As the child fell through the cracks in reality, he was called to that which the Wizard was denied. For while the Wizard's assailants prevented flight, they were not aware of his most recent progeny. Across the planes the child fell, until he was guided into one of his Creator's sanctuaries. The magic in the walls welcomed the familiar magic within the boy and automatons immediately began to attend to his needs.

Devoid of facial expressions and with bodies of metal, the constructs were uncannily adept at caring for the infant. The child received proper nourishment and was even instructed on reading, writing, mathematics, and how to attend to his own needs. After many years passed, an image eventually manifested before the boy. The image was bearded, tall, and strong, and the young one could not help but notice that it and he resembled eachother, with some key differences beyond physical age. Where the image's eyes had brown irises, the boy's were violet swirles dancing with prismatic aurorae. Where the image's irises were surrounded by white, the boy's were existed in an abyssal void. The child's observation was interrupted when the image began to speak.

"I, the image you are listening to right now, am but the reflection of a fragment of Quexar's spirit, placed here to administer this sanctuary. If you are hearing this message, then one of my worst fears has come to pass. You, my son, have been separated from me. The automatons' observations further indicate that you showed up here at such a young age that I didn't get to name you, let alone teach you. Something horrible must have happened, as otherwise, you would not be in this situation. Know that he who made this message, and who's form this image imitates, is certainly saddened. Suboptimal as this state of affairs is, we must proceed. The sanctuary has determined that your soul is now developed enough to start learning magic. Your father would prefer to instruct you himself, but his absence means that the sanctuary's systems will teach you for now. He will hopefully take over your education soon, though you should learn what you can in the meantime."

After the message ended, an aperture formed in the wall down an aisle of books. I leaped from my comfy chair, set my current reading down, and swiftly walked towards the opening. As I passed between the walls of literature, I could barely contain my excitement. I had read stories about spells for so long and now I would finally learn how to cast them! The implications of the recording I listened too were great, but I could contemplate them later. As I walked by a construct, which was probably going to put the book I had been reading back in it's shelf, my enthusiasm only grew. I was so excited as I passed beneath the silver-engraved purple archway, that I barely registered that my Progenitor's name was Quexar.

Once I was fully through the archway, the entrance vanished as if it were never there. A void glittering with gold and violet stars surrounded me. A couple meters away, a circle of obsidian statues, which were somehow perfectly visible in this starry void, awaited. So entranced was I by this scene, which was both beautiful and the first different room that I had visited in years, that I jumped when the spirit from before appeared in front of me.

"Step into the center of the circle", he told me, and I hastened to obey. My excitement mixed with trepidation as I walked over the disurbingly solid emptiness to the designated spot. The statues, of which I counted thirty-nine, were each taller than me by at least a factor of ten. A pedestal with a bowl and knife waited in the center of the circle. When I stood before it after what felt like a kilometer-long walk, I could not help but find the faces on the statues stern and judging as I craned my neck to gaze upon them. One third wore armor and carried an assortment weapons. I saw plate-mail, leather gear, and more. Another third kneeled with their hands clasped and heads down. Their clothes resembled the priestly garb in some of my library's picture books, varying from a luxurious stole to a simple cowl. The final third wore robes and carried what appeared to be spellcasting implements. I saw a simple wand, a jeweled staff, a gnarled walking stick, and more. The spirit, whom I would mentally refer to as Quex from now now on, began to speak.

"You are now in a device designed to figure out what Path you will walk. Each practitioner has a slightly different path, but they all usually fit into three broad categories: Vessel, Warrior, or Caster. These generalizations are represented by the statues, while more precision will be found in other signs. Truth be told, I hope you become a Caster like me, though I will love you no matter your Path."

My hopes matched his. Many of the stories I had read featured these practitioners. Mighty Knights struck down their foes with sword in hand. Stealthy Rangers stalked their prey with lethal competence. Berserkers crushed armies with naught but clubs and rage. Impressive were the exploits of these Warriors, but they did not interest me. Priests called their gods' judgment down upon the wicked. Monks served as conduits for the cause they championed and fought with naught but their fists. I respected the abilities of Vessels, but they did not call to me. The power of Casters did. When Forest Casters strangled hordes with animated tree roots, I rejoiced. When Mages flew, I was delighted. And most of all, I was ecstatic when storms were conjured, legions were driven to madness, and planar hordes were called from beyond the veil. My books seemed to imply that my interests may not be universally accepted, but I cared not. Casters bent reality to their will, and their power is what I craved. After my musings, Quex continued to speak.

