They materialised in a yellowy-green flash about ten feet above the ground. Below the sorcerers were a crowd of people walking on a dirt road next to the city gates. Some of the crowd looked up at the bright flash above, only to continue looking as a short man wearing a shuka and rucksack and a taller woman wearing a long, kanzu shoal and rucksack fell from the flash point. Mikumbi landed with a clumping sound on his arse. Msolumsi crash landed on top of a middle-aged man. The middle-aged man's collection of pottery he was carrying in a wheelbarrow fell and broke into pieces all around him and the apprentice witch.

Mikumbi slowly got up, clutching his lower back and arse.

“I really need to stop neglecting my teleporting practice,” he thought.

Mikumbi walked over to his apprentice, who had gotten up from her landing. He could feel the stares of the crowd all around him. The potter let the profanities fly from his broad mouth as he looked at his livelihood in pieces. Mikumbi reached the spectacle just in time.

“I'm sorry sir,” said Msolumsi, with remorse.

“You're 'Sorry',” the man shouted. “Look at what you've done. I'm ruined. How am I going to feed my family.”

“I can fix this, I'm a--.”

The potter finally stood up, looming and towering over Msolumsi's slim yet curvaceous frame. “The only way this can be fixed is you paying for all the damages. So pay up, woman.”

Msolumsi put her guard up with her long staff. “How dare you threaten me, you uncouth savage. Maybe a day as a grasscutter (Greater Cane Rat) will humble and civilise you.”

Msolumsi breathed deeply through her nose, opening herself to the energies of the universe. Her eyes and hands glowed with bright lilac energy.

The potter could feel the apprentice's intense power yet he didn't back down. However, before the situation could escalate any further, Mikumbi stepped in to calm it down.

“Both of you, stand down,” ordered Mikumbi getting between the pair of them.

Mikumbi gave a look of disappointment to his apprentice. He turned to face the rightfully angry potter.

“I'm sorry for all your trouble, sir,” said Mikumbi in a calming tone. “I also apologise for my apprentice's outburst.”

“I don't care for apologies,” the potter said, he calmed down ever so slightly. “I'm owed a lot of money and somebody best pay up.”

“No need to worry my good man. I'll sort this out.”

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Mikumbi's eyes and hands glowed neon yellowy-green.

“Repair the pottery,” the wizard boomed then gestured with his hand.

The shards of pottery flashed yellowy-green then started to vibrate. The potter stood dumbfounded with widened eyes as the broken pieces started to come together fixing themselves in place. The crowd of onlookers muttered among themselves, some of them used their gods' names in vain. Once every last shard had found its place, the fissures slowly disappeared. A bright yellowy-green flash signalled the end of the spell.

“There you go. Good as new,” said Mikumbi.

The potter went to pick up his pottery, inspecting every single one of them. Sure enough, they were as good as new. The potter placed all his work back in the wheelbarrow.

“Thank you,” said the potter.

“No problem. Before you go,” Mikumbi rummaged through his coin sack then handed the potter a few silver coins. “For your troubles and family.”

A large smile and bright eyes fixed on the potter's face. “Wow. Thanks again.”

The potter headed off about his business. Msolumsi's scowl followed the potter.

Mikumbi looked up at his apprentice with a frown fixed on his face.

“You lost your cool,” said Mikumbi. “Threatening to turn the man into a grasscutter. What were you thinking?”

“That savage threatened me. I have every right to defend myself,” Msolumsi replied.

“He was a simple man that got angry because you broke his pottery.”

“No. You did that with the spell.”

Mikumbi shook his head.

“True but that's beside the point,” said the wizard. “We're here to help these people. If we go around using magic on everybody that slights or made petty threats to us, we'd have no customers because they'd be afraid of us.”

“So what, we let everybody think that they can threaten us? What happens if they attack us?” She asked.

“We defend ourselves. Without magic. With our hands and feet, if the attacker is unarmed. With our weapons, when they have weapons. That's why I teach you how to fight. You could've easily beaten that man if it escalated.”

Msolumsi scoffed at the wizard.

“Are telling me you that you've never used magic on belligerent fool?” She queried with a sceptical frown on her face.

“You of all people know the things that I've done during my life,” Mikumbi replied with a calm tone. “Yes, I've used magic in anger against everyday people. It was foolish of me to do so. I speak from a couple of centuries of experience. Just because you have the power, doesn't mean you should use it.”

Msolumsi lowered her head. She knew of her teacher's bloody past. Hypocrite or not, she knew that nothing beats wisdom gained from experience. Deep down she knew that Mikumbi was protecting her.

“You're right, Mwalimu. I'm sorry,” the trainee witch replied in a humble tone.

“Come on, let's get going. We've wasted enough time here,” said Mikumbi.

She nodded then walked with him within the crowd entering the city.

“I'm still blaming you for that fiasco,” said Msolumsi.

“I really need to work on my teleporting spells,” said Mikumbi.