- Chapter 9 -

"The Great Balthazar Blake! {...} My best friend..."
~ Maxim Horvath

Since Maxim was a year ahead in terms of apprenticeship to Balthazar, Merlin had to teach his newest apprentice in the most limited of time that he could. Besides, he needed to get the boys to work together, and it will only complicate things if one of them was to be too advanced than the other. Also, he couldn't compromise Maxim waiting for too long to learn a new set of spells. The sorcerer was quite aware that, even at an early age, his first apprentice wasn't quite a patient lad, so he had decided to keep the teenager busy with the basic studies, such as Languages, mathematics, and the like. In which case, that was what Maxim doing at the moment in the library.

The fourteen-year-old was busy trying to solve the complex mathematical equation that Merlin gave him. Although he was at least able to reach half of the required solution, Maxim needed more time to actually finish the whole of it. He then frowned heavily on the written numbers, tilting his head to one side. For a moment there, it was as if he wasn't so certain anymore on what he was working on.

All of a sudden, he heard the library door opened. Shifting around his seat to see who it was entering, he found that it was Balthazar. He wanted to greet his new colleague but, after seeing the look on the blond boy's face, Maxim thought that perhaps it was one of those bad times again.

He waited for the blond to take the seat beside him before asking in Hungarian, "Általános gond van a tanterem újra?" (You messed up the training room again?)

Looking up to the older apprentice, Balthazar only sighed and reply with, "As usual."

It has been a week since Balthazar had started his training with Merlin. Although the ten-year-old had managed to master a few spells, he was still having trouble with having control on his plasma balls. Well, if not control, perhaps it was more the aim.

"Perhaps it would help more if you know what you're actually aiming at," said Maxim, having a recollection of the last time he ever studied in the training room where Merlin was in the middle of teaching Balthazar under the Circle. The thing was, when Balthazar tried to conjure up another plasma ball, the charged particle of energy almost hit him. It was unintentional, and he was at least able to shield himself from the attack spell with his sword, with the ball bouncing back and forth from the blade then to almost every wall of the room before finally stopping to hit a portrait of a younger version of Merlin, and with the entire room left as such a mess.

"I'm trying," said Balthazar, sighing heavily while reaching for his own quill and dipping it into the ink pot. He then busied himself with the homework Merlin gave him last.

An awkward silence came between them before Maxim was able to speak to his colleague once more.

"Look, you'd eventually get it right after a few more tries. Besides, you and I both know that Merlin doesn't expect us to perfectly cast spells immediately after he taught it to us."

"A few more tries meant spending more time," replied Balthazar rather quickly, once again looking up to the teenager. "Time that you should have been spending in learning more new spells than waiting for me to reach your level before the master get us to work together."

"Who said that you needed to reach my level before we can work together?" asked Maxim, gesturing a hand to the blond boy then to himself. "What Merlin is trying to do at the moment is to help you prepare yourself before working, or even training, alongside me."

For a short moment, Balthazar stared up to the older apprentice with a blank expression on his face. Then, he wasn't able to hold back a smile, while making a silly face. It was because of the fact that he only got to hear such reassurance from his brothers, but from his colleague? It did came as a pleasant surprise, although he'd be lying if he say he wasn't expecting it. They were friends after all.

"Köszönöm," was all Balthazar murmured to his friend, as he went back to his homework.

Though Maxim looked as though he had no idea what his friend was thanking him for, blinking at the blond for a few times, he eventually ended up smiling subtly, and punched Balthazar very lightly on the shoulder, before he himself went back to once and for all finish the equation he was still working on.

A long moments of silence befallen between the two apprentices before Balthazar spoke again.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?"

The question was something Maxim hadn't expected at the time, but as he thought it over, he settled with the thought inside his head saying, 'Of course he'll ask you about it.'

The older apprentice sighed heavily, glancing briefly towards his colleague before looking back down on his work.

Tomorrow, Balthazar and him was to go to the house of Blakes, where, as Balthazar had told him already, he would finally meet the blond's parents. Whom, of course are, Sir Frederick Blake and Lady Nicolette. It wasn't the first time that Maxim was to meet nobles but, to be actually invited to come was a different matter to consider.

Maxim swallowed before answering. "I don't know Balthazar. What if they come to the point that they don't like me as your friend at all?"

"Believe me," said the blond boy, trying to reassure, "there is nothing they could possibly see in you that would make them think that."

"But you don't know that," the older apprentice said. That was when Balthazar's expressions turned soft and rather sad.

"Please, Maxim," he started slowly, intently looking deep into his colleague's dark eyes. "This is very important to me." He was telling the truth. "You're the very first friend that I have that I could actually introduce to my parents. Like what I told you a year before when we first met, I never had real friends. And my parents? They have been trying to at least give me one. Now that I've actually found one," he gestured a hand to Maxim, "all by myself, they wanted to at least set eyes upon you. They are my parents after all."

