Chapter 1: Manical Genisity

Author Note 3: Better not expect every chapter to be this long.

I'm a normal, 15-year-old.

A while ago, I was also a normal 15-year-old. Nice parents, nice upbringing, little reclusive on the socialist side but I made my way around.

A while ago, I got expelled.

I attacked the man who made my life a living hell for a year. Did I mention he made my life a living hell for an entire year?

Well, it doesn't matter now.

He passed out before the raging sea that was my anger calmed its ongoing torrents.

How did I win? Had I been training in martial arts for years? Found a magic wand? Well, no would be a fitting answer.

I had won with cowardice and a slight advantage. I only needed one snappy look at his laughing face to smash a brass knuckle into his face. The impact hurt my knuckles yet the adrenaline of the moment washed over the pain. I swiftly pulled the silver knife from my back pocket and moved it from left to right. The awkward tug as it traveled in that one simple motion was unnoticed as my brass knuckle met his face in a touching reunion for the around 13th time.

My brass knuckle, now washed red was all I could see before I felt my arms being pulled back by two blue-clothed men. The surroundings finally lost their hazy mirage and I could see every twitching muscle in the crowd of wary students.

He had passed out long before I had clocked in.

I didn't even have a plan. Just pure anger and momentum guiding me. I made sure to knock his tooth out first. He had a silly golden tooth. I could see it. It was all I could see in fact from my position on the floor and his by the wall as he laughed and mocked me alongside his gang. This occurred merely a few days ago.

And now his golden tooth was all I could see within the bloody mess on the floor.

Funnily enough, we were by a wall.

All I could remember was the greasy texture and the pulling sensation as I lifted him by the hair and clocked him with another brass knuckle impact.

So where am I now?

In some cell? Already on the Electric Chair? Back for Round two?

I'm by the side of a road. The cars ignore the blatantly obvious criminal in front of them as the drivers keep their sunken eyes loosely locked on the traffic colours. I sat on the bench without emotion. Any Emotion now would be pointless.

If I hadn't ran after a pesky sucker punch maybe I wouldn't be sitting here as sullenly.

I did think of a new life. Making a fancy resume, and getting some formal attire.

Stealing on top of assault doesn't sound terrible?

But now I'm stuck.

I can't go anywhere wearing this attire.

I looked down at my orange tracksuit and the numerous numbers that I had never cared to remember.

Yeah. I can't go anywhere wearing this attire.

I heard the faint sound of sirens around the block, no flashing lights yet.

Well.

It was quite the irony that the sun's luminous rays now seemed so limpid and shrewd. Perhaps an evening rain would fit the situation better?

The almighty sun tediously burned my back, its gaze leaving a faint sensation even after I moved to the other side of the bench.

I could only sit with my fingers crossed. The sirens had gotten less faint and more direct. Glimpses of blue and red could be seen from around the corner. The glaring sun made many passersby turn their heads yet it was odd that they didn't look at the man by the bench in a prisoner outfit instead.

One particular man even stood in front of me, to catch a solid glance at this potential police chase. His tiptoeing shadow danced on the sunshone floor as he squinted his eyes.

I want to live differently.

An odd thing to come from a person who shipwrecked his own life yet every human should probably be unable to contain this peeking thought.

As I said, I am-, was a normal person.

Apart from the bullying, I was a normal person.

An only child, with loving parents.

Till HighSchool, I remained within a small friend group, A small friend group that dispersed upon my unplanned situation yet I couldn't blame them.

It was raining. And there were clouds. And with the clouds came shadows.

I can't remember more than a vague impression.

I sat on the bench looking at the distant clouds. The incoming rain. The world in front of me.

A Boy around half my size came forward. Offering a napkin for my dried tears. I looked away in shame. The sogged part of my collared shirt was still revealed.

"A-are you okay?"

I don't know why. But I was angry. Not at him, but at my surroundings. And it just so happened that he was surrounded that day.

"What does it look like?"

"Uhm-."

"Okay?Great?Joyous?"

"Is someth-"

"Fuck off."

