In the middle of the woods, stood a comfortable cottage with vines wrapping themselves on its walls. Several flowerbeds were planted near the front door, giving the cottage a fresh look. A few particles of smoke managed to make their way through the chimney, and into the open air. Weirdly enough, it smelled like good old-fashioned soup, indicating that whoever lived there was cooking.
A young mage stood in the cottage's front yard, their scarlet hood covering their face.
With their tiny hands, they held up a grimoire and began trying to cast a spell as a small purple glyph in the shape of the sun appeared on the ground beside them.
A bright sword, seemingly made of light, began to form on the glyph.
The mage grinned, proud that they can finally summon a sword.
But as they began to pull the sword out of the glyph, the sword began to dissipate before disappearing into thin air, alongside their glyph.
The mage let out a frustrated groan as they threw their grimoire into the ground.
The grimoire, angry that it had been treated unfairly just because the spell failed, flapped its pages before throwing itself on the mage's face.
The mage's eye twitched in annoyance.
Suddenly, the cottage door was opened, and an old man walked out of it with a small chuckle.
"Still can't summon a weapon?" he asked.
The young mage let out a sigh as the old man approached them, his long white hair flowed as he walked, alongside his dark blue robe.
"I was so close!" the young mage complained, "But for some reason, I always fail every time I try to pull it out of my glyph..."
The old man strokes his long, white beard, as he stared at the young mage.
"What you lack, my dear, is creativity," the old man said, "What kind of weapon did you imagine yours to be?"
The young mage awkwardly scratched the back of their neck.
"A...normal sword...?"
The old man let out a hearty laugh.
"Well, that's a start," he said, "But, what kind of sword is yours?"
"I don't know, should it matter?" the young mage asked, "I mean, as long as it's a weapon that I can use, right? Besides, why do I have to summon a weapon anyway? Isn't magic used to replace weapons, not create them?"
The old man gave them a pat on the back.
"My dear, magic can be used for many things, including creating weapons," he said, "If you can't even create a simple, personalised weapon using magic, how will you be able to conjure living beings?"
The young mage looked away, feeling a bit discouraged. But the old man smiled at them, and gently handed them their grimoire.
"Now," he said, "Think about a weapon you'd like to have. Once you can visualise it clearly, try again."
The young mage held the grimoire in their small hands. Then, with a sigh, they opened the grimoire and closed their eyes.
A few moments later, a sun-shaped purple glyph appeared on the ground beside the young mage. A strong gust of wind surrounded the young mage as something bright began to form on the glyph, and the grimoire began to float into the air.
YOU ARE READING
Before There Was Braveheart
FantasyA highly skilled assassin found himself dealing with an impossible commission from a high-ranking commissioner. He was tasked to find the Long-Lost Princess, preferably alive, with the promise that he would receive the payment of a lifetime. Disguis...
