"I'll find a way - you'll see!"
The echoes of those two final words reverberated in the still, silent atmosphere of the library and the outside hall.
The sage faced after the boy's retreating back, guessing from the feel of his aura that it was stiff with anger, resentment, and frustration.
"I seriously doubt that, child," he murmured softly, but there was no malice in his voice. With a smile half-sad, half-mocking, Rezo the Red Priest returned to his work.
Zelgadis stalked down the wooded track, inwardly fuming.
He just isn't looking for a way, that's all, he thought bitterly. Too consumed with his own search to think of anything else... He turned off the road suddenly onto a near-invisible trail, wending his way unerringly through the forest until he reached a shaded clearing beneath an earthen bank. Walking over to the stream that ran nearby, he unslung his sword belt from his shoulder and flopped down onto the mossy floor.
Leaning over to cup the clear water in his hands, Zelgadis caught his reflection on the rippling surface. I don't even look like anything special, he decided. Completely average, that's me. Then he looked over at the hilt of his sword protruding from its sheath.
Well, maybe not completely...
"Dammit, I don't want to be just another hired blade!" He railed. "I'm good, but fighting other people's wars and protecting other people's caravans is so - so - " He broke off, choking at the prospect of making a living with his blade. It was so BORING! His talent made fighting any but the best of swordsmen dull and monotonous. And to make matters worse, he didn't look like anyone to be feared...who would believe that this scrawny boy could defeat men with twice his age and experience? But...to be a common soldier, as prodigious as he was? Gah. He shuddered at the prospect. He wanted to do something different....He sighed as he ran over the prospects once again in his mind, always as before coming back to the same options.
Mercenary or mage, soldier or scholar... he thought disgustedly. There are PLENTY of those already!
But oh, to be both.... Now that was unique. There were plenty of interesting possibilities when talent with a blade and talent at spellcasting were combined...and it was so rare....
And what good would being invincible with a sword do him, if he could not defend against the simplest spell? The idea of depending completely on some magicked-up weapon or charm for protection galled him. The only thing a warrior could ever depend on in a fight was his own skill....
And, magically speaking, I have none!
Recognizing the mental ruts of well-worn grievances and rantings, Zelgadis got to his feet and retrieved his sword. He stood in the dappled light of the late afternoon sun and breathed deeply, relaxing as he cleared his mind. Shutting away all the anger and unhappiness, he gratefully lost himself in the mental and physical exercises he knew so well - and yet never well enough.