explained. "We don't wish to attract too much attention travelling through the Undercroft. It also helps to keep these meetings short." She laughed a little.

At length, they moved down a flight of spiral stairs to reach a basement or the like. Four others waited for them. Martel recognised all of them as someone he had trained those fivedays ago, though he had only really spoken with Wolfram and Sigrid. All of them wore full armour, including chain shirts with surcoats and helmets. Sigrid had her knuckles in the left hand for once along with a buckler strapped to the wrist, leaving her right hand open to draw the short sword by her side. She grinned seeing Martel while Wolfram nodded in greeting; the latter stood armed with an axe and a round shield.

Sigrid took a staff leaning against the wall and threw it to Martel. "The others say you are quite handy with one of these."

He caught it, hefting it in his hands. "Good enough, anyway."

Kerra smiled and turned her attention to a hatch on the floor. "Shall we? The Undercroft awaits."