"Once activated by your blood, my creation will provide signs which will help us find what your Path is. Now, use the knife and add your blood to the bowl. It only needs a drop. I recommend that you just prick your finger".

With what was totally no fear at all, I began to prick my left thumb. It took several tries. One of my attempts failed because my hands trembled too much. Another failed because the knife kept slipping between my sweaty hands. There were no automata around to save me from harm. Finally, I poked my thumb hard enough to draw a drop of blood. I held my hand over the bowl dramatically, waiting for the drop to fall. After a couple minutes, I just pressed my hand to the bottom of bowl and smeared it with my blood, which while less climactic than I would have liked, seemed to suffice.

A jolt of ecstacy coursed through me, and what I assumed was my soul stirred. Veins of gold spread throughout the bowl, down the marble pedestal, and began to traverse the solid void upon which I stood. They reached the statues. The kneeling vessels and strong-armed warriors remained inert. The casters, however, began to glow. All thirteen radiated prismatic light, and raised their casting aids as one. The stars in the void all around shone brighter and images danced above. Fire and lightning burst into existence, only to be swallowed by cloying darkness. Foreign happiness and sadness and rage and a thousand other emotions were pushed into my mind, and vanished in an instant. Floating islands, realms of scorching flame, unseen geometries, and thousands of alien creatures flashed before my eyes. The images faded into violet light, which I heard and tasted as much as saw. That too vanished, leaving naught but a word in my mind. I instinctually felt that it was only my limited mind's translation of an infinite, unique truth, but it sufficed.

Archwizard

The lights faded, returning the pedestal and statues and starry void to their previous, innert state. I looked around, dazed from the cacaphanous beauty I had witnessed, to find Quex beaming at me.

"My hopes have been more than exceeded, young one. I am so proud. If my interpretation is correct, you walk the Path of the Archwizard."

Seeing my nod of agreement, he continued.

"Given the statues responded correctly, which they certainly should, since I made them, you have the power to reach the thirteenth Tier. According to my records, you are by far the mightiest of my progeny. The wonders you shall bring to my empire will be glorious."

As I looked into Quex's eyes, I found myself appraising him. I saw love in his eyes, true enough. But from his expression and words, I could not help but think that much of his happiness came from him realizing how useful I can be. While that isn't necessarily a problem, it did make me a little wary. I would be cautious when, if ever, I met the man whence Quex sprang. For now, though, I was too excited to get hung up on the issue.

Excitedly, I asked, "can I start to learn spells now?"

"Yes", Quex responded while chuckling. "I admire your enthusiasm. Though, we should discuss what Paths are and what the Path of the Archwizard is in particular first."

Not learning how to cast spells right this second made me sad, but Paths still sounded cool, so I didn't complain.

Not talking did not equal a lack of expressing, because Quex smiled at me knowingly. "I understand your impatience and I was much the same. Knowledge of Paths will help you understand your spells, so bear with me and know that listening will be worth it."

I nodded in assent and he began the lesson in a way I did not expect: with a question.

"You asked about spells earlier, so you may already have some knowledge on Paths. Tell me what you know."

I thought about the question and the stories that I had read came to mind. I recalled different Paths and their abilities. I also recalled that sometimes, when a character is asked a question, their response will be followed by a smug correction from the asker. Seeing the anticipation in Quex's eyes, I decided to get on with it and bite the arrow. "Warriors punch, Vessels pray, and Casters master the universe."

Quex looked at me with disappointment. "While your recognition of Caster supremacy is laudable, I know you know it is more complicated than that. Your flippancy has incurred my lecture. Prepare yourself."

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A foreign influence entered my mind. I knew that I would be incapable of interrupting Quex, and that his next words would be forever seared into my consciousness. While my recall was great, it was not perfect, so I reluctantly acknowledged the usefulness of whatever magic was cast upon me. Thoughts gathered and magic inflicted, Quex began the lecture.

"There are three main groups that Paths fall into. There are Warriors, Vessels, and Casters. Warriors enhance their bodies. They make themselves stronger, faster, more durable, better at sensing, and more. While many can punch well, they can also do much more. Some Paths are best suited to weilding heavy armor and weapons, such as Knights. Others move swiftly and stealthily and wield ranged weapons, such as Rangers and Hunters. Some think Ranger and Hunter are the same Path, though I disagree. Also, contrary to what many think, Rangers and Hunters are strong. A bow's draw-strength is significant. In fact, many Barbarians, renowned for their strength and endurance, do not have the raw physical power to wield the bows some Hunters use regularly."

