Early morning training had left Kulum, the new wizard apprentice, weary-eyed and worn. He stood atop a lone boulder surrounded by roaring rapids, the firepit beside him serving as a turret against Verivix’s summoned monstrosities. His blistered hands trembled, sweat dripping from his brow as he focused on the unstable magic gifted by his inner demon.
In the nearby fields, flocks of birds scattered in chaotic flight, startled by the shrieks from across the grasslands. Verivix’s next wave of underworld creatures surged forward, climbing over the scorched remnants of their charred predecessors.
A mixed crowd of Pragian townsfolk and curious travelers gathered on the riverbank, marveling at the spectacle. Even the newly appointed Grand Master Wizard Draconian paused on his morning walk, observing the scene from the training grounds where he had once endured his own harsh lessons in wizardry.
“Again,” commanded Verivix from his perch atop a massive oak branch. In a meditative pose, his fingers traced lazy spirals in the air, his pupils flickering between dilation and violet haze as he sought perfect synchronicity.
Anneliese approached stealthily beneath the tree, mimicking Kulum’s movements with fascination. But as Kulum prepared to unleash another firestorm, his resolve faltered. He sagged against the boulder, the sweat-soaked fabric clinging to his skin as fear overtook him.
“No flam… no flam,” he mumbled, his broken dialect trembling with exhaustion.
“Again,” Verivix repeated, detached and unmoved.
“NO FLAAAAAAM!” Kulum cried, panic seizing him as the abominations closed in. They leapt over fallen corpses, snarling and clawing their way into the rushing water, fighting to be the first to reach him.
“Azamatosis,” whispered Anneliese, her hand releasing a surge of thorny vines conjured with Coble’s enchanted sand. The vines arced through the rapids, entangling the underworld beasts. They thrashed and snapped but were soon carried away by the current.
“Hmm. I’m not sure whether to thank you or detest you. Perhaps neither,” Verivix mused, his awkward grin unchanging. He gracefully descended the tree with the aid of his own magical vines.
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“You nearly killed him,” Anneliese snapped, blocking his path. “A true wizard would have known better.”
Verivix waved her off. “And your name today, child?”
“Anneliese the Magnificent.”
“No, it’s not. No one cares,” he said dismissively, snatching Coble’s sand from her waist strap. The sudden grab knocked her to the ground.
“That’s mine!” she protested, springing to her feet.
“Be a good girl and stay quiet. I have an apprentice to train.”
“If Coble were here, we would have condemned your use of necromancy,” Anneliese snapped.
Draconian, accompanied by his lightning-wielding apprentice Maneesh, calmly stepped in. “No, Coble opposed using necromancy to conjure underworld beasts—mindless and ill-suited as they are. But he entertained the possibility of working with intelligent beings of practical use.”
“I am still young. Such creatures are within my grasp. Then I’ll be worthy of Mastery,” Verivix said, tossing the sack of sand to Draconian, hoping to divert Anneliese’s persistent interference.
“Indeed,” Draconian replied. “But the girl?”
“Anneliese the Magnificent,” she asserted, tugging at Draconian’s robe, expecting him to return the sand.
“Maneesh,” Draconian called. His apprentice swiftly restrained Anneliese with a cold, practiced efficiency.
“She’s right, though, Verivix,” Draconian continued. “Keep pushing the boy like this, and you’ll kill him. I suggest smaller steps. A regimen of strict discipline and slow repetition—that’s the surest path to wizardry.”
“The boy’s possessed. He must become stronger than the demon before he can control it,” said Verivix.
“Such brute-force tactics are for battle mages, not—”
“Give me my sand!” Anneliese demanded. “I’ll prove I’m more worthy than any of you.”
“Magic is too dangerous for a simple commoner,” Draconian said, discarding the sand into the river and tucking the empty pouch into his robe.
“No!” Anneliese cried, her fury breaking through as Maneesh’s grip eased. Driven by vengeful intent, she broke free, snatched up a nearby rock, and turned toward Draconian. Before she could throw it, a sudden wave of water surged at his command, knocking her off her feet.
“Maneesh. She’s outlasted my patience. Take her to the farthest orphanage and see that she’s properly cared for.”
“Of course, Grand Master Wizard,” Maneesh replied, dragging the sputtering, defiant Anneliese away.
“Now, where were we?” Draconian asked, adjusting his robes.
“At the point where you acknowledge my right to train my apprentice as I see fit,” said Verivix coolly.
The standoff between the two wizards granted Kulum a fleeting moment of respite. He lay sprawled across the boulder, his limbs slack, chest heaving with exhaustion. He wished he could vanish—dissolve beneath the stone and be swept away by the rapids.
Whispers echoed in his mind. One voice, gentle and maternal, offered comfort, reminding him he wasn’t alone. But another voice, sharp and venomous, slithered through his thoughts. A painful tingling crept down his spine as the words sank in:
They’ll never accept the likes of you and what we are capable of.