Honestly, it wasn’t expected. It was hardly even imagined. When one of the Masters of the Academy stopped in the street to see a young, dark haired elf striding through the crowd towards him, he expected some sort of begging or soliciting, especially due to the ratty attire of the man. Something in his bearing, though, something haughty, prevented the Davin of the Conjuration School from dismissing the boy outright. Davin was human, hardly forty years of age, still coming into the prime of his spell casting ability. He swiftly muttered a quick spell under his breath, subtly bringing forth a shield that would protect him from all but the strongest blows. It ever pays to be cautious.
The elf smiled grimly as he stopped before Davin, his features twisting somewhere between humor and something… darker.
“That won’t be necessary,” he said softly, extending his hand. Davin started as he saw the elf’s eyes tracking the lines of his near-invisible armor. “Kistor, once of…” The elf trailed off, his brow furrowing. “I guess it doesn’t matter.”
“What do you want?” Davin put bluntly. “I haven’t the time for solicitations, and if you think…”
“Solicitation? Are you serious?” Kistor asked, waving his hands irritably. “Humans, ever so direct, ever in such a hurry.”
“So now you insult my race,” Davin said, stepping to the side to pass him by. “Good day, sir. Whatever your name was.”
A hand shot through the armor he was wearing and grabbed his shoulder roughly, twisting him back around so he stared into two very intense, very angry eyes. Davin began to speak a word of magic, but Kistor’s eyes narrowed dangerously and he found himself intimidated in spite of himself.
“Kistor,” the elf practically hissed.
“What do you want?” Davin asked, clearly at a loss.
“Take me on as an apprentice,” Kistor said, stepping away from him, all smiles and calmness. “I have rudimentary training, the proper focus, and the desire to learn. Surely, all positives in seeking an apprentice. I know for a fact that you don’t currently have a direct understudy, so I came to the decision that I would fill that role for you.”
“You think you are the first to ask to be my apprentice?” Davin asked haughtily, straightening his shoulders as he remembered his place. “Others who can pay (he emphasized the word as he looked Kistor up and down) and have more than just ‘rudimentary training’”
“None like me,” Kistor said, shaking his head firmly. “You do not understand me if you think that any petty lordling would make a better apprentice. I have been hardened by… real experience, we might say.”
“Experience with what?” Davin had to ask.
“Oh, life,” Kistor said flippantly, his manner too casual. “But I will be at the Academy’s gates in the morning, dressed in far more proper attire. I expect to be granted admittance.”
“You expect?” Davin asked in a disbelieving voice. “How…” But he trailed off, because Kistor was already walking away. Davin shook his head as he continued his jaunt through the streets, more wary now than ever.
“Such arrogance,” he said, shaking his head at the youths these days. He glanced back though, catching sight of Kistor’s strong back and proud bearing walking through the crowd as if he owned the city. “Such confidence,” Davin said quietly to himself, an appraising tone in his voice.
