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. The salty air caused Master Magician Xanthos to absentmindedly run his hand along his balding scalp, brushing back a few thin wisps of gray hair in a habitual gesture from when he sported a full head of jet black locks.
    "Focus," he said softly without looking up from his large oak desk. "Ignore the sounds you hear and feel the energy. Let it flow to you and through you."
     Cedric, his current apprentice, sat on the terra-cotta tiled floor.  His brow furrowed in concentration at the single white feather resting in his open palm. Cedric glared at the feather and extended his consciousness until he could feel the connection to an alternative reality composed of nothing but air. It tugged at him. It pulled at his very being, yet he could not shape it into flight.  
    "I can feel the Essence," Cedric said through clenched teeth. "I just can't shape it."
    "It is there," Xanthos said calmly. "You need to draw it from the feather first, then shape it into the base elemental force of 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.
    “Now don’t go getting angry. Aren't the elves supposed to be the font of patience?"
    Cedric wrinkled his nose. He wasn't an elf. His mother or possible his father might have been, but the other was human, a Demovian. And, like all Demovians, he was snatched up by the Guild to be trained in the sane use of magic when his penchant for arcane arts was discovered by a guild inquisitor. Elves were exempt from Guild laws but were excluded from all colonial townships. They had their own lands and laws.
    "You’re just in a hurry to cast the spell. Take your time. Foci for powerful spells often are the reverse of lesser castings. The Essence is easier to draw, but harder to shape because there is so much of it."
     "Yes, Master," Cedric sneered. He hated being lectured on the finer points of spell casting. Living on the streets as an orphaned half-breed, he thought magic was the easy road to fame and fortune. Just pull some item from a pouch, think at it, and things happened. He never imagined it was hours upon hours of study and practice. Cedric was annoyed with the endless rules of how and when a guildsman can use magic.
    "You’d think with elfin blood flowing in your veins, magic would come easy to you," Xanthos said with a sigh. "And with those large ears you'd think you'd hear better too."
    Cedric hated looking different. He wanted to blend in but among the humans of Demova, his blond hair and fair skin was like a candle in the darkness of Demovian coloring. Even in old age, Xanthos' skin was nearly the color of the floor tiles, while Cedric, even with one human parent, was almost as white as snow.
    Xanthos hobbled over to a shelf covered with scrolls. He selected several and tucked them under his arm. "Today’s lesson is over. I have a meeting with Masters Flavious and Gaius. I want you to sweep out the storage room, and then put to pen and 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 there was nothing more he could learn from this place. Everything else would come with practice, and he didn’t need the old man for that. He had to prove he could use magic responsibly, so he was trapped, imprisoned by the great overseers of magic until they passed sentence he was not a danger to himself or others.  Cedric stood and pulled at his threadbare apprentice tunic. It was barely better than the rags he'd worn on the streets, and even 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.
    He slowly made his way to an alcove filled with racks of old scrolls and earthware jars.  He picked up the simple straw broom resting in the corner and watched as Xanthos moved out the door. The sound of his cane clicking on the hard stone floor rattled Cedric‘s teeth. He moved the broom back and forth across the tiles doing little more than shifting the dust back and forth. Once his master was gone, 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.
    He was jolted back to the present when the broom broke with a snap. Caught off balance, his failing arms knocked several ceramic jars from a nearby shelf to the ground.
     "Great! Just great," Cedric said.  
     In the alcove's dim light, there was a soft blue glow amid the broken shards. Cedric brushed aside the debris and noticed a small marble glowing from within. He watched as the blue and white colors swirled across the surface. Ignoring his lessons on the proper handling of unknown enchanted items, he reached for it with his bare hand. The stone rolled slowly away from his outstretched fingers, coming to rest between two of the tiles. Cedric scowled at the marble with the same angry look he'd given the feather earlier. Unwilling to be denied, he quickly snatched the glowing marble from its resting place with lightning speed.
    "Free me." The words seem to come from all around him and echoed several times before dying down to a soft murmur.
    His heart pounded in his ears. He considered dropping the marble and letting that stupid fool deal with it.
    "That would be a mistake." The voice was stronger now with fewer echoes.
    "Why," Cedric said out loud.
    "I sense your frustration. You know that you have finished your apprenticeship, yet your master does not."
       "Who are you?”