"Are you s-sure?"

"Just... go."

And another wave of shame washed down my system merely a slow minute after.

Why had I pushed away my only source of light? My only friend? I had so many chances. So many failures. And I think that is why.

I wanted and still want to live differently.

Live differently...

It was then I noticed.

A shaking lorry skidding down the road.

Quite fast, definitely over a speed limit or two.

It was then I saw a blank face washed with red.

Drunk.

And then I saw a wheelchair ahead of me. Slowly wheeling down the road. Right in time for a straight collision.

I stood there.

My eyes looked ahead mundanely.

Everything in life needs a push. Even to work up I enjoyed slowly lifting a finger before another. Fingers formed hands and hands connected wrists. And then this strenuous cycle continued before my legs found themselves on a hard wooden floor.

I stood there.

An act of god, a force of the unknown. I am unbeknownst of what.

All I know is that I was suddenly charging down the road. My form was awful and my hands moved out of sync. I already felt a stitch emerging right away.

I had a chance.

A chance to stop.

On the 3rd or so step, the unknown momentum died down.

I could keep going, or stand there.

I lived differently.

I wanted to call out but all that I could produce was a painful gasp as my burning throat started pulsing immensely. Too much force had clearly been used.

But that didn't matter. I didn't care.

How could I say that I wanted to live differently?

And do the exact same thing that I've done since the age of 2?

I won't pull myself back anymore.

That's what I thought to myself.

I didn't want to see wheelchair remains covered in mush in a flashy finish.

I wanted to live differently.

Live differently.

I attempted to pull the wheelchair back from a safe distance but felt my hands swipe air.

I gritted my teeth.

Live differently.

I dashed forward, muscles in my legs strained hard, and pushed the wheelchair as hard as I could.

Like moving a braked bike it was tough and I felt the uncomfortable feeling of rubber creating friction against concrete.

I pushed. Keep pushing. And pushed. My elbows creaked and ached yet I pushed. I pushed until I felt the wheelchair rise over the platform and reach the other side.

I looked down not in contentment or relaxation but in tiredness. I was panting heavily and grasping my ribs.

The Boy inside the chair was fine.

We were out of the firing zone.

I had lived differently.

I took a closer look at the boy,

Long hair covered his face. A smile was plastered onto his face.

He was happy.

Too happy.

I was still bending. My hands were on my knees. I looked to the left.

An impending fist from below hit me back. I felt my feet tip over the pavement curb.

I stumbled, but managed to not fall over.

The aches and pants still filled my body.

I looked right.

All I could see were 2 white crosses and a mechanical outline.

Was this the light you see at the end of your life?

Isn't it arriving a bit fast?

I couldn't even move due to my position.

My slightly hunched posture formed a sorry sight for watchers.

I could only see the wheelchair boy's eyes as I felt the sound of metal scraping the flow grow louder, so loud that I could not even describe it for my ears had already gone past their limit.

He smiled.

Revealing a golden tooth.

The truck soon crashed forward.

A bloody red soon covered its front and many pink structures began sliding down its cold metal edges.

The fierce wind from the truck lifted the wheelchair boy's hair, revealing a psychotic face smiling madly. His golden tooth was unpleasantly being fiddled by his crazy tongue. His golden tooth rocked forwards and backwards as he looked at the organs on the ground in delight.

Damnit.

I saw the gold.

I saw the smile.

So this was revenge huh?

I never saw what happened after in the corner of my eye, a red outline appeared.

All I felt was my body being swiftly thrown into water.

Deep, dark lukewarm water.

And I stayed there.

Waiting.

Waiting for someone to pull me out.

Anyone to pull me out.

Anyone.

 

The Setting Sun luminated the wild grassland with a golden hue, the empty grass strands waved calmly as the Northern winds pushed onwards. One could see all around them in this flat expanse. The unending grass was visible until the eye reached its limit in every direction. It had the smell of nature and a strong odor of smoke. This strong odor of smoke gave it the name, The Smog Fields.

