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so, she did.

Dreya teleported herself all over the place in front of his eyes and Xarnas’ astonishment grew. To learn teleportation like that was incredible. At that moment, he knew his retirement was postponed. He had always enjoyed teaching even the most challenging of students, but this one would be a challenge of an entirely different order. One could search for ten human lifetimes and still never find a student as intelligent, gifted and talented as this one, and she had just turned up on his doorstep. This was an opportunity he could not refuse.

Moving aside, he said, “Please come in, Apprentice Dreya.”

Stepping inside, she bowed and replied, “Thank you, Master Xarnas.”

No sooner had the Red wizard closed his door than a sound drifted on the air: the sound of the town hall clock striking midnight. Listening to the chimes, he remembered Dreya’s prediction that he would accept her as his apprentice ‘before this day is done’ and he had – just before the stroke of midnight. He stared open-mouthed at the teen who now stood inside his home.

“Speaking of lessons,” said Dreya, “I trust you have also learned yours?”

“And that lesson would be…?”

“Never to underestimate me again.”

The Red wizard would indeed never again underestimate her, and he firmly believed that anyone who did so in the future would be lucky if they lived to regret it.

*****

It was about three years into Dreya’s training, and she continued to surpass Xarnas’ wildest expectations. From the very first day, he had made it widely known that Dreya was with him, thinking that her parents or guardians would claim her. No-one ever did, and Dreya herself flatly refused to talk about her past. Her claim that she was from one of the Faery woodland communities didn’t exactly narrow it down – there were a dozen such places on the continent of Elvaria alone. So, for those three years, he unofficially adopted her.

She never shied away from hard work, and she never complained when he assigned her tasks and puzzles that were apparently unrelated to magic, seeming to instantly grasp the lesson he was trying to teach her and how that would later apply to her magic. Her questions were astute and challenging, her aptitude unparalleled. She wanted to know everything about how magic worked, down to the smallest detail and she grasped it all, although she wasn’t afraid to question assumptions and challenge beliefs.

Through it all, however, there was a puzzle about Dreya that Xarnas simply could not work out. He could sense the Darkness growing within her nature, demonstrated not least by her interest in blood magic, which had been attempted by Dark mages past. It was more powerful but had proven impossible to stabilise. It had been banned by both White and Red mages, but the Black robes would never agree to anything that stood between a mage and power. Even between the other two orders, there was disagreement. For the White robes, it was a banned subject, while for the Red robes, there was no such thing as forbidden knowledge. So, while Xarnas could not demonstrate any aspect of blood magic, he would not withhold information, so he shared what he knew. Being aligned with the Balance, Dreya’s Darkness neither feared nor worried Xarnas, for both Light and Dark magic had a place in the world.

Still, he was curious about Dreya’s attitude towards it and so, one day, he came right out and asked her, “Why have you chosen to study and train as a Red robe instead of the Black?”

“You learn more this way,” she answered, “gaining control and discipline. Pulling from both sides of the spectrum while being beholden to neither. One day, perhaps, I may take on the Black robes, but I will do so at a time of my own choosing. Dark magic will serve me, not the other way around. That is the mistake Dark mages always make in the end – they lose control. I will not. I shall be mistress of my own destiny, dancing to no-one's tune but my own. I know I am only at the beginning of my journey, but one day, I will be the Greatest Mage Who Ever Lived.”

Xarnas did not doubt that at all. At this stage in her training, of course, he had any number of spells up his sleeve that Dreya could not counter and in a mock battle, there were any number of ways he could beat her, although that number was getting smaller almost daily. One thing he could not do, however, was break her control: not of herself and not of her magic. He agreed with her mature assessment of Dark mages: they did lose control until the power consumed them. If Dreya could truly break free of that fate, then her potential was virtually limitless.

I wonder, gentle reader, if Xarnas ever truly realised how far Aunt Dreya would go, just as I wonder if any of us now understand how far she may yet climb.

Dreya’s studies with Xarnas lasted a little under five years. She absorbed everything she was exposed to until one day, after a full twenty-four hours of tests, both practical and theoretical, followed by an intense mock battle, the master found that his student had finally surpassed him.

Picking himself up off the floor, where Dreya’s magic had left him, he told her, “Congratulations, Dreya. I have taught you all that I can. I have nothing left to give you.”

“In that case, Master Xarnas,” she said, in that calm, quiet voice of hers, “I see no reason for me to stay any longer. Thank you. You may now retire.”

With that, she gathered her red robes around herself and made to leave.

“Where will you go?” Xarnas called after her.

She did not turn around, but she did pause at the door to answer, “Oh, I have a destination in mind. I’ve known since before I came to you. Now I am ready.”

Then, without so much as a ‘farewell,’

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