Taleron is a planet of many great and legendary heroes. Figures who rise up from every possible background to achieve greatness in the face of strife and conflict. People who will sacrifice themselves for the safety and prosperity of their people. Warriors, priests, ranger, and the magically inclined have a long history of bring glory to their kingdoms, tribes, and villages. These are the adventurers who will stop at nothing to complete their holy quests or epic journeys. These are the sorts of people who bards sing of long into the night. These are the models for statues that tower over mere mortals to tell the world of their great deeds. These are the paragons of virtue that are held up in such high esteem that they are second only to the gods themselves.

But… this story is not about any of them. This is about a figure whose greatness is a bit more… subtle. This is a story about one of the first human magi. A figure of much controversy and drunken rumor. A man no one would call a hero. Not even his own mother. This is a story about one of the most infamous and yet least well known of the early Archmages. But before he was able to achieve such a grand title he was known by a much simpler name. And of course his self chosen last name that would spawn a host of misguided humans to try and take up this same mantle as a mark of pride and skill. This is a story about… Steve.

Steve Spellslinger

“Crap! Crap crap crap! Crrrraaaapp!” The apprentice mage was running across the barren and rocky plateau as quickly as his feet could carry him. As opposed to most other students and full fledged mages he forwent the traditional robes and comfy slippers for sturdy boots, pants, and a custom made shirt with as many pockets as could be fitted to it. Most important of course was the leather harness he wore over his shirt from which his spellbook was bound with a thick chain.

Right now the spellbook was in his hand and a large pack was bouncing around on his back as he ran. “Where is it?! Did I put it under M? Or T? Crap!” He didn’t dare look over his shoulder as he heard yet another roar and felt the ground shake under his quickly moving feet. When he felt the hot breath wash over his back he knew it was too close and he quickly raised a hand over his head. “Blink!” He shouted before blinking forward twenty feet, just enough to keep him ahead of the angry Cragtile chasing after him.

With his brief lead gained once more he went back to flipping through his spellbook desperately looking for the right spell. “Here it is! Of course, M with my other movement spells!” Even as he spoke aloud the ground kept shaking and he could hear the angry creature gaining on him once more. He spared a quick glance forward and saw the drop off as the plateau gave way to a sheer cliff face into a massive ravine. He needed to make this quick. He noticed that he was suddenly standing in a shadow and raised his hand over his head once more. “Blink!”

This time as he vanished and reappeared the Cragtile slammed a massive clawed hand onto the ground where he had just been standing. It seemed like it was slowly gaining on him so he really needed to make this quick. “Ah… ahh… what do I need… Gryphon feathers!” He reached into the appropriate pocket to pull out a few small white feathers. “Pixie dust!” The same hand pulled a pinch of the sand like material from another pocket. “Grind with grade two arcane water!” He let go of his spellbook then, letting it swing from the heavy chain then as he kept running. He used his now free hand to grab a small vial from the strategically placed straps on his harness.

Before he could mix the ingredients he felt the hot breath on his back once more and as the Cragtile roared he felt some of the spittle splatter across his back as well. “Blink!” He shouted as he raised his hand above his head. This time as he reappeared he was just at the edge of the cliff face. So he yanked open the top of the vial with his teeth dumped the water into his hand clutching the feathers and sand and then tossed the vial aside before slapping his hands together and quickly grinding together the reagents. Just as it turned to paste in his hands he lept from the cliff face as far as he could. Turning in mid air to see the twelve foot tall and thirty foot long rocky reptile chasing after him. But even as it swiped those rock rending talons at him he extended his hands, one finger raised each.

“Not today!” He shouted before completing his spell. “Abeo mihi! Ut enim ex floribus agri!” Everything around him vanished for a moment. Replaced with black for just long enough for his eyes to register the nothingness. And then he was in a field of wildflowers. Or rather… he was just above it. “Oh shit!” He cursed and twisted in midair before tumbling to the ground, rolling over and over as the momentum of his leap had carried through the teleportation. He lay on the ground for a moment groaning once he came to a stop and then slung the pack of his back as he sat up. He opened the flap and smiled as he saw the giant rock like egg inside was still perfectly intact thanks to its incredibly hard shell. “One down… three to go.”

