"Focus," Xanthos said to his apprentice without looking up from the large oak desk. He ran his hand along his balding scalp, brushing back a few wispy strands of gray hair in a gesture from when he sported a full head of jet black locks.  "Ignore the sounds you hear and feel the energy. Let it flow to you and through you."
    A light morning breeze carried the smell of the sea and the sounds of the harbor into the upper chambers of the Arcanum, the center of learning for the Guild of Arcane Lore in the colonies.  Cedric, Xanthos' current apprentice, sat on the terra-cotta tiled floor and furrowed his brow in concentration at the white feather resting in his open palm. He glared at the feather and extended his consciousness until he could feel the connection to an alternative reality composed of nothing but air.
    "I can feel the Essence," Cedric said through clenched teeth. "I just can't shape it."
    "It is there," the master magician said. "Calm your mind. Draw it from the feather and shape it with directed will."
    "I know!" Cedric snapped, breaking his concentration. The flight spell collapsed, leaving Cedric breathing hard. Beads of sweat dripped into his eyes as his head slumped forward.
    The elder Magician regarded his apprentice. "Your eagerness is clouding your lessons."
    Cedric sneered knowing another lecture on the nature of spell casting was forthcoming. "Yes, Master."
    "Foci for powerful spells are the reverse of lesser castings," Xanthos said reciting one the early lessons every apprentice needed to memorize."
    Cedric finished the lesson he knew by rote. "The greater amount of Essence is easier to draw but harder to shape," Living on the streets as an orphaned half-breed he imagined magic would be the easy road to fame and fortune. Just pull some item from a pouch, think at it, and things happened.  He never imagined it took hours upon hours of study and practice.
    "You've been at the Arcanum longer than any other apprentice," Xanthos said with a sigh. "You should have long since become a journeyman. Yet, your constant haste causes you to struggle with other than the most basic of spells." Xanthos hobbled over to a shelf covered with scrolls. "You’d think with elfin blood flowing in your veins magic would come easier to you, at the very least, inherited some of their renowned patience."
    Cedric wrinkled his nose. "I am not an elf!" He hated being reminded about his elfin linage and constantly tried to blend in with the other students. However, his blonde hair and fair skin stood out like a candle in the darkness of human coloring. Even in old age, Xanthos' skin color nearly matched the floor tiles, while Cedric, even with one human parent, had skin almost white as snow.
    Xanthos selected several scrolls and tucked them under his arm. "Today’s lesson is over. I have a meeting with Masters Flavious and Gaius. Sweep out the storage room, and then put to parchment what you felt and learned about today’s experience. It will help you remember."
    Cedric scowled at the old man. In the last few years, he’d really come to hate the stupid fool and the Guild in general. Cedric knew deep down the Arcanum held nothing else for him. He'd learned all the masters had to teach. Everything else would come with practice, and he didn’t need the collection of old men for that.
    "Yes, Master." Cedric stood up and pulled at his threadbare apprentice tunic, barely better than the rags he'd worn on the streets. After several years of wear, the wool made his skin itch. He couldn't wait to be rid of it and don the silk robes of a true magician. "Will there be anything else?" he asked.
    "Since I plan on reading your observations, please form your letters carefully this time," Xanthos said.
    The sound of his master's cane clicking on the hard stone floor rattled Cedric's teeth. Cedric shuffled his feet toward an alcove filled with racks of old scrolls and earthenware jars.  He picked up the simple straw broom resting in the corner and watched Xanthos move out the door.
    "I hate this place. It's nothing more than a prison," he said once Xanthos pulled the heavy door shut on his way out. Until he could prove he would not be a danger to himself or others, the self-appointed overseers of magic would keep him trapped within their walls.
    Cedric wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve and lazily leaned on the broom. He imagined himself a powerful wizard where kings and queens quaked at the mere mention of his name. "Cedric the Great, Emperor of Demovia," he said seeing himself sitting on a massive throne of gold with thousands of fanatical worshipers bowing before him.
    The broom broke with a snap and jolted Cedric back to the present. Caught off balance, his failing arms knocked several ceramic jars from a nearby shelf to the ground.
    "Bloody hell," Cedric cursed.
    In the alcove's dim light, a soft blue glow pulsed amid the broken shards. Cedric brushed aside the debris and noticed a sphere the size of this fist glowing from within. He watched blue and white colors swirl across the surface, wondering what it was and how it came to be in the storeroom.  Ignoring his lessons on the proper handling of unknown enchanted items, he reached for it with his bare hand. The sphere rolled slowly away from his outstretched fingers, coming to rest between two tiles. Cedric gave the sphere the same angry look he'd given the feather earlier. Unwilling to be denied, he snatched the glowing sphere from its resting place with lightning speed.
    "Free me." The words seemed to come from all around him and echoed several times before dying down to a soft murmur. A Line
    Cedric's heart pounded in his ears. "Is this another stupid lesson?" he said and kicked a large pottery shard against the wall. "I'm not going to play this game,"
    "I sense your frustration. Release me and I will teach you powerful magics," the voice said calmly and with less echo.
