Azure awoke with a start, gasping for breath. His thin blankets were twisted around him in knots, damp with sweat. The remnants of the nightmare still clung to his mind like clinging vines - flames, screaming, and the feeling of helplessness as his magic spiraled violently out of control.
He untangled himself from the confines of his bed with a grunt and sat up, running shaky hands through his damp hair. The morning sunlight streamed in through the small window of his tiny hut, illuminating the dust motes that danced lazily in the air. Another birthday. His sixteenth.
Dread settled heavily in the pit of his stomach at the realization. According to village legend, magic awoke on a witchling's sixteenth birthday, taking whatever wild form it wished. But Azure had always hoped, always prayed, that the stories were just that - stories born of too much ale and superstition. Now it seemed his hopes had been in vain.
With a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and set about his morning routine - fetching water, stoking the fire, mixing oats for porridge. His hands shook no matter how hard he tried to still them. All the while, a storm of questions swirled in his mind. What form would his magic take? Fire, like his nightmare? Or ice, poison, earth? Would he even be able to control it?
As he ate his porridge, the metal spoon rattling noisily against the worn ceramic bowl did little to ease his fraying nerves. Today was the day of reckoning, for better or worse. He knew he should seek out Magus Galen, the village hedge wizard, for guidance. But a small, cowardly part of him wanted to hide away in his hut and pretend this day would not come to pass.
However, shutting himself away would change nothing. With a steadying breath, Azure steeled his resolve and set off toward the village center, nodding greetings to the hearty farmers already toiling in their fields as he passed. The familiar sights and sounds of everyday village life did little to mask the discord raging within. His magic was waking, and there was no escape.
Magus Galen's stone hut sat on the outskirts of the village proper, nestled within a copse of gnarled oak trees that seemed almost sentient in their twisting forms. Azure rapped his knuckles nervously against the worn oak door, half hoping the wizard would not answer so he could delay the inevitable just a little while longer.
But answer the wizard did, pulling open the wooden barrier to peer at Azure through wire-rimmed spectacles perched on the end of a long, crooked nose. "Ah, young Azure. I've been expecting you," he said in a dry, wispy voice. "Come, come. No need to linger in the doorway. Today is the day, is it not?"
Azure nodded mutely and stepped into the hut, letting out a small breath at the familiar scents of herbs, parchment and magic that greeted him. Galen closed the door softly behind them. "Tell me how you feel, child," the wizard prompted, gesturing for him to sit at a worn table.
So Azure did, explaining the nightmare, the dread, the tremors that refused to cease. Galen listened with a grave expression, nodding in all the right places. When he had finished, the wizard reached out a withered hand and laid it gently over Azure's still-shaking ones.
"Peace, child. All will be well," Galen soothed. "Your dreams hold meaning, as dreams often do. Fire is a gift, though a tricky one. But we shall harness its power together."
Hope bloomed anew in Azure's chest at the wizard's calm assurance. Perhaps all was not lost. Perhaps he did not have to flee alone into the wilderness, cast out and cursed. Galen would guide him.
Together, they began Azure's first magic lessons. Galen taught him meditation techniques to calm body and mind, philosophies of control and nonviolence. They practiced summoning small flames, then extinguished them with but a thought. The hours slipped by easily under Galen's tutelage, tension unwinding from Azure's shoulders with each successful spell.
By mid-afternoon, he had summoned and dismissed burning balls of magelight without issue nearly a dozen times. Elation and relief warred within - perhaps his magic could be wielded, not just endured. Lost in the joy of discovery and accomplishment, Azure grew careless. On his next attempt, the ball of magelight spun wildly out of control as soon as it formed, spiralling about the room like a caged beast.
Galen shouted a harried spell to snuff the flames, but not before they caught on a hanging tapestry. The old cloth went up in seconds, engulfing half the wall before the wizard could douse it. Choking smoke filled the small hut.
In the chaos, Azure lost what tenuous hold he had gained over his burgeoning magic. Tendrils of crimson flame whipped about the room unchecked, setting paper and furnishings alight. He watched in horror, paralyzed, as Galen battled the conflagration. The wizard's magic soon proved no match for Azure's unchecked power, fueled as it was by panic.
With a thunderous crack, the roof caught alight. Wood groaned and protested as flames consumed the rafters. Galen turned to Azure with a mournful expression, ash staining his grizzled face. "You must flee, child! Before the village sees what has happened here. I will hold them off as long as I am able."
Galen's words shattered Azure's paralysis. Nodding numbly, he fled into the forest as the hut collapsed into an inferno behind him. Black smoke billowed into the clear sky, an ominous signal. He had failed, given in to fear and lost control, just as he'd been shown not to do. And now an old man would pay the price, all because of Azure's lack of discipline.
Tears of anguish dripped unheeded down his soot-streaked cheeks as he ran. The nightmare had come to life, and there was no waking from this horror. He was cursed, a danger, and had no choice but to abandon the only home he had ever known. There was no coming back from this.
Azure was alone.