Within the rare parts of this field stood a man. Old and wrinkled, he looked down in suspicion and squinted eyes. His ears twitched at the tormenting silence as the sound of wind brushing grass was all that he had for company in these lonely lands.

His beard was black, and on his head was a tightly-done bun. He had a sharp nose and remnants of a defined face. His eyes were golden, rose gold. His body was tall and strong despite its unavoidable aging and he wore respectable robes engraved with yellow scriptures. His attire bore the colors of purely black and the staff in his right hand was crafted from twisted wood. A red glow hid behind its strengthened veil.

And within the rare parts of these fields sat a boy. The Boy possessed crimson eyes and matching vermillion crimson hair. His face was unblemished and smooth. His body was tiny, yet the man bore suspicion still.

The Boy looked at the man in silence.

A silence intruded by the sound of electric buzzing.

It was now the boy himself who noticed several strands of red lightning bouncing around his body. The Boy swiftly tried to pat them out, annoyed as they danced away the boy grew impatient.

Grasping and swiping for the minuscule strands the boy dived into them. Ecstatic, the boy smiled in victory before clutching his eye as his face writhed in pain.

The electric strands, currently crackling and shrinking soon fit into his eyes. The Boy looked at the old man, receiving subtle eye contact as he rubbed his eyes with teary eyes.

"You aren't a normal child."

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When I woke up, I felt a huge pain in my head, as if my head was splitting or rather spreading apart. My surroundings were light, balmy, and grassy. That was all I could picture as I grasped my head in pain.

After a few seconds, the blur in my eyes somewhat dulled and I could picture the faint outline of a man.

A man and a staff.

He gazed at me suspiciously with his eagle-like eyes.

I couldn't help but notice that he was quite the wizard with his attire. Quite the dark wizard, now that I thought about it. Were black robes and a dangerous red emerging from his staff, not a bad omen?

(Scary.)

He stood far above me and looked at me in suspicion and although I do not think it was for me, a striking gaze of abhorrence at something around me.

I was still hazy from what seemed like a deep sleep. It was at that point I tracked the points of my pain. Several dancing strands of red were moving around me.

They were not fast but rather adaptable as they were always just out of my light swipes.

I slowly began using my body more, swiping further and trying to catch the annoying structure off guard yet my reward was nowhere to be seen.

Aggravated at the little creature-like strands I dived.

I gleed as the lightning stopped moving and rather began heading towards me.

Pain.

Burning, seething and acidic pain entered my eyes.

I rubbed my eyes to numb the pain before looking at the unexpected visitor.

"You aren't a normal child."

The Man walked away with silent steps.

I was curious yet still rational. Stranger danger?

But before I could even think about my next steps, a mysterious force lifted me from the legs up and began slowly dragging me through the air as I dangled by a leg.

What was going on?

I shut my eyes and looked inside my mind.

Slowly and painfully, chunks and slivers of forgotten and distant memories came to me in fast flashes.

This must be the dream, the dream that happens after death.

My exact thoughts were as such.

1 Month later...

It was no dream.

At Least a dream couldn't make this pain real.

I seem to have been reincarnated. I know this due to my 5 senses working just as well along with the fact that I have kept my rationale. I couldn't tell at least a few weeks ago but the common language here is English. Oddly convenient, I must say.

It would seem, however, that I have a special constitution. Whenever I keep my eyes closed, red strands build up. This build-up continues on and on before it reaches the limit and seething pain breaches my eyes. I open in pants yet the worst is soon to come.

My eyes bulge red as red lightning crackles out of each eye.

The odd man who seemed to be my guardian only got even more frustrated and stoik when my common outbreaks began. The most he offered was an orange-bamboo stick that I was told to chew.

About the Common Language, I have been hiding my expertise.

If this man hates me for getting injured, what would he do if he finds out I was a supernatural freak?

I shivered when I imagined his reaction to such a situation.

I often saw his thumb twitching on the knife at the table.

And I think I am now more than certain.

This is reincarnation.

Past Memories: Yes

New World: Yes

New Body: Yes

Speaking of my New body.

