"So magicians don't actually build towers?"

"No, they do. Back in the early days, they were everywhere. It was a rite of passage; each magician would build their tower on their own, forming it into the purest expression of their understanding of magic. All the knowledge they accumulated would be stored within. But after the Mage Wars and the Dust Rebellion, most realized they were nothing but targets. So they changed where they were built."

"The in... Incar..."

"That's right! The Mental Incarnation Theorem. The great mages of the time pooled together their knowledge, and created a way to take something physical and store it in their mental landscape. They carried their towers with them. Later generations improved the theorem, to the point they created the tower entirely in their minds. They were no longer able to physicalize their towers, but instead tied their magic to it's foundations, making them immensely powerful. This lead to the Tower model we have today. Every mage builds their tower to be incredibly sturdy, because if you destroy a mage's Tower..."

"You destroy their magic!"

Dave smiled. The young elves were a joy to teach. They listened attentively, they asked questions, and most importantly... they didn't care he was human. Or for that matter, that he was a First - a one-floor mage. Firsts were often seen as rank beginners in magic, and he was old for a first. Not that that mattered; embarking on the path of magic did wonders for the lifespan. Dave wasn't certain, but would have put money on the elves not knowing that tidbit when they'd taught magic to humans all those years ago.

The chimes rang, indicating the time for lessons was over. Eylas was currently his only student, and based on the cold looks her parents had been handing him recently, soon he wouldn't even have that. Eylas stood up, and prepared to head out. Dave looked down to pack his things, when…

"I'm sorry." Dave looked up. Eylas' smile was gone. Instead, she looked nervous and sad. "I heard Father talking to the elder last night. He said-"

Dave interrupted her. "Nothing nice, I'm sure. You don't need to repeat it, it's nothing I haven't heard before. I'm a human teacher in the Elven Protectorate after all."

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She nodded. "I wanted to thank you for everything. I've never enjoyed classes, but you made everything so interesting! I want to hear more about the towers, and the Dust War, and magic! The other teachers are just so... so... boring! It's only theory and discussions about discussions, and why one of them was wrong! It's so... boring.

Dave smiled gently. "They care about the who and the what, not the how or the why. Never stop asking questions Eylas. You were one of my best students, and I'll miss our classes. You should hurry home; I'm sure the elder is-"

"Right here," a cool voice informed him from the doorway. Eylas made a guilty start, and hurried past Dave, head down. The elder let her through, then stared emotionlessly at Dave. "You know what I'm about to say... Dusty."

Dave hadn't twitched at that term in years. "I'll leave tonight." The elder didn't acknowledge him further, and left. Dave looked at the sun. It was nearly noon. He would need to leave immediately to make it out of the forest and into the free city of Meadowland before dark. Not even 15 minutes later, he was on the road.

Not even 15 minutes after that, he was surrounded.

Eight elves - Thirds, and one Fourth by the looks of it. Despite surrounding Dave, they talked amongst themselves like he wasn't there. "Shame about the last Dusty. He didn't last that long." "One less human won't matter, they breed like rabbits anyways." "Good riddance I say. A disgrace to magic. How many years, and still a First? I'd offer myself as fertilizer to the Mother Tree before I hit 200."

Dave only sighed, and set down his pack. The elves all turned to look at him now, eyes glittering. One of them spoke. "You humans ruined our home and killed so many of my people. My friends, my ancestors. This is justice, Dusty." They all started to cast a spell. Dusty looked at them. Looked up at the peaceful trees. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

Space solidified around them. Everything went silent. Then everything went dark.

--

The last elf - the Fourth - lay on the ground, gasping and bleeding. The others had died in Dave's magical darkness, trapped in by his walls of Force. Despite hurling magic blindly in their panic, not a single spell had hit Dave. The elf was terrified. Magicians could inherently see the Towers of others, and the man in front of him was clearly a First! His Tower was already capped, and couldn't even be built any higher. So why was his magic so terrifying? "How..." He croaked at Dave.

Dave only shook his head. The elf looked on in horror as his view of the tower shifted. The 'ground' fell away... revealing the rest of his Tower.

"Who said you could only build your towers up?"