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“This… is perhaps the worst idea I’ve ever heard.” Steve sighed as the ship’s Captain spoke down to him as he carefully balanced himself on the small raft being towed by the larger fishing boat.

“Trust me! It’s fine!” Steve assured him as he stood on the raft bobbing along in the ocean wearing nothing but a gem studded belt and some simple shorts that shouldn’t drag him down too much in the water.

“But… the demon fish are one of Ocenevicus' favorite creatures! He will surely smite you for killing them! And… I don’t even know how you plan on doing that in your underwear!” The Captain called back down.

“Demon fish? Please Captain like I’m really worried about some fish. Psh… demon fish.” He shook his head slowly.

“They’ve got razor sharp teeth, tusks, and horns! Not to mention their deadly on their fins and tail!” Steve just set his hands on his hips as the Captain tried to warn him again.

“I’ve done all the research I need to on the mala bestia piscibus Captain! Which are their true name I’ll have you know! None of this… demon fish. Anyway, I’m not worried about them or Ocenivicus because one, I’m an atheist! And two I’m not going to be the one killing them! Now dump the bait! I already paid you in advance!” The Captain of the fishing boat hesitated even then but he nodded and further up on either side of the ship the other crewmen were dumping over buckets of guts and fish flesh mixed in with some root of the Hydrangea. It didn’t take long before he started to see spiked fins rise up out of the water near him and the ship.

“There they are. May Messorisen have mercy on you when you reach the fields Letumis before the river Judius.” He untied the rope holding the raft to the back of the fishing vessel and the other fishermen quickly began to dip the boat’s oars into the ocean to pull them away from Steve’s now free floating raft.

“I’ll be fine!” Steve called out and shrugged. “Alllllright… time for part two of my amazing plan…” He didn’t even need reagents for this spell so he moved his hands and fingers into the pattern necessary before extending his hands to the skies and creating a giant beam of pure white light that reached up to the heavens themselves. Really all it was good for was drawing attention, which he wanted. Because he knew that two particular human gods just loved to watch over this stretch of ocean during the storm season.

“Hey! Fulaferris! You ain’t shit!” He called out then and watched the clouds for a moment. He saw a particularly dark cloud start to head his way. There he was. “Ah! Yeah you! You pathetic excuse for a god! You heard me! You ain’t shit! Here I am on a raft and I’m calling you out! All you do is make pretty little light shows! I can do that! I just did!” He grinned as the cloud got closer. All around him the seas were starting to get a bit rougher, the waves working up higher as he balanced on the center of his little raft.

“You couldn’t even kill a butterfly with your pathetic little hissy fits! You know that!” The cloud was getting closer and closer to being over him now and he could see the bubbling crackling storm just at the center. “Gods like you are why I’m an atheist! I’m a mortal and I’ve got more power than you ever will! And I’m just getting started! Hit me with your best shot you little sissy momma’s boy!” Just as the cloud moved over him he jumped off the raft then, tucking his knees into his chest as he clutched his legs to make the biggest splash in the ocean he could. For just a moment he saw the fish in the water near him and realized that maybe… maybe demon fish was a good name. But even as they started to move in on him, opening their mouths wide to show off those razor sharp teeth he was hit with perhaps the largest lightning bolt he’d ever experienced. And certainly the biggest he’d ever been personally hit with.

That’s when his belt glowed bright under the water and bolts of blue electricity shot out from the gems and through the water around him in brilliant arcs and flashes that he honestly had to take a moment and appreciate. As he swam back up to the surface of the ocean then he gasped for air and saw the bodies of the demon fish start to pop up on the surface, clearly dead. He looked up into the sky then and saw another large grouping of angry looking clouds. “Hey Ocenivicus! Your brother just killed a whole school of your favorite fish!” He looked up and sure enough the clouds directly overhead seemed to rotate towards the other storm clouds before they stopped crackling and began to move through the skies away from his location and the other giant group of clouds began to give chase.

“Stupid gods… So petty.” He muttered as he held onto the edge of the raft, the seas too rough for him to climb back on easily. Even so the fishing boat was starting to row back towards him and he smiled and waved.

