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Smash or Pass - Wandering Mage
Smash
Pass
doodle at work
I designed a character for a class
Day 128 of 104AM Felitoft
Of course, it was Serip Buren who’d beaten me for the position of waterkind mage. Once announced, Serip turned and gave me that smirk of his, the same one I’d seen with every taunt he’d thrown at me in school. To the other candidate, he only gave a slightly apologetic smile.
It had taken a few moments for it to sink in. No words passed my lips. I just turned and walked out, with my head held high. I’d given my best efforts over the last two days. We’d shown our skills in magic and in teaching, in trials at the College of Mages. Afterwards, the mages made their decision.
After leaving the college, I wandered around town. I didn’t want to head home. My friends wouldn’t be free for a few hours yet. Unlike me, they have actual careers. I just have a job, working as a waiter at Nomad’s Rest tavern. Thoughts flittered through my mind, like butterflies in a field. I needed to settle them.
Now, I’d watched Serip’s demonstration of magic. We’d both demonstrated mastery of two of the elements. Such dualkind expertise was a requirement for all mages. I’d been bestowed waterkind magic and had also studied airkind. It was the opposite for Serip, and it showed. He’d struggled with some complicated water spells, including purification. Given that this was for the position of the college’s waterkind mage, I’d thought that would make a poor impression. Obviously the mages had thought differently.
But we’d also needed to show our ability as teachers. I went into this to help others. That was what I’d kept in mind during the two classes I’d taught under the observation of Mage Drasam. Serip’s motivation, I suspected, was more about power. I hadn’t seen his classes, but I knew him.
Rumours had plagued me through school. Claims I’m part-fairic. Yes, I am shorter than most Rychillans, and my mismatched eyes are not common. But both grey and purple are natural eye colours for us, and my short stature was more likely from my Raronic heritage. I’d pointed these out several times. Yet like bees after flowers, these rumours followed me and stung. But they’d only started after Serip and I had first met. The same day, in fact.
Then there’s the fact that Mage Nalkin, the florakind mage, is Serip’s uncle. Perhaps Serip had sown some of those rumours about me amongst the mages, too. Or maybe the bonds of blood clouded Mage Nalkin’s judgement.
All it would take was a sentence here or there, pointing out the connection between the college’s newest mage and one of the longest-serving ones. As I’d learned from the receiving end, rumours can be effective at shaping one’s perception by others.
Whilst my thoughts had gone down this dark path, I had not paid heed to my steps. The sharp whistle of a car cut through them. I jumped back to the kerb of the street I was crossing. The car stopped a short distance away, and its driver climbed out. My right hand balled into a fist, expecting a confrontation. He just checked I was all right. After hearing I was, he climbed back in and resumed their drive. I watched the car go. Each puff of steam drifted up and faded away. Just like my chances of a job at the college.
I thought back to what I’d been considering earlier and found myself ashamed. Even if my suspicion is correct, it is best stated only in these pages. Voicing it in anger would be the tactics of a bully. No, I had other matters more worthy of my attention.
Despite this setback, I am still a mage. That is the title I earned, with the mark on my terax to show it. But the only other suitable position was the airkind mage. Mage Drasam held it, and she wouldn’t be leaving that position soon. However, that car had given me an idea. Perhaps a mechanic or an air captain, maybe even a riverfarer, would find my skills of use. Waterkind magic is half of what drives steam engines. But while viable, none of these options grabbed at my soul.
My wandering had brought me within two streets of the temple, and I made my way there. Inside, a familiar warmth washed over me. It was pleasant, like when biting into a fresh-baked cake. It had changed little since my last visit. The statue of Luxanke in the middle of the room had been repainted, as had the eight altars spaced around it. I walked over to one of the vacant altars.
A rummage through my satchel produced a bag of roasted fava beans, seasoned with flakes of dried chilli. I supposed I could use them as an offering. They were fresh and unopened, I’d only bought them this morning. After placing the bag atop the altar, I knelt before it in prayer. After uttering the required words, I just asked for guidance. That was all.
Upon opening my eyes, I found the top of the altar empty. Yet I had heard no one approach during the few minutes in which I’d made my prayer. For the first time today, I smiled. Although it wasn’t my first prayer, this was a change. I would have to keep an eye out.
digging up old lineart and crying because photoshop is my primary tool now and that kind of detailed & fine lines are hard to achieve with photoshop
Just a wandering mage I drew to flex my graphical muscles.
By the way, anyone know how to set up a paypal for Indonesians? Been thinking of doing picture commissions, but don’t know how to receive payment.