The city of Ylarie was truly a site to behold. Though it was an expansive city, by Eladrin standards, its white towers and colonnades blended into the natural flora of the feywild, that one could almost call it was grown there. Its central white tower, where an elder Bralani watches over the surrounding domain, serves as a shining beacon to all who would need shelter from the many dangers that lurk in the arcane forests of that outer world. In addition, at the base of that tower was, and perhaps still is, a school dedicated to the arcane arts. Wizardry is a learned art, and if one has the aptitude and the patience, one can learn to tap into the great river of arcane.
The bells chimed signifying that morning lessons had begun. The adults wound their way the corridors into the various libraries, cloisters, and practice halls whilst the children gathered in the gardens before being divided up and dispatched to their scheduled lessons for the day. Those wishing to gain admittance had to gather in the eastern gardens. The prospectives were mostly Eladrin though there were a few Elves and even a couple of Half-Elves. Despite what is often said about the elven races, we have the same feelings and emotions and as children, we run and play much the same as Humans or Dwarfs. One elf, with a bit of a wild look to his eye was being particularly rambunctious who was trying to show off for his peers by tumbling around the gardens and doing handstands. The teacher for the morning lessons had to create a loud bang with his wand before the students came to heel. The instructor, a tall, Eladrin male with an overly stern look addressed the group, “Today, we will begin to determine if you possess the disposition and aptitude required for the study of magic. We will have to test you on how well you can retain the words of power needed to conjure, adjure, and invoke, as well as how well you respond to the implements wizards use to channel arcane energy. I will spend some time with each of you individually before you break off into smaller groups. So, let us begin.”
Over the course of the next few days the students were tested and each was given the choice of which implement they would like to try. Many of the Eladrins and Elves chose wands, though a few chose the orb. The Half-Elves gravitated towards the tome. A few in the group, including the wild elf, chose the staff. Its connection to the earth seemed to keep it rooted and stable, while at the same time, commanding great power. Once the implement choice was made, the students were schooled in the basic cantrips that are the mainstay of any wizard’s spell book.
Some of the students showed great promise in their studies, while many others still showed aptitude with basic spell craft. However, one student just could not get a spell correct. he either forget a key word or neglected a somatic component at a crucial time. He tried again and again, and it seemed like he could almost manifest a mage hand, but then the hand would dissipate when it tried to manipulate anything. Despite the suggestions of his teachers, he kept trying, but eventually he had to resign himself to failure. He might have been kin to the Eladrin, but magical skill was simply not in his blood. A particularly cruel child told him, “You will have an easier time getting that staff to bloom than you will at any sort of wizardry.” He did not know how right he was.
It has been a long time since I have thought about those days. My ambitions to become a wizard were quashed, but I did gain a great power of a different kind. I suppose I lament what my abilities had cost me. The beast within had to be awakened and would not arise through quiet reflection and study. I wonder, will I even feel that consumed again?
…“Sucaeva, get you @$$ back in the bed! Your spot is starting to get cold!” She has yet to fail at putting a smile on his face, He put his quill down and went back to the bed to put his thoughts to rest once again.