Chapter LIII: Apprentice

(Minthara's pov)

As Davos, followed by a couple of palace guards goes to ensure that my siblings are taken care of I find myself walking through the halls of the Blue Palace aimlessly, still stunned by the sudden changes in my life and the ease with which the nobility can decide to bring said changes.

I am not foolish enough to believe that they should all suddenly start giving out their wealth randomly, I was raised to be smarter than that, but the way the palace's Steward merely shrugged his shoulders and wrote up a writ for apprenticeships for all of my siblings left me completely stunned.

At least they now had a future, something I wasn't so sure I had myself. Even if he didn't ask for it I already owed that damned elf way too much.

*Sigh* Better get on with it then.

I make my way back to the gardens and notice that most of the guards are gone, while the two mages are still at the pavilion talking animatedly about something.

My curiosity gets the better of me and I walk quietly while making sure I am out of their line of sight, just when their words are about to become intelligible the flaming head of a bird pops out of the nearby bush, somehow not setting it on fire and suddenly stops as its eyes meet mine.

"Ah my first follower!" the bird chirps loudly "I knew you would find your way to me again!"

Divines have mercy...

"Scorch what are you doing in the damned bushes?" The annoyed voice of the so-called Flame-tongue breaks our little staredown.

"Oh shoot." The bird flinches "Well, off I go." and with an insane burst of speed it flies away toward the Wizard's tower.

I turn to see the Court Mage duo giving me amused looks.

"I am really going to need to teach the little shit some discipline." the elf mutters, annoyed.

His partner giggles "Isn't your familiar made directly from your soul?"

He sighs "Yes, and I know how annoying I was as a child. This world cannot deal with two of me!"

"Well then maybe you shouldn't be letting him out so much." She looks at me and her lips twist into a thin line "It appears your next pet project has just arrived. Well then, I am off to listen to Erikur and Bryling bicker for the one hundredth time today."

He chuckles and throws his hands up dramatically "Oh, woe is me that I cannot accompany you to such a riveting experience."

The Breton lets out an amused breath and leaves while shaking her head.

Flame-tongue turns back to me "Come on then, might as well get started early." and signals for me to follow.

"Start what exactly?" I ask cautiously while falling in behind him.

"Why your education of course!" He grins.

I blink "Why would you even bother with educating me on anything?"

He turns his head back my way "I did tell you I recruited you for your potential right?"

My eyes narrow "Yes, and I like any other sensible street rat call bullshit."

He giggles, actually giggles! "Heh, a street rat." almost as if considering some personal joke.

"Are you going to tell me what you want from me or not?" I ask again, a bit more forcefully this time.

He stops and takes a deep breath "I will explain everything once you are skilled enough in combat, explaining anything at the moment would be counter-productive."

*Groan* "Why do you insist on continuing this mysterious act? You want something from me so just tell me already!"

He sighs "I already told you, I want you to learn from me. That is all."

"But for what reason?" I insist.

He tilts his head to the side "Does it really matter?"

"Of course it does!" Is he kidding?

"Hmm..." He cups his chin between his fingers "But does it truly? I already helped you, and I am offering you the opportunity of a lifetime." His eyes narrow "I have been exceedingly tolerant and patient with you, even after already helping you immensely, so for the last Tribunal damned time, be. fucking. patient."

As he speaks a bit of his magical presence leaks out, and even to my untrained senses it feels like a mountain is looking down at me. My knees shake and I nod quickly hoping the feeling would go away. And so it does as if it was never there.

"Right." He drawls, much less humor in his voice this time "Follow me and we shall begin."

He leads me toward the mage tower, but instead of entering it we move behind it to a small courtyard overlooking the giant cliff the palace was built on, there were multiple damaged targets and a couple of ornate standing tables dispersed haphazardly around it.

As we enter he spreads his arms welcomingly "This shall be your home away from home for the following months, I will teach you how to sling spells like the best of them and someone else will get around to teaching you how to fight. Speaking of, do you have a preferred weapon?"

I blink, this is all moving way too fast "I know how to use a dagger? Maybe an axe?"

He nods to himself "We will have you try everything and see what sticks then." As he says this he claps his hands "Now for the fun bit, what do you know of magic."

"Ummm... I can set a small fire?" I say uncomfortably.

Once again he nods, this time in satisfaction "Good, I won't have to go through the tedium of teaching you how to use your Magika." His eyes glow as he looks at me "Speaking off... huh apparently your Altmer blood is good for something at least, you have a bit more than your usual novice I would say."

I hold back a groan.

He pulls out a book from somewhere? And starts flipping through it, I hear him mutter something about an 'aeromantic affinity' but that is all I get before he slams the tome shut and turns his attention back to me "I will give you the choice of what you want to start with, Nords are usually quite capable with ice magic, but you seem to have a good connection with the winds as well."

"How do you know that?" I cannot help but ask.

He shrugs "I guess I don't mind you knowing, I can quite literally see magic."

I blink "That must be... handy."

A bark of amused laughter leaves him as he pretends to wipe a tear "Handy she says... Girl, it is a literal cheat." he shakes his head "Not that it matters to you anyways. So what will it be, wind or ice?"