“You are insane! You antagonize gods!” The Captain called back.

“They’re less powerful than you think! Besides I told you I’m an atheist! What’s the worst they can do? Hit me with more lightning? My teachers hit me with that constantly! Sometimes just for falling asleep in class! Now help me get this fish up on the boat! I need it for my project!” He was already thinking about the next reagent to go after before he could head back Aurbitas.

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“Heeeerreee piiiiggy piggy piggy pig!” Steve was wandering through the bushes cupping his hands around his mouth to try and help project his voice through the forest as he walked. “Faaatty fat pig! Heeerrre piiiigggyy pig! You shiteating fatty! Come get me!” He dropped his hands then and stopped as he listened but nothing sounded like a Felbreath Direboar to him. “Damnit… maybe I should have figured out what their calls actually sound like…”

He kept one hand on his book then to keep it from snagging on the branches as he walked along through the woods trying to think of a way to attract his third reagent. “Heeyyy fat stupid boar! I bet you can’t kill me! I’m talking to you stupid!” He called out but still didn’t have any noticeable results. As he reached a small clearing he rubbed a hand along his chin and goatee. Then he scratched the goatee a bit. It hadn’t fully grown in yet and was still itchy. He still couldn’t believe so many of his professors said that goatees were only worn by evil mages. A certain style of facial hair did not make one evil. Well… except for a Devil’s Beard but that was a parasite that possessed the host. It wasn’t the same thing.

Glancing around he picked up a small rock from the ground and hurled it into a bush across the clearing. “Yo you stupid pig come out and try to eat me damnit!” Then to his surprise there bush rustled and he froze for a moment, one hand moving to his dagger. But then he saw a simple direbunny jump out and he sighed, shoulder slumping. “Oh it’s just a direbunny.” The fanged animal looked at him for a moment before hopping on back into the bushes and he sighed, sitting on a nearby mossy rock.

He pulled a waterskin from his harness then, taking a drink before fastening back to its strap. Shielding his face he glanced up towards the sun to try and get an idea of its position. He should have plenty of time before nightfall but he’d been wandering around aimlessly for at least an hour already. The book had made him think that this place was simply infested with the creatures. Like if he threw a rock he’d hit one! Well he’d tried that and it hadn’t worked! As he looked around the ground he saw a strange purple and orange striped flower and reached down the pluck it. It looked familiar to him. When he tried to pull it up though he felt the roots were deeper than he thought. So he took a few minutes to carefully dig up the ground around the roots with his hands. Unlike most mages he had no qualms with getting his hands dirty. Literally.

Eventually the soil was loose enough and he could tug free the fat root of the flower. Once it was out of the ground he could immediately smell a heavy scent that was something like a mix of mint and orange with a hint of… pepper. He sniffed again and nodded. Some sort of minty, citrus, pepper smell. Why did this seem familiar to him? He tugged out a piece of paper he’d folded up and tucked into one of his pockets. “The Felbreath Direboar… blah blah blah. Oh right. One of their favorite treats is the pungent root of the Alquin Zebra flower.” He nodded at that and stood up, maybe he could use it as a sort of lure.

When he looked up he saw a creature on the other side of the clearing. The beady eyed pig with massive tusks and spikes along its back just stared at him for a moment. Just like the book said it was about eight feet tall, and five feet from shoulder to shoulder. Though from straight on he wasn’t sure how long it was. Steven stood perfectly still until he saw the orange and green furred beast let out a snort of green fel flame from its nostrils and then dropped the root as he yanked a dagger from his harness. “Haha! Die with a well thrown attack from my custom enchanted magic dagger!” 

He tossed the dagger across the clearing. It was a decent throw and was aimed straight at the beast’s face. But it bounced off one of the beast’s tusks, spun in the air for a moment, and then sank straight down into the ground. Unbeknownst to Steven his dagger killed a burrowing Diremole that had just been about to eat a Direworm. This Direworm would instead feast on the flesh of the Diremole and slowly but surely grow into the city ravaging Dreadworm Krizzakznits that Steve would later have to kill. But that’s another story entirely.

