Roland entered the Headmaster’s chambers without hesitation having been through this several times before. Inside, a host of magical knickknacks sat neatly arranged on tables, arcane tomes lay open on pedestals, and strange magical creatures lounged about in terrariums. The young apprentice found himself entranced by one cage in particular. It contained a small lizard colored in deep blues and vivid yellows and as Roland drew closer, it flashed out of existence. In the split-second it disappeared a bird of equivalent size assumed its place. He had no idea where the red and green feathered creature had flown in from. As he stared, a voice cut through Roland’s trance.

“Ah, I see you do have something in common with your fellow students. Most of them are equally fascinated by the Protjectus Flim. An extraordinary creature, to be certain. The bird you see, it isn’t real. The little fellow is simply concealing himself and the bird is his defense projection.”

Roland pulled his attention away from the cage and directed it to the source of the voice. The Headmaster.

Alan Vantris sat behind his desk his quill busily scratching across parchment as he finished up a scroll. He rolled it up and set it into an ornate bowl beside the desk. The scroll ignited seconds later leaving only ash behind. He turned his attention to Roland. The older mage looked over his wire-rimmed glasses with a severe frown but he couldn’t hold it long and it dissolved into a welcoming smile. He wore the traditional robes of midnight blue which Roland had learned represented a mages neutrality. It was the firm belief of most mages that magic was neither good nor evil, it was merely a tool. This core tenant of the school was one that Roland agreed with. Roland often thought that people don’t blame assassin’s blades for their foul deeds, so how could they blame magic?

Headmaster Vantris motioned for Roland to sit with him. “Roland, Professor Talzar tells me that you are being disruptive in his class. And considering the subject is Magical Ethics, or as I like to call it common sense, that is quite a feat. Are you so well informed that you can tell me what you would do when faced with a moral quandary?” There was a hint of mirth in the old mage’s voice. “Perhaps you already know the answer to the Fire Riddle?”

“Sorry sir but I don’t recall that particular problem,” Roland replied as he sat in one of the two chairs before the wide desk.

“The Fire Riddle, Roland, represents an ethical dilemma. Two paths are before you in a cave and a fireball is coming. Down one path is a single person and down the other path, there are four. You must choose which path the fireball travels; there is no stopping it. You must choose who to save. So, which is it?”

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“I-” Roland hesitated. He was used to quick answers. He absorbed magical knowledge like a sponge. But this question, there was no easy answer that he could grasp. “That’s an impossible question,” He said after a minute of silent contemplation.

“Indeed,” The Headmaster leaned back in his seat, “it is not an easy one to answer. But at least you are not so arrogant that you think you know what’s best. That, however, is the point of Magical Ethics my boy. So that you understand the dangers of our craft and the choices you may have to make in the future.”

Roland changed tracks going back to why he was initially sent to see the Headmaster. “I mean, I don’t see what that has to do with the debate of Listeners, Headmaster. Magic is supposed to help people, right? So why not use it to do just that? It’s not discrimination if everyone is monitored, and a normal person wouldn’t even notice that it’s happening so it’s not like it hurts them. It would make it impossible to commit a crime, at least not without getting caught, which would be a major deterrent. People don’t follow the rules because they’re good, they follow the rules out of fear of punishment.”

“Roland,” The Headmaster said with a gentle sigh. “The choices and decisions you make will have a lasting effect. Have you not wondered why you consistently find yourself the focus of your teachers? Or even your peers?”

The question, let alone the thought, had never occurred to Roland. He’d been so focused on his studies and his books that he hadn’t stopped to consider how the Academy treated him. He stammered out an impressive string of wordless noises as he replayed the last few years.

“No, I thought not. I doubt you even noticed,” The Headmaster said. “Well, the reason is because you are gifted, Roland. And I don’t mean a bit better. Even amongst us mages your abilities are extraordinary. You must know you have great power inside you. But more importantly, you have an even greater responsibility to use that power wisely...”

Roland’s mind became a blur of other memories. Professor Talazar, his most hated professor, drilling more and more spells into his mind. The ever-increasing pressure of his headaches from his studies. Nearly being dismissed from the school. And, finally, the blessed clam that he found in drinking. In turn, that calming memory allowed him to move past the slide show of his life. Onward to the spot in his mind he affectionately referred to as the Repository. As he mentally dove in, there was a sharp spike of pain that caused him to wince. The lack of alcohol made it more challenging than usual but he managed to find the spell he was looking for. He always did.

Yes, that will do nicely. Roland mused with a sly grin spreading across his face.