Quex gave me a grave look. "Do not underestimate any Path, let alone Rangers and Hunters. They, along with Assassins, are some of the most dangerous threats to Casters like us. They have the range and stealth to kill us before we can bring our power to bear. Be careful. Do you understand?"

I responded with furtive nodding.

"Good", he continued. "Contrary to their name, the Warrior category includes those who do not fight. For instance, Blacksmiths fall into this group. The materials and conditions some of these metal-workers operate with require an enhanced body. They need to be strong enough to work with some of the more exotic metals, and robust enough to survive in the temperatures required to melt said materials. The Warriors should be referred to as Amplifiers or Enhancers. But, sadly, the term has been used for so long by so many that getting everyone to change their terminology is too much of a hassle.

"Though", he mused, "I was created millenia ago, when Quexar ruled a whole continent. He has likely expanded the Empire since then, so he may have the time and reach to make everyone change their vocabulary. You should be familiar with the terms Warrior and Enhancer in any case.

"There is much more information to share about what I will henceforth refer to as Enhancers, but I shall move on for now. Vessels are very aptly named. They serve as vessels for other powers, such as Gods, demons, subjective concepts, or even very powerful mortals. While they are alike in that they channel power that is not their own, their applications of that power vary wildly. A Priest of a fire god can throw fireballs. A Monk who venerates a demon wield a fragment of the demon's physical strength while adopting some of their characteristics. A Paladin of the idea of justice can hit harder when battling those they perceive as unjust. Also, what many Pantheons deny but remains true is that Gods themselves are Vessels of their worshippers' faith. While some Vessels imitate Enhancers and Casters with their abilities and do more besides, there is a critical drawback to Vessel Paths. If the force they channel denies them, they lose their power. A God can stop empowering a priest. A demon could cast aside a Monk. A Paladin of justice can lose their powers if they act in a way they think of as unjust. A God with no worshipers loses their power and fades away.

"Furthermore, if the power they draw from dissappears, the Vessels of said power lose their abilities and can suffer greatly. For instance, when I slew Filleliel, Goddess of Light, all of her Vessels lost their source of power. Those who only connected to her recently suffered some pain, but could move on to other powers. Those who had channeled her might for decades went catatonic or perished. Know this, gods may be mighty, but they are not invincible. Filleliel sent her inquisitors to murder me and my subjects because I am a powerful Caster, and she died because I am a powerful Caster."

He grinned at me, and I grinned back. Grim as the tale was, it reminded me of just how powerful I could become.

The lecture continued. "One last factoid before I move on. While many sources for Vessels demand veneration, especially gods, it is not required. Gods and their ilk demand worship not because it is necessary from the Vessels that channel them, but because it helps gods retain control. Now, let me share with you some basic information on the category of Paths we belong to, Casters.

"Casters shape the cosmos to their will, though each Caster acts upon the cosmos differently. Mages use unwieldy rituals and material components to direct their spells, but are capable of remarkable sophistication. Sorcerers do not need material components and can spellcast swiftly, but most are incapable of a Mage's precision and complexity with their casting. Wizards can cast spells more swiftly than a Sorcerer and with more sophistication than a Mage. What these three Paths have in common is that they are very limited in the number of elements they can manipulate. Most can only manipulate one, such as Fire or Water. A rare few can manipulate two or even three elements. This leads us into what makes us Archwizards have so much power.

"If an element exists, we can manipulate it. More, we can use multiple elements in the same spell, allowing their complementing and contradicting natures to lend extra power. And there is one more advantage, more significant than all of the ones I mentioned previously."

Quex leaned down and whispered theatrically, despite how I was the only member of his audience.

"There is a trick to casting that not even the few other Archwizards I have met can use. It may be exclusive to our family or those with our innate power. For you see, when other Casters spellcast, it is as if they are yanking a small part of a Plane and mashing it into their desired shape. However, what most do not know about the Planes is not only are they infinite, that infinity means that any effect they can think of is already a part of the Plane. So, when we amplify the influence of a specific Plane or Planes on our reality, we can just specify which part of the Plane we want, rather than smushing a diffuse cloud into a certain shape. Instead of trying to squeeze Fire into a Fireball, we can just let an already existing Fireball in the Plane of Fire into our reality. This method of casting is more involved than my limited description indicates, but it is much more efficient and powerful than the methods of other casters.

