Stefon and Edmund - one tall, one stout
Two went in, and one came out
A crown of red 'round Edmund's head -
one went mad, the other left dead.
Deep in the heart of a school for boys
the pair went looking for mischief and toys
Lovers, the two, crept in one night
where something gave a terrible fright
Remnants of deadly Shadow Fire
came creeping to their spellbound pyre
Shades and ghosts came out to play
as faded quickly did the day
Stefon rambled and babbled when instructors came
Mad ever-after, the halfling was never the same
just a crown of red ‘round poor Edmund’s head -
one gone mad, the other left dead.
Not much is known about the hybrid working behind the front desk on campus. He’s mad, they know. A conspiracy theorist, mostly, but harmless. He spends his days playing Angry Birds on his phone or prattling off about ghosts stealing his shoes.
He was born Stefon Kroeger. His mother was a spirit mage. His father was a light mage. As a halfling, he was born without access to magic. In his youth, he met and fell in love with a spirit mage named Edmund McKain, who became obsessed with finding a way to gift his lover magic. The abandoned ruins of St. Andrews on the campus of Rookshaven, deep in the forest, was a known conduit of magic, even all those years ago. No one knows for certain what happened that night.
A spell gone wrong, perhaps. All they know is that by the time the groundskeepers got there and sent for healers, Edmund had been dead for hours. His head had no clear wounds, and yet the crown of his skull seemed to have leaked all the blood in his body. Stefon was inconsolable, but no matter how many spirit mages tried to reach his mind - they found nothing. In time, he graduated from the Academy and took up a job at the front desk, greeting new students and handing out maps. Anyone who stayed for a chat was treated to all manner of theories. Some suggested that the Ivanovs were enslaving other mages. Some insisted that hybrid mages were gods. Pay him no mind. He’s addled.
Nothing but a school nursery rhyme to remember what happened to him. It’s a bit morbid, sure, but it’s great for skipping rope too.
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