I ought to be around half a year to a year old. My hair is somewhat grown so I can't be a newborn and my guardian isn't exactly a father figure.

This World also seems to be quite underdeveloped.

My guardian often brings out an odd lamp with a low-intensity light emitter inside. It hardly works and is quite amusing yet it seems to be a common thing here. There is also no electricity, hardware, or even light bulbs.

My guardian, coming back to him, is arguably in his late 40s.

He had no greys in his hair however wrinkled lines have begun solidifying as I look closer at his face.

Not for too long of course, in fear we may meet eyes.

I don't even know the time period now that I think about it. Maybe this is just a barren place as well. With low development. But I wouldn't think a world with magic would be a low-development world?

I most definitely don't dislike this reincarnation twist, however, living with a man who often gives concerning death-stares on the daily does not reassure me of my survival in the long term.

2 Years passed.

I have now gained the ability to walk.

I can now slowly reveal my language skills.

I can even now reveal my understanding of things slowly and carefully.

My relationship with my guardian has loosely improved. He will often ask me to move to another room or to do a task but I am content as it would seem we are not related by even the slightest.

And the truth is, I don't want to wake up in a field again.

Recently, the room with the biggest door has been looking pretty tempting.

I can often see numerous books inside. Books of possibly forbidden knowledge?

Temptation washed over me like a wave.

I waited for the Guardian to do his common routine of leaving the wooden cottage that was our house before I began my quest.

Creak.

I heard the door begin to shut.

I ran with tensions high.

"Boy."

I stopped.

I turned back slowly, red creeping up on me like an incredibly fast infection.

"Remember to charge the rune."

I nodded slowly as I looked down at the floor in silence.

Slam.

I rushed to the door.

My hand couldn't reach the knob, prepared for this I brought a stall hid behind a nearby table, and jumped.

Good.

Feeling the smooth texture of the circular knob I twisted as my arms began to ache.

The Door opened.

I snatched the first book on the first shelf on the first level.

I flipped the page looking for any sign of magical activity.

You are reading story System? I only have Forbidden Magic and Broken Racial Abilities… at novel35.com

My curiosity led me by the nose.

I swiftly ducked under a desk as I saw my guardian through the window.

He passed calmly.

Sighing in relief I went to the chapter log.

Where, Where, Where-.

Nice.

I smiled in satisfaction.

There it is.

Fireball-23.

I flipped the pages before I reached the sacred 23.

Scrolling down I looked for any words that stood out and found a phrase.

"Unheaving fire, become a blazing sphere and impair my enemies."

I grinned widely as I held out my hand in anticipation.

I can feel it.

I can feel something com-

Pain.

Too much pain.

Hot, Seething, and cackling pain filled my eyes. Large lightning strands danced uncontrollably and angrily within the small study. My hands grasped my eye in desperation yet only received harsh burns. I shook and twitched on the floor as red filled my vision.

A door swung open and my vision blacked. I saw glimpses of my guardian through the constantly shifting red mirage.

"You are incapable of learning magic, Child."

The man's face darkened.

"Normal magic, that is."

The last sensation I felt was crackling lightning coursing through my veins, a sharp pain still slowly stung in my head and my eyes met with two golden eyes in the darkly lit room that seemed to be the study.

I guess I got caught.

My head had already begun thinking up plans and excuses when a cold voice sent shivers down my spine.

"Do you want to be a magician?"

I was on the verge of nodding my head before another slither of words found its way into the back of my head.

"Or a genius."

I remained confused about this addition to his question.

His Golden eyes didn't waver as their view stayed fixed on a person. Me.

I thought steadily. Was it a test? A trick? A laughable joke? No, he didn't seem like the jokester type. I replied hesitantly.

"G-genius."

"What."

"I want to be a genius."

My voice throttled forward with resolve and power.

A cold, lengthy silence broke down as the morning sun crawled through the windows. Lightening his sharp features and outlining his wrinkles.

