Bentham looked outside. It was beautiful. The sun touched the window, the breeze whirled around the corner, and tiny motes of dust fell from the ceiling. Sighing contentedly, Bentham sank into his chair, gripping his staff. He looked at his notebooks. Fifty pages each full of the same shield seal, but still no closer to soul-casting the spell. Bentham picked one up, opened to the first page, and started to cast. He touched the seal, pulled out a single thread of magic from staff, and shoved it into the seal. He reveled in how the thread twisted and turned as it shaped itself into the seal's form. Concentrating, he willed the effect to happen a foot in front of him. He smiled as the seal burned itself off the page and appeared a foot in front of him, forming a thin, bubble-like shield. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. 

Must be that new accumulator I bought, Bentham thought. Standing up, Bentham stretched and walked over to the door. Opening it, he found Mr.Gosweiler, his neighbor. Mr.Gosweiler was a retired battle-mage. Rumors were that Mr.Gosweiler was secretly a hundred years old, and was alive during the founding of the Empire, but they were probably just rumors made by the children to comment on Mr.Gosweiler's old, wrinkled face. 

"Hello Areliius," Mr.Gosweiler said. He had a habit of referring to people with their last name. "I was wondering if you" A loud boom shook the house. "Outside Now!" Mr.Gosweiler barked. Stunned into compliance, Bentham grabbed his staff and a notebook and ran outside.

In the streets, huge black capsules floated in the sky, throwing magic missiles. But, these weren't normal magic missile. They had a vaguely similar shape, but these missiles were solid, and when they hit, the mad a boom that rattled the earth.

Growling, Mr.Gosweiler slammed his staff on the ground. A seal snapped into existence below him and a spear of fire shot out and blew up a capsule. Bentham stood, mouth agape, barely understanding what was happening. Slamming his staff on the ground again, Mr.Gosweiler glared at Bentham, urging him to do something. Bentham snapped out of his trance and like, Mr.Gosweiler, slammed his staff on the ground and yelled "Arcanum Referundum!" Visualizing a spherical shield shooting out and slamming into a capsule, he ripped out five strands of magic and shoved them into the seal that popped up below him. A few weeks before, Bentham had experimented with shielding, and inscribed the seal for the spell on the staff. A small, white sphere shot out from this staff and hit a capsule. Suddenly, the world went black. 

Bentham woke up blearily. His head throbbed. Groaning, he looked around. There was a faint, gray fog hovering slightly above the ground. The sun barely penetrated the dark clouds of ash that had gathered above, tinting everything in a faint-yellow sheen. There were a few remnants of fire in some buildings, and the street was reduced to rubble. Mr.Grensham! Looking around, he saw a body on the ground, faced away from him. Gasping, he looked away quickly, as to try not to confirm his fears. Turning, he found his house a smoldering ruin. Tears pricked his eyes. His house. Everything he worked towards for the past ten years. Gone. Just like that.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Thinking of something, he jumped up, looking frantically for his staff. There, laid to rest on a stone, were two pieces of old oak wood, cut cleanly in half. As if weeping for all that Bentham had lost, the sky darkened and started to rain. The staff was the last straw. He turned an sobbed. He cried till there were no tears left to cry and no more wail left in his lungs. He sat like that for a long, long time.