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Right now Steve was focused on the Felbreath Direboar who looked down at the knife and then up at him before it opened it’s mouth to let out a roar of Felfire breath. “Blink!” Steve was shouting as he vanished and reappeared on the other side of the beast. It snorted and started to turn but he was already running headlong into the forest. “Shiiiiiit!” He screamed as he brought up his book with one hand, trying to use the other to deflect branches ahead of him.

The obviously upset creature let out a high pitched squeal and began to chase after him while he frantically flipped through pages. “B for blast right? Uhhh uuhhh... Here! Leaf of the… got it!” He jumped up then snapping his teeth to bite a leaf from the Winterblossom Oak that thankfully grew in these woods. He grimaced at the taste but hastily began to grind it up in his mouth. “Mmhhh…” He glanced down the page and then tugged a piece of dried Yeti tongue from another patch. There Direboar squealed once more just behind him so he spit the chewed up Winterblossom leaf into his hand and raised it above his head. “Blink!”

He appeared right before the trunk of an old gnarled Steelbriar tree and realized he was trapped. But that was okay. He turned back to face the Felbreath Direboar that was slowly scraping a hoof in the dirt to get ready to charge him and began to mush the Yeti tongue and the leaf together as he popped open vial with his other hand. “Well you ugly fat pig get ready to fry!” The beast squealed and began to charge as he shoved the tongue and leaf mush into his mouth and tilted his head back to pour a vial of Neverthaw Ice Wine into his mouth.

His eyes watered at the flavor but then a massive blast of ice came shooting out of his mouth, turning the charging Direboar into a massive icicle which was still coming straight at him. “Oh shit! Blink!” He shouted and appeared on the other side of the sliding iceblock that slammed into the Steelbriar and then shattered into a few hundred pieces. Steve looked back at the chunks of ice and then down at his spellbook, opening it up to the page he’d been reading. “That… What? Oh shit the Firebreath was on that page… I need to label this better. Now my fry comment makes no sense. Yeti tongue, Winterblossom. How did I not get that?” He shook his head and walked over to collect some of the chunks of ice containing bits of the Direboar.

“Well at least it won’t stink up my pack on the way…” He muttered and shrugged. “If anyone asks I’ll tell them I told the pig to chill.” He realized this left him with only one reagent left and it should be incredibly easy to acquire compared with the last three.

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“The book didn’t say anything about potato worshiping pygmies!” He yelled as small arrows and spears whistled past his head. He was clutching a pile of yellowish green potatoes to his chest as he ran through the jungle. Ducking and dodging branches, vines, and the occasional pygmy warrior leaping out of a tree to try and either stab or club him. “You’re all lucky I’m in a rush or I’d kill that stupid monkey you call a god and set you all on fire!” He cried out and then gasped as he felt a small needle like arrow sink into his ass.

“Fuckers!” He screamed out but kept running. He really needed to get better at being stealthy. Or maybe tougher? No. Stealthy was the way to go. Probably. He’d find out one of these days. What was his plan? If he let go of the potatoes to read his spellbook then he’d throw away the very things he came here to steal! Get. Came here to get. Rightfully. No one owned these potatoes! Pygmies be damned! Was he near a cliff? A hill? He was in the mountains… there had to be something like that nearby. He knew what spell to cast from memory.

Where was… there!” He pointed with a finger at a parrot starting to fly away from all the commotion and shouted out. “Zipzap paddywack kill that!” The other students had thought he was insane to retrain an old spell with new words but he’d showed them! Now he just wish he’d made it sound more… well just not what he had gone with. Even so a small bolt of electricity shot from his finger tip, hit the parrot, and it let out a squawk before exploding in a puff of feathers. He’d sacrificed a bird now he just… He tried to shift the potatoes to one arm as he quickly reached back with the other to yank the arrow out of his ass. Of course many of the spuds rolled out of his grip and to the ground as he ran but he still had enough for his project.

Using the blood dripping arrow he quickly painted the rune lines into the air, the droplets of blood hanging in the air before him, glowing with power as he finished the symbols. Tossing the arrow aside he pulled a coin from his pocket then and flipped it into the air where it spun faster and faster before vanishing along with the blood runes in the air. Not all demonic spells involved human sacrifice and soul sucking. There were often alternatives that worked just as well. In fact he’d come to learn that lots of magic could be cast far more simply than they taught. It was just that so many other mages and wizards were obsessed with theatrical elements.