    "I'm not inept," Cedric said picking through the various jars and boxes. "You were imprisoned in that sphere for a reason."
    Cedric searched through herbs, powders, and various components needed for the casting of spells for a container large enough to hold the sphere. He managed to find a wood box containing only a few small bits of bark he couldn't identify. "Perfect," he said and emptied the contents on the floor.
    "Please, child of the elves, at least tell me what happened after the Lycadian invasion?"
    Cedric stared at the sphere in his hands thinking about the many warnings against of touching unknown enchanted objects. "How do you know I’m part elf?"
    "Only an elfin born could move fast enough to overcome the repulsion spell of the sphere."
    Relieved touching the sphere did not enable it to probe or control his thoughts, Cedric said, "If you mean the Lycadian Empire, it collapsed over a thousand years ago."
    "And what became of the Elves," the voice asked.
    Cedric held the sphere above the open box.  "Only a few exist. They live in small tribes south of the colonies."
    "How sad, invasions so successful, a millennium later the Elves are scattered and dying like the leaves of a tree." The voice sounded dejected. "Perhaps it is best that you leave me to my isolation so that I can not see this sad fate."
    Cedric suddenly felt sad and he thought he saw the sphere glow a pale blue at the same time. In the silence of the storeroom, Cedric's thoughts turned to how the other students at the Arcanum, even his own mentor, often ridiculed him. Before the Guild discovered his penchant for arcane arts, he lived in alleys and begged for food. "All because I am Elfin," he said with a sigh. "A conquered people."
    "It was not always so," the voice said softly.
    Cedric squeezed the sphere tightly. "Were you imprisoned for being an elf?" he demanded. "Tell me the truth because I can sense deception," Cedric lied, believing the sphere had no way of knowing the extent of his abilities.
    "When the humans invaded the lands of the Elves, powerful wizards struck down the entire Elfin Council," the sphere said. "A few members where trapped within in phylacteries like this one."
    "I never heard of a council," Cedric mumbled.
    "Together we could rebuild what the humans destroyed. The Elfin nation can thrive once again under your wise leadership."
    Cedric smiled at the idea. "What would it take to free you?"
    "Just a few things. A pentagram of gold dust and material representing each of the four elements: bowl of clear water, a handful of rich loam, a vial of your breath, a fuelless fire.
    "Doesn’t sound all that much," Cedric said. He remembered seeing a magical brazier in Master Flavius’ office, one that burned with neither wood nor coal.
    "Sadly, my physical presence is no more," the voice explained. "In order for me to walk the material realm once again, I will need a new vessel - a body dead less than half of an hour."
    Cedric took several shallow breaths. "I’ll need to kill somebody?"  
    "Kill one of the humans," the voice said. "They murdered thousands of elves. They destroyed the cities, the villages, the monuments, everything. Hate them. Hate the humans for what they’ve done to your people, to your heritage."
    "But won't you be human, too?" Cedric asked.
    "Once my spirit has entered the body, we will transform it into something more appropriate."
    Xanthos never used the term "we" in his teaching. He lectured on personal discovery, and magical responsibility, never offering any real assistance. Cedric grinned at the idea of teacher and student working together.
    Putting the glowing sphere in a belt pouch, Cedric headed back into the main study and opened the bottom drawer of the desk. Inside was a large dagger Xanthos enchanted for a minor noble, but when the noble died suddenly, the master wizard decided to keep the blade for himself. Cedric grasped the gold handle and saw how the runes etched into the blade glowed softly. "This should do, I suppose," he said and tucked it in his belt.
    Cedric crept up the empty stone stairs to Master Flavious' study. Apprentices wouldn't be traversing the dark stone passageways on tasks for their masters until after mid-day studies.  
    He cracked open the thick door to the private quarters of Master Flavious. Marcus, another apprentice, sat at a small desk with his head bent in concentration. In the far corner of the room sat the magic brazier Cedric desired.
    Cedric's mouth went dry. He swallowed hard and slipped back into the hallway. "I could find another. Somebody who wouldn't be missed, like a dock worker or perhaps somebody drunk in an alley," he said in a low voice, wondering if the sphere could hear him without contact. His fingers slipped into the belt pouch and brushed the sphere within. Red bolts of lightning raced up his arm. The hallway seemed to spin. Cedric's fear washed away and he burned with rage. He no longer saw another apprentice, just a human invader.
    Cedric pushed open the door and walked in with his head held high, his lips pulled tight.
    "Greetings. Cedric, isn’t it?" Marcus asked. "How can I help you?"
    Cedric said nothing. He shut the door and closed the distance between them in three quick strides. Marcus stood up with a smile while Cedric's arm moved with the lightning reflexes elves were renowned for. He pulled the dagger from his belt and drove up into Marcus' jaw. The enchanted blade slid completely through until the tip protruded out the top of the skull. The apprentice slumped to his knees and collapsed on the floor with his eyes still open.
