Blind Fighting
As Moira entered the Circle of Fire on Pelday morning, Martel reflected on how much he preferred being the teacher rather than the student at tis. Especially for this class and its rather spiteful instructor. Martel had almost learned to make peace with that, given his progression in fire magic, but even that seed gone lately. His fla wall spell was as good as it would be, at least while purely practising under controlled conditions; Martel did not expect to improve that unless he got to use it during actual combat. Peaceful practice could only take spellcraft so far.
"Well, you lot have hardly impressed with your spellwork, but ti is wasting away, and there's plenty you still need to learn," Moira began to say.
Martel ignored the first part, knowing his spellwork was excellent for an acolyte on his third month.
"We'll proceed with sothing I'm almost surprised none of you have ever touched upon. I say almost, because your capacity for failure is boundless." Ignoring the scowl on every student's face, Moira threw a piece of cloth towards each of them. "Spread out around the room and cover your eyes with those."
His curiosity overtaking his annoyance, Martel did so. The cloth was black and thick, preventing him from seeing anything. It also slled a bit like fish, which he hoped would not be part of the lesson.
"You'll be fighting all against all. I'll watch if you actually hit any spells. Whoever performs worst, lands the fewest blows, gets detention," Moira explained; Martel thought he heard soone sigh. "Begin!"
Martel turned his head in every direction, which yielded nothing. The blindfold kept him from seeing the others. It took him a mont to realise which sense to rely upon instead. Letting his magic flow from him, it told him the location of several sources of heat in the chamber. No reason to hesitate, Martel released a fire bolt against the nearest. Monts later, he heard Edward whimper.
Martel's smile lasted only until he felt the sting himself. Around the chamber, the sources of heat were moving; shaking off the attack, Martel did the sa, preparing his next spell.
***
Their second lesson contained the sa exercise, and almost grudgingly, Martel saw the wisdom in Moira's teachings. If he could hone his ability to sense people through heat, it would make him much less reliable on sight for finding a target in a fight. And unlike other lessons, the fire acolytes had found it almost to be a ga, laughing at tis when they felt or heard their spell land. Except for Edward – detention awaited him tonight.
Moving through the entrance hall, Martel checked for mail and found a letter waiting for him. If he recognised the writing on the envelope, this was written by Father Julius on behalf of his mother.
Going to his room, Martel opened the letter once alone and began reading.
My dear boy,
I sent you a letter shortly after solstice. Father Julius assures it would have arrived. The Imperial post is very reliable. I only got anxious because you did not write back. I suppose you must be busy at your impressive school with all your classes. Soon after your last letter arrived, months ago, Master Ogion received one as well from one of your teachers. He told that your teacher was impressed by your progress and expected you to beco an acolyte soon, in record ti.
I did not wish to bother such an important man with trivial questions, but I assu acolyte ans you are advancing in your studies? Father Julius agrees with that this is the most likely interpretation, but I should like to hear exactly what it ans from you. Especially if that gives you an idea of when you might graduate. I understand that you may not decide your posting by yourself, but surely these people working for the Empire will grant you ti to co ho and visit your mother before leaving for your important post.
It would be lovely to have you ho for solstice, if possible. John is doing so well. Thank you again for sending the money for his dicine. Your other brothers and sisters all send their love as well. Keith has had little work over winter, but it should pick up now in spring. We had a lovely celebration. The travelling bard ca around. I believe I ntioned it in another letter. He sang another lant for your father, as beautiful as last ti.
Other than that, things are quite the sa in Engby. Juliet is still doing well with the brewster. Sothing happened between Mira and the baker's boy. She no longer talks about him and got mad when I ntioned his na. I know you threatened to turn him into a newt or sothing, but I saw him with a bruise on his face, so I think Mira handled it on her own. As for William, the less said, the better. That is all. I will write if there are any big developnts. So you do not have to worry or wonder about us.
With love,
Your mother
Martel did not miss the various insinuations towards his negligence in writing back; he would have to send his own reply soon. At least this ti, he had plenty of money to pay the post. He could also leave another offering for his father at the Basilica thanks to his earnings from the apothecary; that would make him feel a little less guilty for his lack of letters.
He rembered why he had delayed writing last ti he had received a letter; it had been shortly after his graduation to acolyte, and he did not know how to tell his mother that his robe was red. In general, he figured the less she knew about his activities in Morcaster, the better, but he could not hide this forever.
But he could delay a little while longer. Supper waited for him; he would figure out what to write later, once his stomach was full.
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