Somniabor

The beginning of greed

A puppet stood in a tiny room somewhere in the university student quarters.

Their wooden body ached as they were running around in circles.

Understandably so, since the idea of Logorithmic incantation functions is certainly not a painless concept to wrap your head around. It requires both a flexible understanding of algebra and physical casting.

Sadly, walking along the same path over and over did not lead to a breakthrough.

"So if I invert x, I can set a maximum for the casting time? Then I can no, no, that's all wrong."

These ramblings did little to quell their frustration. It might have also been hard to focus due to the constant noise outside their dorm room.

Distracted by chattering students, running footsteps, and screaming children, Alex could not focus.

Something was off in all this noise. The chatter was just a little more hastened than usual. The footsteps filled with a lot more frantic speed and the screams, not the ones of joyous relaxation, but carrying absolute fear.

Alex halted.

Maybe they should take a look?

Their curiosity overwhelmed all else. Alex's uncertainty, their worry, dropped with the same motion as they opened the door.

What stared back at Alex was not what one would expect. It was not the familiar peaceful, although a bit stressed hallways of their university. It was also not Hell.

If one were to describe this atmosphere, Alex faced the moment so very before inferno, the precise second before everything broke apart.

And then, to their right, it all began to erupt.

An insurmountable wave of people, fire, and screaming washed out from around the corner.

Their instinct overwhelmed thought. Alex started running, sprinting as fast as their feeble legs could take them. The fire sizzled up at one side, and countless cries for both violence and mercy rang through the hallway.

The singular half-reasonable thought shooting through Alex's mind was that simply running in the same direction and at a slower pace than that wall of destruction would not lead to a desirable outcome. Meaning Alex should probably try to change course.

The path disappointingly did, at least at that moment, not promise much variety.

But as it is often said, when one door closes, there is always a

semi-passthrough window nearby.

The Window was sadly not as incorporeal as one might have hoped. Alex had to suffer the pain of hundreds of glass pieces cutting into their wooden body.

That misery only vanished with the far greater agony of the hard ground seven meters below them.

The world was a blurry mess. It seemed to move ever so far out of eyesight. Alex tried to focus their eyes on this, to get it to stop doing pirouettes. But what those eyes focused on made the indistinguishable seem far more comfortable.

Fiery death enveloped their entire existence, their home, their friends. All was set ablaze, destroyed, demolished.

But the flames were only a minuscule part in the annihilation of their life.

Golden rays struck down from the heavens, like bullets raining down on a cardhouse.

Parts of the building were torn apart and crumpled together in midair.

How could something like this happen?

How?!

Who would dare to attack one of the mightiest magic institutions in existence?

A building so full of magic beings of the highest excellency, the upper society of the grand tower would be worried.

With an uncountable number of magic fortifications strengthening every pebble in the vicinity.

But right then, those same fortifications were being torn to shreds. While the screams of unfathomable numbers of friends and enemies overwhelmed the air.

So Alex sat there on the cold, harsh, and wet ground. Burning the image of destruction into their dead eyes.

They couldn't tell how long they sat there, but it was too long. The sounds of debauchery grew louder with every second. They needed to get out of here. It wasn't safe. But where could one go? If the school wasn't secure, what place was it? With tears flowing out of their eye holes, Alex got up and ran. Sliding through holes in what once was an impassable wall. Wriggling through tight and dark city crevices, they fled away further and further.

Sprinting turned into limping. Alex could not recall a time they were ever more exhausted than right at that moment. The fear and loss were like chains trying to prevent each step.

Alex stopped. Without knowing, they ran to the chapel. It was a captivating building, made out of glistening white marmor and an uncountable number of brilliant stained glass windows. At the right time of day, the cyan of the rooftops invoked the image of expensive jewelry.

It had always been a place of unity and civility. A place where every group and community could lay down their differences and discuss the nature of peace.

In this ocean of flames and fear the chapel stood strong, like a cliff against the waves.

Alex ran as fast as they could through the crowd of people fleeing the city. A pitiful attempt, if a mighty enough mage had it out for you escaping to an open field was not exactly the best idea. You could say it was the best for the mages because they wouldn't have to get a permit for any of the excessive collateral damage they would undoubtedly cause.

This train of thought was put to an abrupt end by the solid Ivory door, which was locked as one would expect from a building with huge political importance. Politicians wouldn't want any vandalists or refugees to get access to its inside.

But there was a good reason to get an education in the magics, you knew where someone would cheap out on their defenses.

So instead of using any force whatsoever, Alex casted one of the most trivial telekinesis spells to move one of the window handles on the inside.

Finally safety,

and in that safety all their built up adrenaline passed, Alex collapsed on the floor.