Azar sat alone in the dense forest, surrounded by towering trees whose leafy branches stretched high above, filtering the late afternoon sunlight into a soft, greenish glow. He nervously fiddled with his wand, a plain, unimpressive stick that felt heavier than usual today. His family had finally taken matters into their own hands, hiring a magic expert who, they claimed, was among the best. Azar couldn’t shake the feeling that this might be his last chance. If this expert couldn’t help him… well, then it was likely his family would give up on him entirely.
He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he stared down at his wand, willing it to spark to life in his hands, to feel even a glimmer of the magic that ran through his family’s veins.
-- "Come on,”
he muttered, flicking his wrist in a hopeful flourish. But instead of the gentle glow he’d hoped for, a jagged bolt of energy shot from his wand and struck the dry grass at his feet, setting it ablaze with a sudden burst of flame.
-- “Oh, no, no, no!”
Azar yelped, his eyes wide with panic as he fumbled, trying to put out the fire. He stomped on the flames, but they licked up around his feet, stubbornly refusing to be snuffed out. As he flailed, he looked up just in time to see a shimmering portal open in the space before him.
A figure stepped out, bathed in the glow of the portal’s fading light. Azar’s breath caught. The person had an aura of effortless power, the magic expert.
-- “Um, hello! I—I’m Azar!”
he managed, his voice cracking slightly. He tried to smile but quickly dropped it, worried it might make him look even more unprepared. As he introduced himself, he noticed, with growing horror, that the small fire was still smoldering at his feet.
-- “Just—just a moment,”
he stammered, nervously chuckling as he stomped harder on the flames.
-- "I—I didn’t mean to do that! I swear, it was just a little, um… test. Or practice! Yes, practice,”
he said, though the embarrassment on his face betrayed him.