It was then that I noticed a difference. I had grown. But overnight? Had the mysterious lightning changed me? I looked down at my feet and then at my arms. They had certainly lengthened. It was only when I saw my reflection with a silverware spoon that I sullenly took two steps back. A look of shock and uncertainty plastered on my face.

"How was your sleep, Genius."

In the reflection was a boy at around 4 years old. Older than I should be as of now. My hair had grown to a crimson red that curled backwards. My vermillion eyes matched my hair and my skin had paled.

The man cared not for my brief lapse as he continued to speak.

"You are no ordinary child, capable of speaking at what should be around 2 despite a 2-year coma and my limited teachings."

"Your body now is weak. I do not teach the weak. I teach the strong, smart, and genius."

"So tell me. What are you?"

His cold voice surged with power. A cold breeze blew my hair back, my vermillion eyes flashed with gold.

"I am- a genius."

The man chuckled lightly. His breath was visible as it flew away in the winter air.

"Then show me."

I opened my mouth to ask how but found it shut by a mysterious force. As if a vacuum seal had been placed I could only furrow my eyebrows as I met eyes with the perpetrator.

"Watch, Child."

My mind grew unsteady and concerned as the air around me moved. Like a vortex or an imaginary pull, a force pushed the air and I could feel something else towards the man's feet. The man then placed a hand on my shoulder.

Fast.

"This is called the lotus step. So tell me, are you a genius?"

I nodded slowly. Everyone wants to be a genius.

"Then show me."

I scratched my head awkwardly before the mysterious force returned, my leg hooked in the air as my arms flailed around.

"Wha?"

The fields lay silent. They had gone from a pleasant green to an unpleasant grey. The sky too had formed a mundane sticky white. There was no wind, only a chilling cold. In the sky, satanic birds flew yet these birds slowly dropped. Never rising again.

We traveled across fields for hours before the guardian stopped, checking his staff for some sort of information. I sighed. I had been tired yet unable to sleep due to my predicament and had long grown bored of the repetitive landscape.

"We're here."

His deep, cold, and uninviting voice broke the hours of silence that had built up to form a heavy tension. His voice merely pressed down on this tension unfortunately as I still felt extremely anxious, sluggish, and nervous.

He paved through around 100 meters of high grass before we found a rock construct. He entered through the back. Was that there before? I hid my thoughts away as another thought came to my mind.

Is that what I-?

A wolf. A wolf stood there, growling and husky.

"Was he invited?" I question timidly.

"Does it matter?"

I look at my guardian questionably.

"You are a genius, are you not?"

I now actually become confused.

"Take him out."

"Wha-. How?"

"I have done the teaching, now you must do the learning."

I started within the deep abyss, the palpitating blackness that resided in his golden eyes. I felt his cold hand, wrinkled and gaunt with unblemished white grab me by the collar before throwing me to the floor.

Cold.Hard.I felt my back sting, something was cut.

I then met two white eyes.

"Growl."

My hands twitched.

What was I meant to do now?

I had no clue how to even begin the strange technique he used.

The Wolf, however, seemed to have a technique in mind.

It pounced swiftly, becoming a blur in my eyes.

I felt something warm and grizzly in my hands whilst a pulling sensation gripped my shoulder. My hands soon bore red as claws dug and dove.

I looked at my last hope.

His back was already against my seething gaze, and the cave door shut to a small slide. Just so light could reach the smallest crevices of the cavern.

I slammed my small hand onto the wolf's back yet received no result. In a state of numbness, I sprinted left, against the pulling of my shirt, and turned to look at the wolf.

Time, I need time.

"Garh."

A groan was let out from my tightly clenched teeth as the wolf took another bite for itself.

Blood spilt on the ground.

I thought of the sensation from when my Guardian used the technique.

The air around me moved in a curve. It was controlled yet basic somehow.

Wait, no. I had to think deeper. Something else was moving. I felt it like a disappearing itch.

I watched as the wolf's head dove in and out tearing raw flesh off left and right.

I stared into the palpitating darkness and looked for something.Anything.Everything.

"Come..."

