-1I reluctantly open my eyes and stare at the oh so familiar ceiling of my humble apartment. The pine ceiling above me is full of little knotty face, many of them I've named, some I have not. The cross beams run the length of the room, spanning some 8 yarls. This being the 12th day of Darnaster in the 1,847th year since the Heaven's Parted. A very important day for myself and my peers.
I am myself and only me. My name is Vaughn and am a student of the magic known to the world as Blue. Throughout this planet called Alpinse, raw and founding energy exists. Every aspect of the world begins and end with it. We are known as "cheaters" by the ones who practice the form of magic named Black. They are ones who possess raw control over three of the four basic elements and also over the realms of negative energy.
Being a Blue Mage, one who is a scholar of sides of magic, is a difficult disciple. He learns magic through experience and experience alone. We choose ultimate versatility over raw power. It is a hard earned path which I have embraced and enjoyed. Today is a graduation day of sorts. In actuality, it's the first day of another year of study. For three years, a Blue Acolyte (like myself) trains and studies the basic principles of Blue Magic. At the end of the third year, the title of Blue Disciple is achieved. But, to gain the full title of Blue Mage a student of the Asterian Blue Mage Academy must travel the world for one full year and return to demonstrate what he or she has learned.
Since I was a child, I realized I was attuned to the forces of planet. This was recognized only by self, however. Of course I'm not saying that I am special at all. Everyone has equal potential in my book, I was just rather curious in all aspects of the word. I cared more for bird watching and playing my ukulele in lieu of mathematics. Although my mischievous ways never got me in any real trouble, my poor grades did. My parents were always on my case but I could always change their minds with a song or two.
So, when I told my mother and father of my wishes to enroll in the Academy they were quite thrilled. They understood that I would excel in the world of the abstract, as I always had. My mother learned some White Magic when she was young but now she is baker, though she still holds the credo of positivism in her heart. My father on the other hand was a gruff mercenary in his younger days, though today it's hard to notice. Except for the muscles and scars, he appears to be a friendly butcher.
And now I get out from my bed with a sudden jump, like I always do. This has quite often given me a head rush and today is no exception. I stumble across the room and recover myself eventually. My reflection mocks me in the mirror and I smile. He does that a lot. I strike a power pose and broaden my grin while sucking in my chubby stomach. I look down at the that annoying hardness and shake my head. Every single morning, it never fails…
"Well, when that dies down and the last three chicken eggs are in our stomach, how about we go down to the public bath and get cleaned up. We can't be looking all shambly-wambly on a day like today, now can we?" I say to my reflection.
He doesn't say anything back like usual. So, I guess I will take the silence as an agreement. I turn on the gas stove and crack the eggs into my trusty skillet. Today is the last day of having such comforts on a daily basis.