I realized I didn’t know where to go, as I wandered the second floor of the villa. A few servants noted my passing but they assud I was allowed up here. Should I knock on random doors? Elora exited a room with a bundle of clothes and cocked her head at . “What room is the mage in?” I asked the young woman.
She walked with a limp toward , but before I could ask after her injury, she addressed harshly, “Follow .” The villa was large but simple to navigate. Two long, wide corridors intersected at the center, forming a cross. This created four wings, each lined with doors. I knew one wing had balconies that overlooked the training yards. Elora stopped at a door, gestured curtly and stord off with her load of sheets. I watched her go and thought maybe she had a bruise on her neck. There was nothing I could do to help her. I couldn’t even help myself.
After hesitating a mont, I knocked. A crisp voice shouted, “Enter!” Maybe it was the eagerness in the voice that gave pause, but I had no choice and pushed open the door. It was a bedroom, not a sitting room like I had imagined. There was only a single window and it looked out over the wall and into the small orchard beyond the walls of the ludus. The trees were currently barren of fruit and leaves. Mage Calida sat on the bed, rubbing oil onto her inner thighs. “It has been so ti since I spent so long in the saddle. Your hands are stronger than mine. Lock the door so we have privacy, and co rub out the knots.”
This is not what I had in mind when I thought I was going to beco a mage’s apprentice. She reclined onto her bed, her bare legs draped over the edge. Her dress at least covered her feminine parts. As I approached, she coughed. “You sll foul. I thought you were told to bathe!?” She sat up abruptly.
“I…I…I did. We are not given detergent for our clothes. I rinse them five of six tis,” I explained.
She waved her hand like it wasn’t a big deal. “Remove them then. I will see that they are washed in the future.”
I hesitated, studying the woman. She was maybe in her forties, slightly curvy with dark hair. Her hair was currently wet, but gray streaks showed her age. I left my loincloth on but removed my tunic. She studied appreciatively, causing to get self-conscious before lying back again. I started at her knee and worked my way up, both hands squeezing her thigh as I pressed on the muscle. My hands tingled from the oil as I massaged the mage’s thigh. It was sothing like the healing ointnt we had been given.
Mage Calida was not ugly, and before being abused, this might have stirred sothing in . But right now, I felt nothing, as I was nothing more than a slave forced to pleasure this woman. Mage Calida’s eyes were closed, and she let out contented moans as she directed back and forth between each of her legs. After nearly half an hour, of her commanding my hands, sotis asking for more or less pressure, she shuddered in bliss. I wiped my hands of the oil, slightly revolted but hiding it. “Shouldn’t I be learning the fla tongue spell? What does it do?” I asked.
The woman sat up after reveling in the fleeting mont of pleasure for her. She looked at my loincloth, likely disappointed I wasn’t awakened by her. She sighed, disappointed. She stood, straightened her dress, and walked to a desk. “You have never learned a spell form from a text before?” She asked directly.
“No, I have not,” I replied, sowhat grateful there would not be a continuation of my administrations to her. I already felt dirty and used.
She poured herself a goblet of wine and took a long pull before addressing again. “I will explain it in terms you can understand. Your aether core has a facet for each of your affinities, gladiator. Each facet can be inscribed with a single form. The higher your affinity, the larger the facet, and the more complicated the spell form you can inscribe.”
“How do I inscribe it?” I asked, confused and starting to sweat. It sounded like there was going to be a ritual where they cut open and carved the spell forms on my magic core.
“Intent,” she said sharply. “Most people inscribe a spell form based on intent and need. We will ensure your mind clearly understands the spell form you want before moving on to the need part.” She opened a folio and spread out four pages covered in interlocking curves, lines, and circles. There were only a few sharp angles, but to , it all looked like random geotric patterns drawn by a child.
“Fla tongue is a four-layer spell form.” She tapped the first page, “This sheet defines the length of the blade, this one controls the intensity, this one protects you from the heat of the blade, and this is what draws your aether through your fire aspect,” she indicated the last page with the simplest runes.
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“They layer like this,” she stacked all four pages. “You will not need to learn how to connect them; your core will do that naturally but you mind has to be able to picture each of these pages in detail.”
“But what does fla tongue do?” I asked, trying not to sound impatient.