My head screamed for me to stop.

"Over.."

My system warned me, my body began rejecting itself as I felt muscles tear and a huge stitch rise.

"HERE."

Like a fourth wall had been broken, air came crashing in an uncontrollable barely definable mess. Air and something else. I used my broken body and partially splintered mind to push this undefinable mess behind me.

The wolf still attached to me did not mind.

I clenched the wolf tightly in my arms. Swearing to not let go. Screaming from my body and mind tried to stop me but I assured myself from another mind.

Making sure every last part of this energy was behind me. I readied my mind and body. I looked at the wolf one last time before I uttered any words I could think of.

"For-ward. Fast. Now."

Boom.

A large blast of air propelled me forwards with extreme force, doing almost as much damage to me as it did to the wolf. Rubble fell and a light smoke rose as I felt the wolf's body hit the wall. The undefinable energy slowly disappeared from my feet.

"G-grow-l."

I shivered as my broken body uncontrollably trembled.

I could see the downed wolf begin to regain its temperament.

Before it could even wag an ear my fists had already begun raining.

The wolf scratched, kicked, and even tried to bite but I kept going.

Effort does not always correlate to results.

My fists carried no power and therefore no threat to the wolf.

"Do something.Anything.ANYTHING."

I pleaded. I screamed. I shouted.

But received no answer like before.

So I stared into the palpitating darkness. I grasped its location. I stared at it hard. I pulled out closer to me. I tried to position it right behind my hand. The wolf jolted suddenly to my surprise and rose like a killer whale going for the kill.

Not today.

"Now."

The hard sense of bone meeting bone met and the awkward sound of cracking resonated in my ears. Yet the mysterious energy did not stop, propelling my bloodied, broken, and pale fist further into the wolf's swollen jaw. The wolf attempted to bite yet its teeth were already hanging by threads. The gruesome site put a sticky lump in my throat yet I continued my assault. It was only when I noticed that blood had leaked from the wolf's mouth that I stopped.

Just like before.

My emotions had led the way. I could only see a lousy result now.

My panting finally reached my ears. Along with a world of pain.

It would seem that the wolf had suffocated, drowned whatever the associated words were in this situation. Its eyes had rolled over white and a small part of its skin had been torn so that it hung by a small parchment.

I tore off the small part and reached the entrance of the cave.

Luckily, my mind was still hazy and in the moment or I don't know if I would have resisted fainting right then and there.

I took a step outside the cave and met his golden eyes.

In triumph, I lifted the parchment of wolf skin I had torn off as I raised it in a clenched fist. My bloodied face and long red hair stood solemn in the wind.

Somewhat angrily I managed to make a croaky and hoarse shout. The high-pitched childness was still present, unfortunately, somewhat dimming my glorious moment.

"Genius enough for you?"

And as I stood there looking in frustration and as a broken mess, he chuckled not lightly but almost forced by himself.

"It can be considered a pass."

And as I turned my back on our return trip, I felt an insatiable feeling of rage mixed with unforgotten colds caressing my back in forceful impacts.

I stared back to find my guardian merely looking at me in annoying sweat. What am I doing now? Should've been his line of thought.

I continued talking to myself to cleanse my boredom.

Meanwhile, the guardian's hands were still sweaty and cold. His eyes kept their reminiscent gold and his hair shook slightly in the wind.

He seemed to be at a constant war deep within himself. One second away from doing something he would love and regret. Be freed yet at a cost. A cost that only part of him had the sanity to drag the rest of him back to not have to pay it.

No matter the cost.

 

A month has passed since the events of the wolf.

I have been taught minimally just like the past 4 years yet I feel as though I have learnt more than in my combined 20 years.

The strange energy that I grasped has no name according to my Guardian. Therefore I can name it what I want.

I named it World Energy. I decided on this due to the fact that it is everywhere and indecisive. From what I can tell, this strange energy is somewhat of a hidden power in the mage world. My teacher claims that I can be counted as a genius. Does that mean normal people cannot grasp this energy?

