Edgar Spelljack
59 Spring, 514 AV
Edgar Spelljack missed the thrill of his old days. As a competent dentist with a stable home, he couldn't ask for more, it seemed. However, he was bored just like every other person tends to be at one point or another, and in response, since he had the rest of the day off, Edgar took a stroll to the Stone Gardens. At midnight, nobody would be in the garden, he thought. Edgar arrived at forty-five chimes past. He sat down on the ground and listened closely to the silence. His ears rung, but the still air was interrupted by the occasional dog’s howl, child’s wail, and cricket’s chirp. Edgar began to feel a slight drizzle, a lonely drop of rain from the black sky. He quickly rose, realizing that he had to use his fire immediately in the case that heavy rains were to come.
Sticking his hands out, Edgar closed his eyes. He pushed a piece of himself out to his palms, a feeling like blood coursing through every single vein in his body, all at once and toward his two palms. He opened his eyes and stared at the green glow, which he could see around his fingers, even though his palms were facing away from him. The feeling of giving had left, but his magic wasn't done.
Edgar inhaled and then exhaled sharply, the green djed bursting into fire. The bright red fire balls were now in place of the green plasma-like substance. Edgar released the fire from his hands and watched it soar through the air, the fire suddenly larger than from when it was in his hands. The two fireballs crashed against the wall and disappeared, but not before they each shook the ground, spread out in respective circular fan shapes, and made black charred spots on the stone wall that, because of their proximity, overlapped in one large black mark.
Edgar's eyes widened, and he suddenly remembered about the guards. Looking around frantically, Edgar crouched next to a statue for nearly half a bell, until he gave up and decided that the guards were not in their prime today.
Although taking more caution with his proceeding several blows, Edgar began to feel fatigued, but he knew he was not likely to find another chance to exercise his beloved skill. So he continued, making spirals and beams of fire, but being careful so as not to damage anything. Magic was frowned upon by everyone and those that practiced it openly had tainted reputations. Edgar stuck his hand out and was about to release another blow, panting and exhausted, when he thought he heard someone. He looked worriedly at the stone walls, which he expected to still be charred. However, they were wiped away now as a result of the rain. The water was pouring from the sky. Slapping and dripping was heard all around as the rain fell upon the slabs of stone. The smell of the rain was wonderful. Edgar's hat shielded him from the shower; the drops rolled down his hat and created a ring of streaming water around his head. He stood in the garden and watched the drops fall off the brim of his now heavy hat. Then he remembered that he had heard a noise. He turned around curiously, hyperventilating, his whole body aching and his hands numb.
“Magic can be found in stolen moments.”
