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He stood there in his flowing robes, and gathered up his materials for that day's lessons. It was still an odd feeling for him, rising in the morning and preparing for this as he always did. A few months ago, he was a strong warrior, a powerful spiritualist capable of fighting with some of the worst horror's the valley had ever known. Today, he was a simple professor at a small school he had opened up for the education of those who required it. Gone were the days of heavy fighting, he no longer had the stomach for such violence. He had made it clear to his enemies, and his enemies had, for now, abided by his statement of matters: He was to be left alone by both sides of the conflict, and he would stay out of the conflict in kind. He was, at best, a dangerous ally whose power was frightening to those that saw it, and at worst, was the sort of being neither good nor evil wished to traffic with. Spirits are, at their core, a fickle and unruly creature, and elves were no better. Being both only further complicated matters.
So for now, he stood in front of the house where he held his lessons, his classes. His students were a strange lot, some human, some elven, some dwarven, and even a fey-kind were part of his class. Each had a unique ability or power, but no idea what it meant. His job was simply to allow them a place to learn their abilities away from those they might hurt, to teach them to control said powers, something he had been missing when his power first manifested. As he entered the building, he could already hear little Amilia complaining about Skell's use of his powers on her small doll she always brought with her.
Smiling briefly, he set his countanence into a brief scowl as he entered the room, to see what looked to Amilia her doll on fire, hovering just out of her reach, but to his more experienced eyes, the doll was laying on the table just next to Skell, a minor illusion, but still impressive for his age of seven. However, his job as teacher did not allow such feelings of pride in his student to interfere with his admonishment to the child for playing such a cruel prank on the young five year old. As the only other human in the class, Skell had a penchant for picking on her the most, although their teacher was certain that the child did not understand why.
"Skell! Stop that this instant, you have been told before to leave Amilia's doll alone. Amilia, you should know better then to fall for one of Skell's illusions, you know that's what he does. You have to see, not just look. It's the first rule of magic." Admonished their elven teacher. "As for the rest of you, get to your seats, we're starting today's lesson. First, we'll go over what we learned last week. What is the hardest thing to do when dealing with magic? Skell, why don't you answer this."
The small boy looked at his teacher with that "I wasn't paying attention last week and don't remember what you said" look that many young boys seemed to have, and simply said "...uh....um....Learn..it?" To which the class all laughed at the stuttering, embarrassed boy. "No Skell. Anyone else have an answer to help our their classmate here?" A very small hand shot up, attached to a small arm, which was attached to the smallest member of the class, Amilia. "The hardest thing to do with magic is to divide reality from illusion." The small child was his youngest student, and was also far more intelligent then anyone in the room, including their professor. Of course, intelligence was only so useful without a way to channel it, and that was his job, to give her a way to channel her innate brilliance to open up new paths for her.
"Very good Amilia. Yes, discerning reality from illusion is the most difficult thing for anyone to do, mage or not. If you had remember that lesson, Amilia, you would have noticed that when Skell made it look like your doll was on fire, that there was no heat or smell of burning cotton when he did it. You have to remember that the next time you think something magical is happening. Now, I asked you all to write down what it is you want to do when you get older, and now it's time for you to come up here one by one, and tell the rest of the class." Several groans were heard from the assembled children. "That's enough children. Now, Grolnar. You can be first, and we'll go around the room from there. Is that understood children?"
"Yes Professor Tigen." The children all chorused in unison, as the dwarven boy, Grolnar, stood up to take his place at the front of the class, to discuss what he was going to be when he matured. They day was going to come for each of them, when they were going to be offered the choice of how to use their abilities. Some of them would use them to better themselves and the lives of others, others might become negative influences, hurting others for personal gain. Others might refrain from ever using their powers. But that is what the whole point of his school was, giving them the tools so they knew which choice was the correct choice for them. Knowledge without bias of good and evil. If ignorance is what bred fear and hate, then knowledge would spread understanding and acceptance, and that is neither good nor evil.
Balance. That's all anyone can hope for. Balance.
So for now, he stood in front of the house where he held his lessons, his classes. His students were a strange lot, some human, some elven, some dwarven, and even a fey-kind were part of his class. Each had a unique ability or power, but no idea what it meant. His job was simply to allow them a place to learn their abilities away from those they might hurt, to teach them to control said powers, something he had been missing when his power first manifested. As he entered the building, he could already hear little Amilia complaining about Skell's use of his powers on her small doll she always brought with her.
Smiling briefly, he set his countanence into a brief scowl as he entered the room, to see what looked to Amilia her doll on fire, hovering just out of her reach, but to his more experienced eyes, the doll was laying on the table just next to Skell, a minor illusion, but still impressive for his age of seven. However, his job as teacher did not allow such feelings of pride in his student to interfere with his admonishment to the child for playing such a cruel prank on the young five year old. As the only other human in the class, Skell had a penchant for picking on her the most, although their teacher was certain that the child did not understand why.
"Skell! Stop that this instant, you have been told before to leave Amilia's doll alone. Amilia, you should know better then to fall for one of Skell's illusions, you know that's what he does. You have to see, not just look. It's the first rule of magic." Admonished their elven teacher. "As for the rest of you, get to your seats, we're starting today's lesson. First, we'll go over what we learned last week. What is the hardest thing to do when dealing with magic? Skell, why don't you answer this."
The small boy looked at his teacher with that "I wasn't paying attention last week and don't remember what you said" look that many young boys seemed to have, and simply said "...uh....um....Learn..it?" To which the class all laughed at the stuttering, embarrassed boy. "No Skell. Anyone else have an answer to help our their classmate here?" A very small hand shot up, attached to a small arm, which was attached to the smallest member of the class, Amilia. "The hardest thing to do with magic is to divide reality from illusion." The small child was his youngest student, and was also far more intelligent then anyone in the room, including their professor. Of course, intelligence was only so useful without a way to channel it, and that was his job, to give her a way to channel her innate brilliance to open up new paths for her.
"Very good Amilia. Yes, discerning reality from illusion is the most difficult thing for anyone to do, mage or not. If you had remember that lesson, Amilia, you would have noticed that when Skell made it look like your doll was on fire, that there was no heat or smell of burning cotton when he did it. You have to remember that the next time you think something magical is happening. Now, I asked you all to write down what it is you want to do when you get older, and now it's time for you to come up here one by one, and tell the rest of the class." Several groans were heard from the assembled children. "That's enough children. Now, Grolnar. You can be first, and we'll go around the room from there. Is that understood children?"
"Yes Professor Tigen." The children all chorused in unison, as the dwarven boy, Grolnar, stood up to take his place at the front of the class, to discuss what he was going to be when he matured. They day was going to come for each of them, when they were going to be offered the choice of how to use their abilities. Some of them would use them to better themselves and the lives of others, others might become negative influences, hurting others for personal gain. Others might refrain from ever using their powers. But that is what the whole point of his school was, giving them the tools so they knew which choice was the correct choice for them. Knowledge without bias of good and evil. If ignorance is what bred fear and hate, then knowledge would spread understanding and acceptance, and that is neither good nor evil.
Balance. That's all anyone can hope for. Balance.