       "Does it matter? I can sense that you are ready to leave your training behind. Your elfin heritage will make you a better wizard than a human can ever hope to be."
       "How do you know I am part elf?"
       "Your reflexes betray your heritage. Only an elfin born could move that fast. Know this; elves do not cast spells the same way as humans. That is your problem. You are not human. Their methods are never going to unleash the caster within. Free me from this prison, and I will help you to become what you can only dream about."
       "Why were you imprisoned?" Cedric asked.
       Several seconds passed before the voice spoke. "I was trapped when the humans from Lycadia invaded from across the great sea. Their powerful wizards struck down the entire elfin council."
      Cedric knew that Lycadia was a large empire, encompassing most of the current countries of Demova. His history lessons where vague, but they did mention the Empire put down some colonies in the new world, but they were later abandoned when the Empire collapsed over a thousand years ago.
       "Lycadia was a long time ago, and there is no elfin council now. What few elves exist, live in small tribes south of the colonies and further inland."
       "I do not know the exact length of my imprisonment, but I suspect several generations must have come and gone. Enough time must have passed to wipe out the memory of the great elfin nation and the savage attack by the humans. Free me and I will tell you of your heritage. Of the proud and noble elfin way of life before humanity came to trod upon the western shores of the Elves. "
       "If I do, you’re claiming that you’ll help me become a powerful wizard?"
       "I will help you become more than that. You can become a new leader of the whole elfin people, of a new elfin council, and you can rebuild what the humans destroyed."
    Cedric liked the sound of that. "How do I free you?"
    "You need to create a pentagram of gold dust. Place this prison on the cardinal point. On the other points, place a brazier with material representing each of the four elements; clear water; a handful of rich loam; a vial of your breath; and a fuelless fire.
    "The fuelless fire will be difficult, but the rest doesn’t sound all that hard."
    "Sadly, my physical presence was destroyed when I was imprisoned. In order for me to walk the material realm, I will need a nearby vessel to enter once you dispel the imprisonment - a body dead less than an hour."
    "I’ll need to kill somebody?" Cedric felt his heart leap into his throat. He’d never killed anybody before.  
    "Kill one of the humans. They destroyed all of elfin kind. 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 then you’d be one too."
    "Once my spirit has entered the body, we’ll transform it into something more appropriate."
    Xanthos never used the term we in his teaching. He was constantly lecturing on focus, personal discovery, and magical responsibility, never any real assistance. As if a great veil had been lifted from his eyes, Cedric saw that he was in a world of humans. He was not one of them. He’d never been one.
    Cedric remembered seeing a magical brazier in Master Flavius’ office, one that burned with neither wood nor coal. If he was lucky, Flavius would be in the meeting with his master and Gaius. Flavius’ apprentice might still be in the study alone, or even with his master.
    Putting the marble in a belt pouch, Cedric headed back into the main study. In the bottom drawer of Xanthos' desk was a large dagger in a soft deerskin sheath.  Xanthos had enchanted the dagger for a minor noble, but when the noble was killed, he kept the dagger for himself. Cedric grasped the gold handle and slid the dagger out. A purple sheen danced along the blade and the runes glowed softly. He left the sheath on the desk and tucked the enchanted dagger in his belt.
    Cedric crept quietly up the stone stairs to Master Flavious' study. The chances he would meet somebody was slim as apprentices spend most of the morning with their personal mentors. Apprentices wouldn't be traversing the dark stone passage ways on tasks for their masters until after the mid-day meal.
    He cracked open the thick door to the private quarters of Master Flavious. Marcus, Master Flavious' apprentice, was seated at a small desk with his head bent down in concentration. Just behind him was the magic brazier that Cedric desired. A small black and gray cat sat on the edge of the desk. Its tale swished back and forth angrily knocking papers to the floor.
    "Stop it, Quattro," Marcus said with out looking up.  
    Cedric's mouth went dry and he froze with fear.  He just wasn’t up to the task and slipped back into the hallway. Trying to think of other options, his fingers slipped into the belt pouch and brushed the marble within. Suddenly Cedric's fear washed away. He was filled with drive. He no longer saw another apprentice, just prey. It was just another human.
    Cedric pushed open the door and walked in with his head held high.
    “Greetings.  Cedric, isn’t it?” Marcus asked. “How can I help you?”
