Of Mortal Dreams: Chapter III

Revon

“Magic is, by nature, destructive.”

Pens scratched against parchment. The studious ones took notes. The less-so, the ones who would become watchers and lessers, did not. Revon walked towards the great open side of the room that overlooked the northern sea. In a rare display of truly warm weather, the water glittered under a noonday sun, oscillating flecks of diamond-bright light. He felt the refracted glare against the backs of his eyes and squinted. The distant growl of crashing waves rose with the breeze, little more than a whisper by the time it reached the rounded stone walls of the classroom. He turned once again to his students, their eyes following his every movement.

“And, as all of you discovered before coming to Arysdur—perhaps by way of a plant, or an animal, or a person—any mage can destroy,” he went on. “A good mage, the very best, destroys for the benefit of the Counsel,” Revon said, turning on his heel and looking over the handful of faces. “To which we owe our present pe…