Nillon's heart wasn't beating, he was certain, when he was granted entrance to Ren's office. The war mage sat behind his desk, writing something as he glanced up, then back down. In a fraction of a second, Ren realized Nillon entered his office, and the man sat back, smiling from ear to ear.
"Nillon, my boy, to what do I owe this visit?" Ren asked.
Full of enthusiasm and glee as he was every time Nillon visited.
"I've come to withdraw my name," he said.
Plain and to the point, the way a war mage should be. He didn't dance around the topic or try to buffer the pain and anger that he knew he was about to cause Ren.
"Withdraw your name?" Ren countered.
"Until the magehood is achieved in ranking, a name might be withdrawn and placed with another," Nillon said.
Meeting Ren's eyes, daring the man who he knew he could best in a physical or magical fight, to lash out at him.
"Why? Because of Theon? He won't be around much longer."
"One. You've been saying that for years. Two. It does not bode well for confidence to know that you believe I have a better chance at succeeding if he is not there to test me. Three. I don't want to be a war mage if I can't pass his test. And four. I'm an elemental by birth."
"What damned fool told you that?"
Nillon hesitated. He almost blurted it out, but then he sucked in a breath and gave his head a little shake.
He couldn't very well tell Ren that he had witnessed the destructive aftermath of a spell that he had helped Hellfire find and prepare for at the behest of Trathor, now could he? He certainly couldn't point out the fact that it was Naena and Graydon who finally pushed it out of him.
"I am an elemental, and if they won't take me then I will seek no magehood. I withdraw my name and wish you well in your pursuits, Professor. Good day."
He took his leave as Ren began shouting threats behind him, but he ignored the threats.
Becoming a war mage had been his dream, yes, but he had to look at the reality and understand the danger he put himself into. Theon would never allow one of Ren's students to succeed in becoming a war mage. Anyone who became a mage after him would be nothing but a shadow of what the magehood truly was.
And his magic didn't belong to war.
Nillon made his way to the second floor and then found his way to the elemental workroom. He knocked on the open door and slipped inside as a rain cloud flew past his head quite a bit faster than any cloud should have moved. Thunder rumbled inside it as Nillon skittered to the side, barely avoiding the flash of lightning which jolted out of the cloud and struck the spot he had been standing only a moment before.
"And that is how we treat war mages around here!" Nurdon shouted at him.
"I've come to apply for a magehood," Nillon squeaked out.
All his confidence gone, the wind taken out of him, as it were, by the physical assault he very nearly suffered at the hands of the elemental.
"Come to apply for a magehood?" Nurdon asked.
"Yes, I'm not a war mage."
"Everyone knows that," Nurdon said. "Why elemental?"
"Because I'm an elemental mage."
"No!" Nurdon bellowed, jabbing a finger first at Nillon, then at an exasperated-looking Nendan. "No! I will not have it! Nurdon and Nendan and now Nillon. This is not the way of the world! God did not mean for three men to be named so closely and work in such small confines! I shall not have it, I will not have it, and I will not stand for it!"
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Abaddon's Mark
الخيال (فانتازيا)In the wake of the winter formal, secrets are coming to light. The girl who would be a mage has set herself on a path to learn the magic of the Magi. Therein could lie the answer to her heritage, but her research could also spell her doom. Still una...