A pygmy warrior jumped out of bush ahead of him screaming and waving around a little club with bits of jagged obsidian jutting out of it. Without missing a step Steve just kept running forward and then stomped heavily on the pygmy’s head. Even as the violent little bastard got driven down into the ground Steve rose up into the air. With that he began moving his feet like he was climbing invisible stairs and rose higher and higher into the air until he was bursting out from jungle canopy and laughing as he leveled out and just ran through the air above the treetops. He could hear the angry howls of the pygmies behind him but with his windwalking spell they had no hope of catching him.

It wasn’t quite as impressive as a flight spell but it was a lot less taxing and it was perfect for a young mage who was just trying to spy in on the girl’s dorm window. The pygmies while angry and trying to toss their spears or fire their arrows at the mage running through the air were unable to hit him, and they were left with him calling out over his shoulder. “Suuucck mmyyy diiiicccckk!” As he quickly left them behind. This was it. He had everything. Nothing could stop him now.

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“Really? Really. You set up this competition and this is what you present?” Steve just smiled as Archcaster Ivelinus crossed his arms and looked at the table before him. “You’re competing against your instructors apprentice.” He never could bring himself to call Steve by his name. He supposed the elf didn’t think much of human names. “How do you think this possibly compares to what they prepared?”

“Yes I’ll admit it’s… uh… a bit… less showy.” Archchair Tirinia added as she tilted her head side to side as she looked at Steve’s offering.

“Ah, but you see my instructors have forgotten that this isn’t a magic competition! Sure you’ve had a cake that made itself and then cut itself into pieces for you. Or Instructor Nosik’s rather creepy spectral soup. Or even Instructor Kaswick’s turnip surprise! And yes… that was quite a surprise. They all used their magic in the presentation! All flash! No substance! I used my magic in acquiring my ingredients! So I present to you this very simple smoked lox omelette with lemon caper sauce, bacon, and herb crusted potatoes.” He waved at the five plates set up before him and the five members of the Magic Overseers Council. 

He knew that the council would just love his food and so he watched the two elves, dwarf, fae, and just whatever it was Archsorcerer Duskmaw really was. He wasn’t buying her elf body. His money was on dragon. They all looked at each other and then his food, and then him, and then each other again. Duskmaw finally stepped forward and used the provided fork to work a piece of the omelette free and then speared the small piece before putting it into her mouth. Her eyes went wide for a moment and then she let out a gasp before she did that… strange part growl part purr sound that was what really made Steve suspect she was a dragon in disguise.

“Oh… my… that’s… diiivvviiine.” She let out that growl purr again and then began to dig in. The others saw that and then began to try the prepared food as well. Steve just grinned wide as the council began to devour the meal he’d made all the while heaping his cooking with praise.

“That’s na’ possible!” Professor Rustbeard gasped out then from further down. “My magic chocolate menagerie never fails!” Crossing her arms in annoyance.

Steve just snorted. “Yeah well maybe next time you’ll tuck your beard into a hair net! No one wants lady dwarf hair in their food!”

“Wha?” The dwarf looked around shiftily then. “Wha makes ye think I’m a lass... “ She asked as she stroked her long rust colored braided beard.

“Well if you’re not then how come every weekday at the same time just before your afternoon tea you go to the ladies washroom on the third floor in the back corner huh?!” He asked and set his hands on his hips.

“Ah… why d’yknow tha?”

“Because I’ve been spying on you!” He said with a snort as if she should have known. “So are you a pervert? Or a girl?” His professor sighed then and nodded.

“Aye… Tis true. I’m a lady.” When she said that Instructor Ironsmith gasped. He was also the only one of Steve’s instructors who hadn’t agreed to the cooking competition.

“Ach! Ye are?!” Rustbeard looked over and nodded. Ironsmith tossed his hands into the air then. “Curse it all! I was sure yer wrong Spellslinger! Fine… ye pass me class.”

