Throughout his classes the power level in him increased steadily. He knew by then it would reliably escalate quite apart from all the teachings of the schools, – it had a royal increase all its own.

He uncaringly added his own lyric endings to the chants of the Albion Druid Bards as they directed the elementals, he rudely finished the sentences of the soothsayers as they entered their trances. He cared nothing for their special gods, their special saints, or for the set rituals, the purifications on themselves before conducting their majicks. He swept away their specially placed conjuring stones, so he could sit.

At first each high teacher taught him expectantly, seeing it as their one turn to triumph at making him side with their version of inner light, but before long his aloofness rankled with them all. Set on his superior course all their feats seemed pathetic to him, most hexes and spells seemed silly, of no lasting importance. Flames from fingers, eyes, ears, the enlarging of people’s heads, dealing in pox and paralysis, appearing into rooms and realms and disappearing again, distorting bodies and animals and implanting fire worms, whatever, – these were classroom tricks. Their main purpose clearly was no more than to exalt the majic of the majic school that dealt in them, things to win loyalty, grow pride for each system. No mystes or masters ever seemed to realize how small-minded it all was.

He had to watch each nationality argue that their name for a demon was the true one that alone controlled it, – even though the demons obeyed just as readily in any language, not really needing ‘the true name’ of Aktiarh’s book, or any other, at all. Such anomalies abounded, were never faced up to or answered.

And then there was the worship, always the worship, – a thing which really annoyed him. Hamar sang other words to their praise psalms, did countering chants under his breath to confound any powers being called down into the room. He always managed to not be of the schools even after months of being in them.

– The way that royalty conducts itself.

And so, only the liking for doing the others over, remained. And got bigger.

Physically he grew paler and denser, his eyes becoming piercing as he began to take on the look of The Man.

At seventeen, alone on his bed, Hamar concentrated to figure out what that ultimately would make him look like. “If I’m to become like the Master, what’s that going to be in the end?” Seeing that extreme powers would be involved in transforming him, he was beginning to feel real dread about the morphing.

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