A soft glow traveled from the high crystal towers, down into their chambers, providing just enough light for the work of arcane students to practice. "Again." Across the purple and black runed walls sat a young boy, his eyes a deep green. "The magics you are concentrating on don't just fly out of your hands when you shout; you have to know them from the very air they fill, the deep corners of arcane energy that fill this very room. And not just because it's enchanted. Stand up, wipe your eyes, and do it again." The boy had the body of a child for his species but the pointed ears and elongated face held more secrets. He stood, the glistening white robes he had been dressed in dragging on the floor.

"Stance." His legs lightly parted, and his hands were held in front of him. "Movement." With a gentle sway, the hands cupped, taking the shapes needed for the art to flow through. A soft black glow enveloped his hands and grew thicker, becoming a mist around him. His hands struck like a viper, a black ray exploding from his fingertips as they shook. The ray didn't travel far before rebounding, the pushing black energy becoming larger and blowing up in his face. He hit the ground for the third time in their day of study and was overcome by the backfiring of his magic. His instructor sighed and beckoned through a window in the room for the healer to return. "Listen, Huors." The boy groaned and lifted his head. "Your talent can carry you as far as any wielder of the art, or any fool who thinks they can match wits with one of my students. You need to give your body more time to grow before it can handle the backlash. Why not focus more on your divination?" The boy wiped his mouth on his robes and stomached his food with some effort. "Divination is not the magic of my blood, what uses have I to know the future when I will live to see it?" A smile rose to his instructors lips. "With an attitude like that, you might just not. When the healer is done, we will break for food, I will be in the courtyard."

The pink leaves from the summersong trees drifted across the lush grass of the courtyard. Huors stumbled from the doorway and into the damp grass, dirtying his robes with mud. "You're a filthy child you know." His instructor laughed, her voice spun from the trees where she balanced with ease to enjoy her break. The boy sat under the tree and began thumbing a close by blackberry bush, picking his fill. "Have you ever seen the magic beyond the walls Miss?" She sighed and looked down upon the boy. "What worries you of the outside world and its magic when you can't go a day without mastering your own? I have seen it, and it is corrupt. The race of men has taken the tradition of The Art and bent it to a quick and simple way to power or wealth." Continuing to stain his robes, the boy rudely spoke with a mouthful. "Maybe one day we could show the world all the beautiful forms of The Art you teach, even a place for my gifts must be somewhere." Sensing the grim future that awaited his curiosity, she shrugged and smiled. "Perhaps. Oh come here, your robes won't last a day at this rate." She took hold of him and the blackberries he held, breathing into the handful of them. With a quick burst of smoke, the dark juice spread across his robed, dying them a deep red on the inside, and as dark as the night sky outward. "Never have shame in the gifts your blood has given you. Wear them not with pride, but knowledge of what you have, and still yet to gain."

With a glance to the sky, she could tell the signal would ring soon, and the day had been wasted. "Run home, be here tomorrow at dawn." With a pat she was off, disappearing into the thick underbrush of the courtyard. Huors made his way out of the tower and into the streets. The children who attended the regular school would be finished soon and pouring into the streets to run home before dusk fell. He broke into a light run to avoid the ridicule he would surely face and arrived at his home