Every 500 years, the dragon who founded the Academy arrives to choose a student to tutor directly. You are the weakest mage on record and she has chosen you.
“Clearly you aren’t getting the attention and assistance you need to thrive from your teachers and other faculty.”
“I-I don’t if I’d say that. I’m just… not very gifted.”
“Gifted and capable are two different things. We just need to find out what the issue is and work around it. Do you know, I couldn’t breathe fire until I was a full millennium old? Everyone in my life told I should be able to, it’s so easy, it’s innate. I felt like a failure, like I was just so lazy and weak that no matter how much I wanted to do it, I clearly didn’t want it enough. But you know I learned?”
“What?”
“I have a deficiency. I physically cannot produce the magic required to breathe fire on my own. I need to eat extra timber with every meal, and consume Enchantments of Flame once a day. Let’s find your timber and enchantments to consume.”
“… Metaphorically speaking?”
“Possibly. We can’t rule it out until we know what we’re treating, though.”
“Possibly. We can’t
rule it out until we know
what we’re treating, though.”
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
