Smoking with a Magus

A novice to magic will have many questions for his/her instructors, but it is the Master Magus within that has the answers...

The Magus Ifrit lights a cigar in contemplation of her studies. She can speak with the masses and know an individual's class in a few shared sentences. Because of this, she knows why she prefers to converse with other magicians rather than waste time with warriors.

A puff of smoke billows from her lips at the thought. I wonder about Berserkers, then, she muses.

As she closes her eyes, a vision of her headmaster persona emerges from the smoke. Berserkers are like Paladins in their potential, and as such they are an excellent and well-rounded breed. They are moreso like summoned familiars, for their magic is raw. The difference between the Magus and the Berserker is that the Magus has control, whereas the Berserker does not.

Another puff of smoke is inhaled and released. Ifrit's mind stills to silence for a moment before returning to her studies.

"I believe I know more Magicians than I'll admit," she smiles whilst speaking to the trees amidst sunset.

Bards, Berserkers, Dark Artists and the like... These are specific fields. The specialty does not alter the class of Magician. Hence why the success rate of common society, despite its politics, is so apparent these days.

She glances at the cigar between her middle and forefingers with a sigh at the sight of a mere two inches of tobacco remaining and takes another hit, then waves a hand to clear the air of the fumes. The apparition of her headmaster, one of many personas within, vanishes with the dissipating wisps.

If intellectuals, then, are merely "those who think," than my kind exists in a wider community than I thought. It is not a wonder, she concludes as she snuffs out the embers of the cigar's remnants and starts back to a room within the Tower, Not a wonder at all that my community of peers and close ones continues to grow. Therefore, I am understood, and if this is such, I needn't worry about the frivolous complaints of social circumstance. I must simply weave my magic as they cast their spells upon me, and as a whole we will create a new life."

Author's Note

This story is a reflection in fantastical form.