At the news Steve hissed out. “Yiisss!” And shook his fist in celebration. Then he looked at the judges who were finishing up their meals. Duskmaw had given up on the utensils and had picked up her plate to lick the remaining sauce off of it. “Okay, I clearly win. Don’t I?”

“Yes!” Duskmaw grolwpurred out. Purolwed? Growurred?

“I… do truly… seriously hate to say this. And I mean that seriously that admitting this kills a small part of my soul... “ Archcaster Ivelinus sighed out as Steve just rolled his eyes. “But… yes. I’d say you won.” The other council members nodded and Steven cheered, jumping into the air then.

“Fuck yeah!” He saw the glare he got from many of his instructors for swearing. Duskmaw was now licking the sauce of the other plates so she didn’t care. He just held out his hands. “Okay! Passing grades! All of you! Hand them over! You all know I need to get this over with!” His instructors sighed and began to pull out small pieces of paper with their own runic seals stamped onto them. Gathering up the stack of papers that were stuffed into his hands he quickly headed up from the council hall to the office of the Archdean.

Glaring paintings of past instructors and council members watched him walk down the hallways. Many of them letting out tuts of disapproval while others crossed their arms and shook their heads. But he didn’t care. They were just magic paintings. When he got to the intricately detailed door of the Archdean he turned the handle and then gave the door a swift kick with a heavy boot to make it slam open. “Guessss whoooooo!” He called out as he strutted into the Guardian’s office. The ethereal body of the archon of magic was sitting at her desk in the center of the massive office. He knew it was designed to make people feel small in comparison but he never let that bother him.

Instead he just walked up to the giant desk and set his hands on the edge so he could pull himself up and turn, sitting on the edge of the Archdean’s desk, smiling up at the glimmering giant. “Steve… such an unimpressive name for an unimpressive student.” He just grinned. Her insults couldn’t get to him today. Not now. “Come to say goodbye before you leave the Academy now that you’ve failed all your classes?”

“Oh, about that.” He tossed the papers onto her desk then. “Passing grades from all of my instructors! And…” He paused as there were too many paper. He shifted through them for a moment. “Oh and look, Archchair Tirinia also gave me a passing grade even though I’m not in one of her classes! And Archsorcerer Duskmaw…” He paused again as he started to read the note before he quickly grabbed it, tucking it into one of his shirt’s many pockets. “Never mind that one.”

“How…” The Archdean looked down at the pages then, slowly moving them across her desk as the runic seals glowed to show their authenticity. “Last I checked it would take a miracle for you to pass…”

“Not a miracle! A wager! Well… technically two wagers. It all started when Professor Rustbeard made a comment about how being a good mage is like being a good cook and I made a comment about her not being able to cook a decent meal if her life depended on it. Well, things escalated and the others got involved until they all bet me a passing grade that I couldn’t cook a better meal than any of them.” He smiled. “I won! Oh and… I had another wager with Instructor Ironsmith but… it’s not important.” He pursed his lips and shook his head. “So, with this year complete that means I’m a full fledged mage doesn’t it?”

The Archdean was silent as he grinned wide up at her. After a moment the archon rose from her massive seat, pushing the giant piece of furniture back before she walked to the nearby window that looked over most of Aurbitas and the Glimmerscale mountains beyond the city. She clasped her hands behind her back for a moment. “When I agreed to let three humans into the academy it was not a light decision. Humans are a young species. Untried and untested. Your grip on magic is… tenuous at best. To my delight I was given two very promising students and then… you.” As she growled out that last word Steve just grinned wider.

“Never has a student broken more rules, damaged as much school property, or caused so much trouble. Never.” Steve chimed in then.

“I’ve also set more school records than any other one student. Ever. I’ve survived every punishment and trial you’ve set for me. Even the ones you expected to kill me! I’ve been to hell and back three times!” He held up three fingers.

“One of the hells.” She corrected without bothering to look back at him. “Hardly the most dangerous of them as well… Your other human students show much promise. They give me hope for your species. But you…” The archon finally turned back to face him. “You give me dread for the future of your people.” But Steve just laughed at that and hopped down off the edge of her desk.