For the past month, I have been mastering and refining my control of World energy. I've learnt to put it on my feet and let it linger. This allowed me to implode it at a moment's notice. I've also been attempting to master the startup time. I can try to signal it with my mind however it only budges slightly. This is quite irritating in fact and my Guardian has been all but helpful.

I haven't even learnt real magic, unfortunately. I have, however, been granted limited access to the study. There I learned of the Recognized Stages of achievement.

Beginner

Intermediate

Advanced

Lord

High-Lord

King

Emperor

God

I can be classified as off the list. Or in other words, below the lowest rank in the lowest rank. Each rank also has a half-step rank.

I twirled a small ring around my finger, it was truly a boresome day. I also completely missed out on food. Training was pretty hateful since it was just self-harm, physical activities, and repetition.

And due to the concerning self-harm from using the world energy, my physical activities became all the more painful...

Upon learning that I had made small progress in my one month of peace, my guardian asked me bluntly and firmly.

"Would you like to learn magic."

I nodded slowly unsure if this was a trick question or not.

"As a genius."

I began to nod slowly when a chilling cold sent a rush of ice down my veins.

"Or a magician."

I could almost taste the poison at the tip of his tongue when he ushered the word.

"A genius."

I met his golden-red eyes. A small hole of black in the middle.

He nodded with shut eyes.

The cold winter wind, brushed past our pale cheeks as the pale grass stood still. The permafrost on the ground remained wintery as our leather boots besmirched its surface.

We suddenly came to a stop in the silver-grass field by a broken tree. Its branches had fallen and its trunk had been scarred.

I wondered if we were going to wait in this unending silence forever before he began speaking.

"The genius are chosen by god and the magicians make choices against god."

I was left confused so I waited for his next statement.

"When a magician enacts a spell, he must complete it step by step, building the foundation before it is firm and safe to fire."

He slowly builds up a fireball in front of me, I see multiple elements mixing before a blazing ball of blinding flames lightens our surroundings. It roars quietly.

"When a genius enacts a spell, God builds it for him and he shoots off the shoulders of giants."

Almost instantly, as if the previous process was speeded up a hundredfold a blazing bomb of apocalypse is in front of me. It roars so loud that the trees shake and the silver sky is almost intimidated by this force of nature.

Pop.

The firing behemoth before me disappears, a falling parade of embers lands and encases us.

"So what should I do?" I mutter.

He hears my voice through the now distant crackling and looks at me coldly.

"The only thing you can do."

He points at my fingertips.

I can now see a small dancing thread of red lightning. Prancing about.

I rub my finger across my palm as the small strand dissipates.

I see. He wants me to do something with this special constitution of mine.

I hold my hand out.

An empty silence ensues.

I close my eyes in deep thought, in an attempt to build something with this constitution of mine but his stark voice stops me.

"Stop."

"Geniuses only need to witness their power, the magician builds it."

I keep my hand held out, so I have to wait for a miracle now.

I spot a small strand of red emerging from my right hand. And then my left. Knowing they will disappear in a few seconds I sigh in disappointment.

Zz.

A small cracking sound emerges from the corner of my ears.

I looked down, as if an act of God, the two little strands had joined, becoming a rope that swung wildly. Soon two more small strands joined. Two soon became four then 8 and then after what seemed to be extremely long minutes.

A maddened ball that held a limpid white surrounded by insane red strands dancing wildly was in between my hands.

I didn't know what to do.

But it didn't matter.

I was a genius.

Before I knew it, world energy had appeared behind my apparatus. I now only had one task to do.

Witness the power of my genius.

"Witness the power of your genius!" He shouted riddled with insanity. His head leaned over his old staff as his eyes gleamed with power.

Boom.

My ball of crazed madness crashed into a tree. Leaving behind a nasty mark and a scar that would stay.

A visible trail of air remained slowly wavering into nothingness.

I was left panting, looking at my hands that were burning and stinging slightly.

Had I done that?

My teacher had gone back to his wise and ignoring-me state.

We stood in the snow.

In silence and seething victory.

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