Maxim looked away from the blond boy once again. It wasn't like he didn't want to meet Balthazar's parents, he was just worried that they'd find him as a bad influence to their son, or something in the like. He knows and was quite aware of it, that he's not entirely the good-boy type. He was more the trouble-maker-and-mischief-written-all-over type. Besides, Balthazar is a noble, and he...well, although Balthazar said that wasn't the matter, but still...

When Maxim once again risked to look back to Balthazar, he saw the blond boy making those puppy-dog eyes with his blue and grayish eyes, and was also slightly pouting his lips.

'Oh please. He didn't have to do that,' thought Maxim to himself, rolling his eyes. "Alright, stop that! Don't give me that look!"

Balthazar made a silly face to his colleague, smiling out of more to himself. He had been using that look to make his own way with his brothers. He wasn't quite expecting it but, it worked on Maxim same as well, with the very same reaction.

"You know well that I don't quite have a choice already at this point," the older apprentice continued. "Merlin already gave his consent and we'd have to leave tomorrow already. So one way or another, I'd have to come."

"Wonderful," said Balthazar, slapping a hand on Maxim's shoulder. "By the way, you have anything formal to wear?"

Maxim held Balthazar's gaze for a while, and yet the only thing that came out of his mouth was, "Uhh..."

From head to toe, repeatedly, and for the last fifteen minutes that had passed, Maxim stood in front of the whole-body mirror inside Balthazar's room, carefully considering himself.

He had his dark hair combed neatly, a sight he had never thought he'd ever gaze upon again after that time he turned twelve. Also, he was wearing a black tunic, black trousers, and black shoes, all clothing of which that are not his, but of Benjamin's old ones. And by Benjamin, yes, meaning Balthazar's eldest brother.

They were inside the Blake residence, it was night already, he was invited for dinner, and he had to wear something formal. Only problem was, he didn't have any such clothes as to count for 'something formal to wear'. Luckily for him, the ever so thoughtful colleague of his thought that perhaps big brother's old clothes would do fine. But it wasn't Balthazar whom picked out the clothes, it was Maxim himself. Black wasn't his first choice, and there was a wide array of different colored tunics inside Benjamin Blake's closet, but Maxim didn't feel like wearing blue, or green, or gray, nor did he felt wearing white. So he ended up choosing the black tunic, ornamented with different symbols in light-gray lines. In truth, he wasn't certain whether he does look good in it, and that's what he was so worried about. Could wearing black be too much, or not so suitable?

A knock on the door came that at least was able to get Maxim's attention off the mirror.

"It's me," came Balthazar's voice from the other side of the door. "Are you done?"

Turning to face the door, Maxim decided that perhaps he should just ask his colleague on how he looked. "Yes, come in."

The door opened, revealing Balthazar dressed in a blue long-sleeved shirt ornamented with gold designs. The ten-year-old was also wearing a belt around his waist adorned with a bronze buckle, and to complete his attire, he wore dark brown trousers and brown boots. His blond hair well-combed, same as Maxim's.

"Whoa," Balthazar said almost in a whisper the very moment he set eyes on his colleague.

"How do I look?" asked Maxim, extending his arms to his side to indicate to himself.

"You look good in black," answered Balthazar, having no sarcasm in his tone, really meaning what he said. "You have good taste."

"Oh." The older apprentice didn't know how to react. "Thank you, I suppose."

"I meant it!" said Balthazar, thinking that perhaps his friend didn't believe him.

"Yes, I know" reassured Maxim. "Just, a little nervous."

"Nervous?" Balthazar snorted out a short laugh. "Who? You?" He reached out a hand as he approached the older apprentice, only to end up patting his dear friend on the shoulder. "I'd say you were lying but, from that look in your eyes? Here's my only advice: Deep breath."

Taking in Balthazar's seemingly good advice, Maxim did took a deep breath. He tried to feel every inch of his chest rising as he took in as much air as he could through his lungs, then letting it out into a long, almost shaky, exhale. It was then the first time he did took note on the blond's attire.

"You look good yourself."

Balthazar briefly glanced down at his clothes, returning his gaze immediately to his colleague. "I never did like wearing such clothes. But I have to, you know. There's nothing I can do about it. Personally, I'd prefer just wearing simple clothes. But enough of that. Let's to dinner."

The two apprentices then went out of the room, making their way to a hall, down a spacious staircase covered with a scarlet-colored rug with designs of yellow flowers, (what kind of flowers, that all depends on the beholder), and passing through another hall where solo portraits of members of the family hung on the walls. Maxim had no idea if either the portraits starts all the way from the first generation of the Blake family, but he didn't mentioned a thing on it to his blond haired colleague. Until finally, they reached the nine-feet high doors to the dinning room.

Maxim took in another deep breath before Balthazar reached for the knobs, and opened the doors...

"So, after your father died, you weren't able to go back to school. Isn't that right, young master Horvath?"

Maxim looked up to Lady Nicolette, swallowing every bit of food in his mouth before answering.