“You don’t get it. Riava is trying to be an elf. Karisten is trying to be a dwarf. I however am not trying to be anything I’m not. I am gloriously human, and so is my magic. And I embrace it.” He shrugged then. “I might not be the model student you want but I don’t care. I’m better than everyone else in my class and you know it!”

“You know fewer spells than a second year student.” She tried to counter but he laughed and held up his spellbook.

“I don’t memorize as many spells but I’m familiar with more schools than anyone else! I know how to cast spells which is why I’ve got this! It’s got hundreds of pages! Which mean hundreds of spells I can cast at any time thanks to all the reagents I keep with me.” He gave his shirt pockets a pat then. “Humans didn’t even invent reading and writing! But for some reason it took one of us to realize that by just writing down all the spells we could need in one place we don’t need to memorize them! I might not cast the most… perfect magic but we both know my particular brand of Spellslinging…” He grinned as he saw the Archon scowl at the name. “Is more practical than anything any of the other students, or even the instructors can do!”

“Practical? You call your… particular style of magic… practical?” The archon snorted at that.

“I am practical.” He stressed. “I can cook, clean, sew, stitch, garden, tame a horse then ride it, swim, run, gamble, sword fight, hunt, haggle, woodwork, and even make books!” He held up his spellbook once more.

“You sword fight?” The archon then, sounding surprised.

“Damn straight I do! Because sometimes someone right next to you wants to kill you. And magic is great, but it’s better in that moment to know how to use a sword than to try and cast a spell with a dagger in your ribs!” He crossed his arms and nodded. “So yeah, I’m not the perfect academic. But I’ll bet I survive anything you, the gods, or the world can throw at me.”

The archon of magic stared down at him for several long seconds before letting out a soft sigh. “If I make you a full fledged mage will you just promise me to never sully my halls again with your ridiculous ideas and… obnoxious attitude?” She asked but he shook his head.

“I earned this. Fair, and square… Essentially. I deserve to stay here just as much as any of the other graduates from my class. Besides if this school needs someone to actually do something useful who would you rather send? An academic who knows perfect rune calligraphy? Or me?”

Again the archon stood there in silence before she reached out a giant hand, setting it on Steve’s head. She closed her eyes and he felt a little tingle before it faded. “It is done. You are in the records… Steve Spellslinger. Third of the human mages.”

“Hah! You won’t regret this!” He cheered out.

“I already do… the graduation ceremony is in a week. Invite… whoever it is you wish to invite.” The archon moved to sit behind her desk once more and get back to work as Steve cheered once more and ran for the door.

“Gotta let everyone know!” He hollered as he ran. Once he was gone the archon realized that since all three humans graduated she had no grounds to deny other human applicants. So she made a note to talk with the council about making human only training rooms that were as disaster proof as they could make them. Steve had already cost them three training rooms, one library, and a lecture hall. She could only imagine how much damage a whole class of humans would inflict upon the campus.

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Steve stood in his room looking out the window as he grinned wide, hands on his hips, chest jutting out. He was filled with pride at his accomplishment yesterday. He’d become a full mage and passed all his classes without betraying his own idea of what magic should be! Of what made it great! He would use his newfound position to further a new school of magic! Practical magic! Pragmagic? He’d work on it.

Either way nothing could possibly bring him down today. The sky was clear except for that one far off storm cloud. His eyes narrowed then as the cloud seemed to be moving a bit quicker than he expected. It was too late for him to notice it wasn’t far away at all, but very close and just very small. “Oh shit!” He was about to leap towards his belt hung from the corner of his bed when Fulaferris’ small avatar shocked him with a lightning bolt.

Steve twitched and jerked as he fell to the ground. “Gggrrkk!” It shocked him again to make him twitch and writhe a bit more. “Grrrk!” After a moment he thought it was done but then a final bolt struck him. “Grrrkkk!” That seemed to drain it of its energy and the small cloud vanished inside his room. He lay on the floor sizzling and steaming a little as all he could taste was that metal ionic flavor electricity gave off. “This is why I’m an atheist…” He wheezed out a cough as he tried to get his breath back after the shocking. “Fucking… gods…” He grumbled softly. Of course there are many rumors in the dark corners of various drinking establishments and dirty bard songs about when Spellslinger would one day fuck a god… But that’s another story entirely.