"Talent hits a target no one else can hit. Genius hits a target no one else can see."
— Arthur Schopenhauer
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"Fire, water, air, earth, long ago…"
Zeke sat cross-legged in the air, his free flier trait keeping him aloft. Miniature elements danced between his fingers—a tongue of fire spiraled around a shimmering orb of water, while a breath of wind tousled a tiny sculpted mound of earth.
He was practicing magic.
He had copied the basic principles from the demon a year ago and had been studying in fits and starts ever since. Conjuring and shaping the basic elements was manageable now, but going further would require more exposure—complex magical theory, or time spent around powerful practitioners.