    "I thought you might need a little help getting over your apprehension," said the voice.
    Cedric breathed for the first time since opening the door. He leaned against a chair as the enchantment faded and left him feeling dizzy and disoriented.
    "Do not dawdle," the voice said. "You must complete the casting within the next fifteen minutes or the body will continue to decay even after the spell is completed. I have no wish to be a zombie."
    Letting go of the sphere, Cedric reached into another pouch and produced a small vial of quicksilver. Concentrating, Cedric drew out its Essence. He felt it gather around him as he shaped it into a large glowing disk about three hands from the ground.
    "Guild Master Cedric. Elfin Lord Cedric. Arch Mage Cedric," he mumbled, thinking of the new title he wanted to go by.
    Cedric pulled Marcus’ heavy body onto the glowing disk. He hastily folded up the brazier, carelessly tossed it next to the body, and bolted back down the hall to his master's study, the disk trailing close behind.
    Moving quickly, he set up the brazier and released the tug in his mind. The disk vanished and Marcus dropped to the floor with a thud. His sandals slapping on the tiles, Cedric burst into the storeroom and quickly selected the other elemental items he needed including a bag of gold dust. Racing back to the center of the room, Cedric hastily poured the dust in a circle with a five-pointed star in the center.
    Cedric jammed his hand into his belt pouch and scooped out the sphere. "I've finished the pentagram."
    "Good, now place the elemental items on four of the points and my prison on the fifth. Stand in the center and draw out the Essence from each element equally until you feel you can’t hold anymore, and then focus all of it toward the sphere.  This will weaken the magical boundaries. I will complete the rest of the spell."
    Cedric did as the sphere instructed. The innate elemental Essence eagerly came unbound, even more so than the flight spell he attempted earlier.  The power through his mind blurred his vision. The outer circle of gold powder ignited into blue flame and the Essence enclosed Cedric in a dome of scintillating colors, but something felt...wrong.
    The sound of metal crashing on stone weakened his concentration and Cedric focused his vision on the interruption. The intersecting lines of his pentagram point were misaligned slightly and caught the brazier in the wave of magical energy instead of being enclosed by it. A hole quickly appeared in the energy bubble near the overturned brazier. He tried to contain the magic, willing the rift closed, but the opening pulled at him, drawing out power as the dome deformed. A wall of uncontrolled magic raced along the gold dust towards him. He screamed as the energy burned the flesh on his hands down to the bone. The miscast wall of magic continued through him, bursting his tunic into flame and blistering the skin underneath. Cedric’s charred frame fell to the ground, and without an active mind, the flow of magic subsided.
    The noise brought the attention of several students with Xanthos hobbling along behind. The crowd parted and allowed the master wizard to enter the room.  Concentrating on what would cause such a scene, he noted the hastily drawn pentagram, the poor placement of the elemental items, and the glowing blue sphere.
    "What happened, Master?" one of the students asked.    
    Xanthos ordered the gathering crowd to stay in the hall without offering an explanation. He cast several divination spells and sensing no magics emanating from the pentagram, stepped into the room. Despite the lack of active magics emanating from the circle, Xanthos smudged a charred line with his toe, breaking its continuity and ruining any abjuration it could focus; a lesson learned long ago during his own apprenticeship.
    Xanthos saw the enchanted dagger protruding from the skull of Marcus and felt a wave of guilt from his own enchantments being used so. His gaze shifted to the unrecognizable charred body and he carefully turned it over.  The slight build and tufts of blond hair confirmed what he suspected: Cedric. He focused his divinations on the sphere and, sensing no disruptions in the magics of the prison, calmly picked it up.
    "You can not keep me imprisoned forever, darling," said the sphere's voice seductively.
    "You will remain locked in this prison for your wicked deeds forever. It was by your hand the Guild outlawed necromancy so the living and the dead can never again fall victim to your evil brand of magic."
    Red bolts of lightning rippled across the sphere and tried to climb up the Wizard's arm.  Extending his will, he suppressed the wave of rage until the sphere pulsed with a scarlet aura. Xanthos projected his thoughts directly into the sphere as he walked into the storeroom. You hold little power over me, my dear. Just because you once held sway over my heart, does not mean you do so now.
    "One day, I will be free," the voice said.
    Xanthos stood amid the pottery shards and seeing the broken broom, surmised the chain of events. "Your binding takes a master to dispel, not an angry apprentice."
    Selecting the same box Cedric emptied, Xanthos placed the orb within.  He sealed the lid with a powerful warding and wrapped an additional enchantment through the wood to protect it from breakage. With a wince, he forcibly extracted his own Essence to make the enchantments permanent. Xanthos returned to the crowd of students, and knowing he had to give some explanation, simply stated, "Incompetence bred of arrogance breeds only chaos."

The End