"Archwizards are powerful, with our blood being especially so. You have the potential for great power, but keep your limits in mind. While almost everyone has at least a little potential to be an Enhancer, Vessel, and Caster, you are a pure Caster. You are completely incapable of enhancing your physical strength or serving as a Vessel of another. You will never be able to punch harder than a non-practitioner, even with spells."

While I understood the practical challenges of what Quex spoke of, I wasn't upset. Physical strength is useful and being able to channel another had its applications, but these abilities are not awesome. I am interested in flinging lightning bolts, teleporting, and invading minds, not punching good or praying hard.

After observing my face to make sure I accepted the "bad news", he kept talking. "One last bit of information. The barrier between practitioners and non-practitioners is thinner than many think. Non-practitioners have the kinds of power that practitioners have, but do not have enough or sufficient control to wield it to any meaningful effect. Even with a lifetime of training, they can only achieve marginal results. For example, after decades of experimentation on a child-abuser I found, he was only able to enhance himself to such an extent that he could lift a kilogram more than normal, and only for a short time. While there is much more information for me to share on Paths, we will stop here for now. Since I have finished my lecture, would you like to start learning how to spellcast today?"

As Quex looked upon me with a kind smile, I thought over what I had learned. While I digested much of the academic information he shared, I also thought about him as a person. Quex, and by extension Quexar, were not paragons of virtue. But I didn't care and he mentioned a spell, so I moved on.

"Yes, please", I responded while hopping up and down.

He smiled at me, and a book appeared in his hand. "What I am about to share with you is a Word of Power. The Language of Power is critical to Shaping to my standards. I will instruct you further on the topic later. For now, just looking at the first page of this book will suffice."

My arms flailed vigorously for the book, and Quex chuckled as he handed it to me. I noticed that his eyes seemed a bit colder right then, but I was too excited to care.

I sat down, opened the book to the first page, and frowned in confusion. I saw a symbol I did not recognize. It was red and had strange angles and something about it tugged at my mind. The instant I took in the whole symbol, pain flared.

Fire coursed through my veins. My bones felt like they were being ground into powder. I felt like my brain matter would burst from my shattered skull, after it melted out of my ears. I tasted red as blood slid from my eyes and nose. This pain was but a side-effect of the agony my soul experienced. I knew with absolute certainty that if something didn't change soon, I would die.

Quex gazed down at me, his eyes warm and cold and slightly sympathetic. Then, I remembered. I am learning magic. A soul-deep hunger burned within me, and I directed my eyes back to the hateful page.

As my eyes looked upon the symbol, my soul perceived it as well. An impossibly complex version of the symbol was integrating with my soul. I instinctually knew that the pain I felt was due to the integration not being complete. I took in the whole symbol with all of my senses, and though the pain increased, the integration accelerated. After several moments that felt like eternities, the symbol was fully within my soul. But something was missing. The pain built and panic bloomed. Then, I remembered what Quex told me.

This is a Word of Power.

My mouth opened and sound that was not a sound rang out. I was speaking to reality itself. I heard and smelled and perceived the Word of Power in a thousand ways mortal words could not properly describe.

Spark

The pain I felt was replaced by glorious ecstacy. A tiny ember danced in front of me and disappeared. A spoke the Word of Power again and again and again.

Spark

Spark

Spark

More jolts of ecstacy lanced through me and more embers danced. They were the most beautiful sight I had ever beheld. All of the pain was worth it.

"The first time is always the worst." I looked at Quex with a mix of confused hate and gratitude, and he continued. "The first Word of Power you learn is always the most painful. Your soul is weakest and the process is unfamiliar. Now, your soul has been strengthened and you know what to do. Learning more Words of Power is still painful, but it gets easier with each new Word. And know this, the Language of Power will serve as the foundation for all your spells. It will lend them a potency no other languages can match, and are exceedingly versatile. Spark can start fires, it is true, but it can also spark storms, rebellions, and more. The applications of it will grow as you do, and will always be useful. There is more, but I suspect you are tired. You have experienced what will probably be the worst pain of your entire existence. More, albeit lesser agony, will follow. Do you wish to continue exploring the Path of the Archwizard?"

I remembered the agony of learning the Word of Power. It paled before the ecstacy of using it.

I looked up at my tormentor and teacher, spine straight and hands steady. "Give me the next Word."

Quex gave me a small, simple smile. "Rest", he told me. "You will learn more after you sleep." With a wave of his hand, I appeared in my oh so soft bed. An automaton wiped the blood off my face.

I slept.