Vocation

"There are many classifications and categories of magic," Alturion said to the class. "There are also specialties and gifts. The goal of this class is not to find your limitations, but set your strengths in stone, and then to curb all whining that ensues." He paused to look them each in the eye, one by one (the Pay Attention spell could only be cast in this way). "When it is discovered that you are a magical being, there is a honeymoon period of feeling singular and special. As you progress in your studies, there is a new feeling of being an imposter and a perfect idiot. Here, in the Vocational Attribution class for seniors/adepts, we rid you of the final misery: facing the fact that you may not have been blessed with the kind of magic you'd like to do. It is impossible to be a legendary necromancer when your magics lie in the field of speaking to plants; it is my job to help you see that, with this extraordinary gift, you will never hunger, thirst, or be without shelter." So many looked relieved at this point ... hopeful, even. Alturion felt empathy for them (so eager and discombobulated). "For example," he continued (looking over at Maed Elpen), "what we call 'Type A' is a kind of magic. While it cannot ease or lessen or break chains and restore freedom, Type A Magickals are the bringers of order, champions of the worthwhile effort, and the benevolent guardians of noble destiny." Maed began to smile and Alturion gave her a half-smirk; he could smell the heartbreak on her and hear an echo of the other's cruel remarks in the air. Once comfortable in her power, she would roll past them one day without a word or a glance. They would pay for getting it wrong; they always did.