    Cedric said nothing. He shut the door and closed the distance in three quick strides. Marcus stood up and with a very quick and smooth movement, Cedric pulled the dagger from his belt and drove it through the top of Marcus’ head. The enchanted blade slid easily through the bone. Marcus slumped to his knees, his eyes still open. Blood oozed slowly out the sides of the dagger.
    "I thought you might need a little help getting over your apprehension," said the voice.
       Cedric didn't realize he had been holding his breath this entire time. He felt weak in the knees and leaned against a chair as the presence started to fade. Letting go of the marble, he 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. Flight may be beyond his skill, but a Minweld disk spell was simple.
       After taking several deep breaths, he leaned down and pulled Marcus’ body up on to the glowing disk along with the small brazier. The disk followed him like a lost puppy as he cracked open the door and headed back down the hall.
    Cedric positioned the Minweld disk in the corner of the room. He picked up the brazier and released the tug in his mind. Marcus dropped to the floor with a thud. Cedric set the brazier of fire down and gathered up the other elemental items from the stockroom. He poured a line of fine gold dust in a circle before drawing the five-pointed star connecting each elemental representation. When he was done, he reached back into his pouch and grasped the marble.
    "Good, now place my prison on the unused point and stand in the center. You must draw out the Essence from each point equally until you feel you can’t hold anymore. Then focus all of it toward my prison.  This will weaken the magical boundaries. I will handle the rest of the spell for you once I am free."
    Cedric placed the marble on the empty point. Standing between the intersecting lines, he felt the different nature in the Essence from the four objects.  He extended his will and drew the Essence trapped within. Elemental power raced along the lines of gold dust and eventually toward him, flooding his senses. The power through his mind blurred his vision as he willed the combined essence away from him, toward the outer ring. The gold powder suddenly ignited and blue flames danced along the lines of the magical circle. He could feel the Essence enclose him like a soap bubble, but something wasn't right. The bubble felt . . . wrong.
       A crash, the sound of metal on stone, weakened his concentration and Cedric opened his eyes to notice that the brazier was no longer upright! His pentagram wasn't a perfect circle. As a result, the intersecting lines were misaligned catching the brazier in the wave of magical energy instead of being enclosed by it. A hole quickly appeared in the bubble near the overturned brazier. He tried to contain the magic, willing it back into a bubble, but the opening seemed to draw the energy out. Cedric felt the small opening explode and powerful bolts of raw magic raced towards him. He screamed as the energy burned the flesh on his hands down to the bone. His tunic burst into flame and the skin underneath blistered as the magic moved through him. When his mind let go of the Essence, the circle collapsed, the flow of magic subsided and Cedric’s charred remains collapsed to the ground.
    The noise brought the attention of several students with Xanthos hobbling along behind. The crowd briefly cleared to allow 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 lastly, the glowing blue marble.
    "What happened, Master?" one of the students asked.    
    He ordered the gathering crowd to stay in the hall without offering an explanation. Xanthos 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 the dust with his toe, breaking its continuity and ruining any abjuration it could focus. It was a holdover from his own apprenticeship and a chance encounter with a rogue caster.
    Xanthos saw the enchanted dagger protruding from the skull of Marcus and felt a wave of guilt from his enchantments being used so. His gaze shifted to the nearly unrecognizable charred remains, He carefully turned the body over. The light frame and tufts of blond hair confirmed what he suspected. This was his own apprentice. He then focused his divinations on the marble and, sensing no disruptions in the magics of the prison, calmly picked it up.
    "You can not keep me imprisoned forever, darling," said the voice seductively.
    "You hold little power over me, my dear. Just because you once held sway over my heart, does not mean you do so now. I assure you that you will remain locked in this prison for your wicked deeds until the end of time," Xanthos thought back as he walked into the storeroom. He ignored the wave of rage emanating from the marble. "The living and the dead will never fall victim to your evil magics again. Your binding takes a master to dispel, not an angry apprentice."  
    Xanthos stood amid the pottery shards. He noted the broken broom and surmised the chain of events. He found an empty jar and placed the orb within. He sealed the lid with a powerful warding, this time wrapping the enchantment through the earthen container to protect it from breakage before extracting his own Essence to make the enchantments permanent. Once he was done he stepped back before the crowd of students and set the jar on his desk. Knowing he had to give some explanation Xanthos simply stated, "Incompetence bred of arrogance only breeds chaos."