I shift uncomfortably, what do I choose? Is this some kind of hidden test? Is wind supposed to be rare? Or should I choose the easier thing?

(Reyvin's pov)

Hah. The way she is shifting around like she is making some kind of great life decision... It seems I have a replacement for Davos while he goes and drinks and whores himself to an early grave with his righteously liberated plunder.

A minute later and she is still overthinking it... Yeah, now it's just sad. I sigh "Just tell me what you think is cooler."

She stops abruptly and blurts out "Wind!"

I nod slowly "Wind it is. Very well, take a seat." I point to the grass and she slowly does so "Now what I want you to do..."

I go on to explain the most basic intricacies of wind magic and the alteration school, she seems to get most of it but some information still flies over her head.

Naturally, as one would expect of someone of her rather venerable line not even half an hour later a small gust of wind leaves her hand, her face is covered in sweat and her cheep clothes reek even worse than when she arrived first but a radiant smile adorns her face.

As she actually manages to cast the spell a girlish squeal of joy leaves her mouth, catching herself she abruptly turns to my amused gaze and flinches as if struck "You, You heard nothing!"

I slowly shake my head, a bit of pity in my eyes "I have burned into my memory."

"Nooo...." She whines.

I roll my eyes "Nothing embarrassing about celebrating your first step to greatness." I say patiently.

She nods slowly "I guess..."

The sound of steps interrupts any further conversation as a very battered looking Marco enters the courtyard.

"Failed to seduce an Orc brat?" I ask with a shiteating grin.

He groans "Not you too."

I shrug "If you didn't want to get mocked then you shouldn't come here looking like you went on a date with the entire local giant population."

His groan almost turns into a whine and he looks at the tired Minthara, as their eyes meet they share a look that only mutual victims might, he turns back to me "Who is-"

"The slum rat?" I ask.

Minthara glares at Marco, just as planned.

He flinches "Don't put words in my mouth." He takes a calming breath "I meant to ask who she was?"

"Oh, just my new apprentice." I say plainly.

Instead of showing any kind of jealousy or competitiveness he turns to Minthara, bows, and mutters a prayer to Arkay.

I hold back a snort as Minthara gives him a look of pure despair.

"Now what were you here for Marco, I remember quite vividly telling you there would be no lessons today." I ask after a moment of silence.

He waves his rather heavily bruised hands around "Could you please heal me?"

"Perhaps." I say slowly "But first you must tell me what kind of monster you tried to bed to end up in such a state."

A deep, tired sigh leaves his throat "I tried to help out in the slums-"

"And let me guess." I interrupt "You said something incredibly stupid that sounded mildly heroic to you at that moment and insulted someone who had a very bad day."

He blinks "How-"

"I have known you for longer than a day." I preempt the question.

His shoulders slump "Yeah, you are right."

I scratch my chin "Hmm, show me your progress with bardic casting and I will think about it."

(Minthara's pov)

The Altmer blinks at his teacher's? command "Could you not heal me first?" He almost whines.

Flame-tongue merely laughs "If you want to be worth anything in a fight casting while tired or wounded is a must."

Marco narrows his eyes "You just want to see me suffer." he says accusingly.

Without missing a beat his teacher responds "Yes."

With a nod to himself and a mutter of 'why did I even ask...' he pulls out a lute and turns to a target. He takes a deep breath and strums to string causing sparks of magic to form between this fingers and with a yell he launches what looks like a wall of pure force at one of the targets, ripping it at places but not destroying it.

"Again." Flame-tongue commands sternly.

Marco takes a deep breath and repeats the spell.

"Again." His teacher's tone doesn't change.

A lot more tired now Marco casts the spell once more.

And once more a cold voice commands "Again."

He makes him repeat the process twenty more times before he is satisfied. With a lazy wave of his hand a wave of gold washes over Marco and he looks as good as new, if you don't count the sweat coming off of his everything, that is.

Without giving the Altmer any time to compose himself his teacher speaks "Your channeling has improved but the volume is still too little, you should practice more."

Marco simply falls to the ground "Why not just enchant my lute as you said you could?" he mutters.

"Because that would defeat the point of the exercise." His tone turns from cold to lecturing "If you are assisted by enchantments at the early stages of your magic training you get too used to the boons they offer and end up almost incapable without them."

Marco nods tiredly from his position on the ground "Yeah, yeah, I get it."

"Then stop whining about it brat." His teacher snarks, and then turns to me "And you." His eyes stare at me intently "First, good work." The intense gaze suddenly shifts to an amused one "Second, you need a bath and some new clothes. I won't have my apprentice look like a damned street rat."

And without waiting for any response he starts walking to the tower.

I share one last suffering look with Marco and follow behind my new boss. I take a sneaky look at his face and note against my will that he seems rather handsome with his sharp and noble features, This would have been just like the stories if he wasn't such an annoying prat...

"Stop hobbling like I beat you to death and get moving." He drawls.

Definitely a prat.

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!ECIOJER ENIM EHT FO SREHTORB *meh hE* kcab era ew dnA

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