I grew up in a humble village off the coast of a vast ocean. From the moment of my birth, those in the village believed I was unique, an individual blessed by the gods with unparalleled gifts. The village treated me with awe and admiration at every conceivable point in my young life.
My parents had sent word of my talents to the prestigious tower of the magi, boasting that I was a born protégé, and asked if the tower would consider my tutelage. Within a matter of days, I received a letter. It was an invitation written on aged parchment that still had the damp smell of mildew clinging to it. Bound by a thin leather cord and golden wax seal bearing the signet of the Archmage himself, confirmed the letter’s authenticity.
I broke the seal and unfurled the letter. The Archmage had a delicate hand and the detail of the script written within was magnificent. I read the letter’s contents out loud. My parents, who stood hovering nearby, could barely contain their excitement. I had been accepted and one of the Azure Tower’s own would arrive on the morrow to take me to the tower.
I spent the rest of my day preparing for my departure. Word of my acceptance had spread like a wildfire through the village and many stopped by our home to shower me with the praise and the homage I justly deserved. After all, I was unique, and there was no other like me. The tower would soon come to recognise this, too. I knew in my mind that I would rise faster than any had, and in the not-too-distant future would even surpass the Archmage himself.
It surprised me when my escort arrived the next morn. I had expected to be whisked away by some sort of teleportation magic, but a shrivelled old man greeted me atop a horse, with another in tow. When I raised my concerns, he responded with a gruff laugh and praised me for my imagination.
When we finally arrived at the tower, they ushered me into an empty room made of cold stone. A single slit in the wall allowed for a meagre trickle of light to enter. I was told to wait and left alone. I could feel my irritation writhing beneath my skin. How dare they treat one of my calibre in such a manner? This was not the welcome I had envisioned, but I persevered.
An hour passed, and eventually, I heard the boom of a voice echo around the room.
“You have proven that you are a patient man. This is the most vital skill when pursuing magic. You may enter the tower.”
Stone scraping upon stone erupted shortly after the voice had ceased, and at the far end of the room, a portion of the wall cracked open, revealing a flight of stairs that ascended into the tower proper. My journey begins here, I thought as I placed a firm foot on the first step and began the ascent.
The first several weeks of my tutelage flew by at a rapid pace as I sought to learn my way around the tower and delve deep into my studies of the practicalities of magic.
It soon became apparent to me that the tower’s mentors did not appreciate my talents and had placed me amongst the mundane rabble of young mages. While they left us to flounder about like beached fish sucking for air, a select few sycophants could coddle up to them and suckle from their teats like swaddled babes.
Outrage consumed me when I discovered these ‘exceptional’ students were merely the offspring of the wealthy. And that a hefty sum of gold to line the Tower’s pockets was more valuable than raw talent and innate ability.
I approached the Archmage on the matter, insisting that I was being overlooked and asking him to allow me to flourish. His simple response was that I was average and did not have the right to call myself a protégé. It left me stunned and resentful. The system had failed me. It was up to me to prove that I was unique, even if it meant that I would stand alone.
I must thank them, though. Without their watchful eyes upon me and their blatant abandonment, I discovered over the years that I did not require books or scrolls to carry out my incantations, and unlike the others, my magic came from within and not from the ancient tomes housed in the Tower’s libraries. I had a tempest living within me and I sought to control it.
The time came, and I carried out my plan with deft precision, from the tiniest detail of drugging the Tower’s water supply to the cataclysmic meteor swarm I summoned to crush the Tower and its occupants.
Once the dust had settled, all but the Archmage had perished. He crawled out from amongst the rubble and corpses and looked at me with sadness in his eyes.
“What have you done?”
I placed my boot on his back and pushed his crippled body back down onto the ground.
“I cleansed the stain that you called a place of learning. All that’s left between me and my rightful place is you.”
“What drove you down this dark path, Xensor?” His words were feeble, his life force fading.
“You did when you refused to see that I was unique and like no other.”
I raised my hand and uttered a single word. The magic flared from my hand and the Archmage lay dead at my feet.
I stood in palpable silence and examined my handiwork.
I was unique once more.
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