"Yes, milady," he nodded.

It was perhaps the seventh time, (he wasn't certain anymore since he lost count on three), that he answered with that same line. When will he ever come up with another different line, perhaps never until the night would be over.

"And you were home schooled by your mother ever since?" chimed in Frederick.

At that time, Maxim was at least thankful for two things; 1) Neither of Balthazar's brothers were around, (Benjamin was sent to a mission somewhere in another town while Bartholomew won't be coming home until his home visit at weekends from his studies under Lord Lieven, one of the well-known professors in the kingdom); and 2) The lord and lady of the house of Blakes were truly not that bad.

"Um, yes, mi-lord." The dark haired apprentice cursed to himself in his mind.

"Don't you have any better reply than that?" a voice from the back of his mind scolded at him.

'Oh shut it...' he replied silently to the voice.

"And he is rather smart," added Balthazar sitting just across Maxim.

The sitting arrangement was rather planned already for four persons, considering that the table was enough for six people. Sir Frederick seated at the head of the table, of course, with his wife seated at his left, and Balthazar was at his usual chair, which was at his mother's side with one empty seat in between.

"You have been rather talking well about your friend for the last couple of minutes we were all seated here, Balthazar," said Frederick, having a drink from his goblet. "I doubt whether young master Horvath agrees with everything you say, though." The knight risked to wink at the dark haired teenager.

"Oh, but I doubt whether he'd even liked it if I say any bad things about him," replied Balthazar, smiling, with every intentions to jest.

"Well, there is not much bad things to tell, is there?" said Nicolette, giving Maxim a knowing smile.

"I only hope not, milady," replied Maxim, risking to take the moment in returning the smile.

"Only because there is more than enough to tell," came that voice again.

'For once, even just for tonight, will you leave me alone?' and yet once again, Maxim tried to hush it.

"You can't get rid of me, Maxim. I'm your conscience."

Mentally rolling his eyes, Maxim was already getting tired of the one-sided argument. 'Thought I never had one...'

"Alright, perhaps not a conscience, just a voice in your head who has a penchant in annoying you." The voice sniggered at him.

'Thank you, but I had figured that out all by myself. Now, do you mind? Go away!'

"Let me hear more about this swordsmanship of yours, Horvath."

Frederick's voice was enough for Maxim to forget, and completely ignore, the annoying voice inside his head.

"Why, certainly, mi-lord." He straightened up in attention on his seat. "What is it that you'd want to know?"

"Have you ever tried parrying with my son?" asked the knight.

Maxim thought about it for a moment. "By 'parrying', sir, do you mean, a friendly duel?" The knight only nodded. "Well, me and Balthazar had never thought about that." He risked to look at his colleague.

"I'm never able to teach this boy more properly," said the knight, gesturing a hand to his son before having his attention back to the teenager. "Now that he would be living with Lord Merlin as an apprentice, I doubt whether I'd have time to teach him at all. It's a shame. It has been a tradition in our family for a father to teach his son with the sword."

"Are you asking me to teach him myself instead, sir?"

A smile suddenly crossed upon Frederick's face. He was impressed. "You catch on quick, lad."

"I told you he's smart," said Balthazar to his father, though his gaze was on Maxim.

"Would you be willing to teach my boy?" asked Frederick, his brow quirking a little.

There was a quick hesitation, as Maxim felt a cold sweat ran down from his right temple, all the way to his jaw. There was something from the way the knight looked at him that somehow made that nervousness he was feeling resurface once again. He swallowed hard. "If that is your wish, sir."

"Take it easy, lad," Frederick smiled pleasantly. It was as if he could feel the teenager had become uneasy around him all of a sudden. "'Tis merely a request, not an order."

Chuckling nervously, Maxim wiped away the cold sweat off his jaw. "Perhaps it was your eyes, mi-lord."

"Frederick, I told you, stop making those looks because you're only making the lad nervous," said Nicolette, out of being so silent for a moment.

"Are you always this honest?" Once again, the knight took a drink from his goblet.

"No, mi-lord," answered Maxim. "It's just that, I'm a bad liar."

The knight nodded once more, placing back his goblet on the table. "So, you'd teach Balthazar, either way?"

"I suppose so. I see nothing wrong with the idea."

Clasping his hands once, Frederick sat up more straighter on his seat, a somewhat flash of delight shown on his blue eyes. "Good lad. Balthazar, you have a good friend with you."

"Father, please stop referring to Maxim as my friend."

Looking up to the ten-year-old from where he had went back to eating his food, Maxim was a little surprised from what he heard.

"Then what else should you call him?" asked Frederick to his son, a question Maxim himself had in mind.

Balthazar smiled broadly, then, slowly turning his head to his colleague, he said, "He's my best friend."

Feeling his eyes suddenly widened by those words, Maxim quickly looked down on his plate, smiling to himself.

A best friend...Not bad...Not bad at all...