The mage smiled, her age lines softening a bit. “A very flashy spell and one a mage would never learn. If your fire affinity is as high as Titus says, you should be learning a ranged fire attack, not a flaming sword.”
“Flaming sword?” I said, slightly excited. She rolled her eyes at my excitent.
“Yes, a flaming sword. When you activate your spell, fire will flow from your hand to form a blade.” She snatched one of the pages. “If you fail to imprint this layer of the spell, that flaming sword will cook your hand!”
The more aether you pour into the spell form, the hotter the flaming blade will be. Hot enough to lt your steel sword—but also hot enough to have substance. With enough aether, your blade can even cut through stone, and it touches the etheral plane. That ans no creature would be safe from you,” she said.
I didn’t voice it, but she was describing a lightsaber. A very hot lightsaber, but a lightsaber. “Can we get started then?” I asked earnestly.
“Of course,” she said, taking in my naked torso once more before lowering her eyes with a sigh. “I want you to copy all four pages ten tis before you leave tonight.” She pulled out stacks of blank pages along with a quill and an inkwell. Then she retreated to her bed and appeared to lie down to sleep. Since she was no longer close, I took the opportunity to dress before copying the pages.
By the end of the night, my hands were stained with ink, and the copied pages looked nothing like the originals. Mage Calida was softly snoring in a provocative pose, with her thighs squeezing a pillow and her dress riding up. Still, I felt no arousal for the woman. Was it my situation, or was it her? Maybe my body was just too exhausted to get aroused.
I left the room silently and stopped in the kitchen. The blue moon was bright tonight, and I didn’t need to light a lantern. I craved salt and went for strips of at smoking over the oven. I didn’t try to figure out what animal they ca from. They had been soaked in sugar, salt, and pepper for hours before hanging. It was chewy, sweet, and salty—just what my body craved. I washed it down with lemon water before heading back to my room. Joren would probably be upset to find half his jerky missing in the morning. I found out the following day, it had been horse at.
The days began to blur together again with my new routine. My mornings were filled with basic sword lessons and conditioning, while my evenings were spent learning complex footwork. That wasn’t all Tullus had learning. He was teaching flips, cartwheels, tumbling, and leaps—all of which were utterly useless in combat. I think most of the ti, he just kept increasing the difficulty of the acrobatics, so I would fall and get covered in dirt. At least he was getting so entertainnt out of tornting . Doing a backflip with heavy shackles on my ankles was not easy, and if I didn’t fully commit, I found myself eating sand. Realizing all the blood and sweat that had soaked that sand was sufficient motivation to put maximum effort in every attempt.
I decided the lessons with Mage Calida were not really lessons. I was starting to have my doubts she was even a mage. I had never even seen her cast a single spell during our lessons or when she watched the other gladiators train. She had lock the door when I entered every night, massage her “sore” back or legs for a ti before copying the spell forms over and over. There was no other instruction or variance in the task. At least she never asked to remove my clothes again, as I suddenly found my spare clothing being laundered by Titus’s staff. I was the only gladiator receiving such treatnt, and it was causing so jealousy. No one was dumb enough to try anything against . The entire ludus was tense with the upcoming auction.
Titus grew increasingly anxious as the exhibition auction approached. From what Joren explained to , I only had four weeks to learn fla tongue. I could see Titus talking with the mage, but she always seed relaxed and unconcerned, no matter how much he pressured her. He never thought to ask how my progress was. When there were only two weeks to the arrival of the First Citizens, Titi’s patience ended.
While I was copying pages, his ham fist pounded on the door. “Why is this locked?” Titus said drunkenly.
Mage Calida rose from a chair where she was reading and opened the door. “Yes, Centurian?” she said politely.
“How much longer?” he drooled out slowly. His face was red, and he was missing his eye patch.
“Everyone learns at a different pace.” She turned to . “So you see the spell forms when you sleep?”
“Do I?” I started to say, confused. “Yes,” I said in realization. I did see the lines and pages. I stared at them for hours every night they were burned into my retinas.
“See, he is making progress,” Mage Calida said.
“You said you could teach him in five weeks. I paid you what you asked. IT HAS BEEN FIVE WEEKS!” Titus growled out.
The mage brushed off the threats. “Well, we can move to more extre ans. Is your healing mage good?”
How co I didn’t like the sound of that question?
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