Walking around the halls I looked over the canvases again, maybe paintings this big were just a waste of money. They must have been pricey. Even if Eeming had the money, he could have done anything else with it.
A painting of his son or a painting of Yule fighting for humanity against Kivar, maybe, if he was a religious man but tons of landscape portraits and animals?
Maybe I just don't understand 'art'. Did he have other things than just paintings? A statue or sculpture? I wasn't sure what the difference between these two was or if they are the same thing. There must, surely, have been a difference that I didn't know about.
Descending the long stairs down to the main hall I saw that the servant was already waiting.
"Are we going to wait here?" I asked.
"No, that is not befitting for a guest, please follow me into the dining room," he walked into the room behind him.
He pulled out a chair and gestured me to sit, "would you like something to eat, maybe some light refreshments?"
"Something to eat would be great, if it doesn't bother you," I haven't had a real meal today. I didn't want my stomach to growl when Eeming and I would be on the road.
"Of course. We already have something prepared. What is your drink of choice? Water, juice, wine, beer, tea?"
"I'd like to try tea," and just like that, a maid with a tray came into the room.
She put a plate, spoon, fork, knife, and a cup on the table, poured hot water into a cup then left.
On the plates were bread, a bright yellow custard, and a piece of chicken. I tried eating and drinking with grace.
The whole time the servant stood with some distance behind me. I turned back my head, "would you like to sit down?"
"If you'll allow me," pulling out another chair he sat down, there was some distance between us. "Would you like some tea?" I suggested.
"Yes, thank you," he snapped his fingers loudly, and the maid from before brought another tray with more tea.
I watched him take a sip.
"Thank you for the clothes. They must have been expensive."
He waved it off, "little expenses like this are very well in the budget of the Master. But you could thank him for them personally later."
"I should. Are you a mage too?" I asked.
"No", he shook his head. "I know a little bit about fire magic and can heal light wounds but that's it."
I too took a sip, "how long have you been with the Magister?"
Before he could answer someone fiercely yelled in a drawn-out manner, "VAUNNNNN."
It was Eeming in the main hall, the servant, whose name must have been Vaunn, shot up and in a split second was right by his side.
I could hear them from the table, "yes?" "Ah, there you are. Is he ready?"
"Yes, he cleaned up, received new clothes, and is eating something right now."
"Hmm, how far along?"
"Almost finished."
"Great, can you guide him to my study after he's finished?" He looked over into the dining room and gave a friendly wave of the hand.
Vaunn nodded, "of course."
After I had finished eating, the servant escorted me through the halls and when we reached our destination he gestured me to enter the room. Eeming was already waiting there, sitting on a chair next to a table that almost spans the entire room from side to side. He just finished sorting some papers. The study had a lot of shelves full of books, looks like he was a collector of them. There were more paintings of landscapes and people I didn't recognize and there was a banner of the same dragon he had on his coat but this one had a much higher quality to it.
"Take a seat," he pointed to a chair opposite to his across the table.
From a drawer he took out a small knife, "I hate doing this to my sharpener but oh well," he cut his finger so there was a clear but small cut. Holding it out he asked, "can you heal this?"
From what Vaunn told me I had already picked up that healing was another thing mages could do.
"Could you explain how I'm going to do this?" I asked.
"Take my finger and think of it being all well again or of good things while holding it. Also, visualize it in your mind."
The way he was trying to teach me was lackluster, to say the least.
I took his hand into mine. It didn't hurt to try. I wasn't sure what he meant by good things. First thought that it should heal. I took my hands off his, but the cut was still there. I tried again, this time I thought about things I liked, my parents, reading, fishing maybe? Because of the last few weeks, I didn't have many positive things in my head. He pulled out his hand and looked at it, "my arthritis is gone," he smiled, "just kidding but you did heal the cut.
"But how about this?" Eeming stood up and pulled an already boiling pot out from another drawer, why did he have one in there and why was it boiling already?
It smelled really bad but I endured it.
"This is a little something I cooked up just for this. It's an unfinished potion."
"What does it do?" I asked worriedly.
"Depends on your performance. It can range from strong effects of fear to unpleasant stomach cramps."
"Is this another test?"
"Yep."
Really? Another one?
I did three of those now and passed them all, "what do I have to do?"
"This is actually something for more advanced magicians. You have to pour out some of the magical power that is within you, into this here pot."
"How do I... pour it out?"
"Same as all other magic, just concentrate, visualize it and hope for the best. Go on."
I stood up from the chair and stood next to the pot that was on the table, I held my hand closely above it.
I could feel the heat of the steam that was coming from it, "it does come out of my hand, right?"
"Ehm... just 'feel' it coming out of your hand," his face looked unsure. As a distinguished teacher of magic, he should have more precise guidance for a novice.
I closed my eyes and tried to 'feel it' as he said. Okay, feel it, feel it, I breathed heavily in and out of my nose. I opened my eyes as soon as I really felt something. A translucent, light blue jelly-like substance, which shone on its own, came out of my palm.
If this what it feels like then it didn't feel good.
With a heavy "plop" it fell into the pot and mixed with the ingredients that were already in it, it turned from the thick viscous green soup into a thin white one.
Eeming and I examined it curiously, "what is it?"
"I don't know yet," he looked at me, "let's find out. Vaunn!"
The manservant immediately came into the room.
"Could you please taste this potion?" He hesitatingly nodded, "of course," he came closer and looked at it.
The Magister pulled out a glass from the same drawer he took out the pot and drew some of the potion into the glass.
I looked fearful at what it would do to Vaunn, but Eeming reassured me, "I would never let him get hurt on purpose."
With one big gulp, he drank it whole. Eeming and I looked with anticipation at what would happen but after several moments with no reaction, Vaunn defused the situation.
"Is this is... Milk? And it's quite cold," he said surprised, "Master Arno, a man your age shouldn't pull pranks like these."
We deflated like balloons, "milk?" Eeming suppressed a giggle, "you made milk or something similar to it. I'll have to write down this recipe or scratch that, you couldn't give me a precise amount of power you used, no?"
"Sorry, but I don't think so."
"Unlucky, if I just had weighed the pot beforehand then I could do it again and see."
"Do I have to do another test?"
"No, that's quite alright. But we finally should get going," following him, we went outside.
In front of the house outside the gates on the road was a carriage that looked like royalty would ride in.
I gave a quick goodbye to Mister Vaunn and as I was about to ask where my belongings were he had already approached me holding a pair of leather boots and while handing them to me he said, "already in the carriage. I hope you don't mind that I transferred the contents into something more... elegant. Look for a black backpack."
It was like he was reading my mind, "thanks," I waved him off and outside I heard Eeming already calling me.
It was quite a nice carriage, with smooth wood and cushioned seats. I never sat in one before. "How far is it to Dralett?" "Oh I don't know exactly," he mumbled. "Around a week?" he guessed. "And then YOU can become a Wizard. Zapping things with little bolts of lighting, heating your tea if it got cold, brewing potions of that make you more intelligent and with you being more intelligent you make better potions," he laughed roaringly. "Does it work that way?" I showed my skepticism. "Maybe, first we need to find a potion that would do that," he flung this arm around me and squeezed, "Exciting, isn't it?"
That did sound nice and the more he told me about magic the less I could wait to learn and immerse myself in the world of wizards. But I had to wait a full week, most likely more, to even get the first taste of it.
Eeming leaned out of the carriage window and banged on it, "off we go," he shouted to the coachman.