Magic, in a nutshell, was complicated.

It required intense concentration, force of will, and the ability to be equally comfortable out in the field or cloistered away in a library. So few people tried to become magicians simply because the process to learn even a basic spell was both tedious and fraught with danger.

If one was smart, though, one would realize the best way to learn magic was through a mentor. Someone who could guide an aspiring mage into becoming a force of nature. Someone who knew many of the intricacies of magic, and was willing to take on an apprentice to teach them such minutiae.

Malan was one such mage. He had learned from his own mentor, two hundred and seventy three years ago, and he had retained and grown his vast repertoire of knowledge. Spells? He knew hundreds of them, plus their variations. Enchantment? He could weave magic like no one's business. Alchemy? He could bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death.

The one thing he couldn't do, however, was pass on his knowledge. All of his apprentices had left him, either losing patience with his craft, driven away by his personality, or abusing his knowledge for their own gain at the risk of everyone else.

The latter group saddened him the most.

So here he was, magically de-aged to the ripe year of 65, and over three hundred years old. So what did he do in his magically expanded shack in the outskirts of the city of Durian? He read, and read, and read. Occasionally he crafted a new, experimental spell, but mostly he read, keeping up with the times, and keeping abreast of new breakthroughs in magic - or at least, the few breakthroughs that were deemed too important or too mundane to keep cloistered away in some other mage's personal library.

Fortunately, Malan was about to be broken out of his funk, and fairly soon at that.

Freya sighed as she travelled down the streets of Durian idly. She had left her homeland with such promise and whimsical ideas and yet here she was in a city looking for something to steal. She had run out of money. Well perhaps that was an inaccurate statement. She was robbed and while she managed to maintain her family heirloom, the one handed mace situated at her hip, she had lost nearly all of her valuables including her compass. She had absolutely no way of getting home. After her ordeal, she stopped trusting people. She didn't bother asking for directions in fear of being led astray. Sighing, she tugged at the top of her cloak.

The woman had heard rumours of an old wizard living in the outskirts of Durian and her face had lit up in hopeful anticipation. The mace on her hip let no other person touch it but her and all the combat skills she had learned, the blonde still had no way of using the weapon. It was why she couldn't at least take on mercenary work. The guilds laughed at her ineptness. What was the purpose of a weapon she couldn't use? Perhaps this mage could show her the ropes and with any luck learn a bit of magic as well. The problem was she hadn't the faintest idea how to do magic. Would he even consider someone who was ignorant to everything? Her hope began to dim as she realized how meager her skills were.

What exactly was she good at? She could cook, scavenge for food, held extensive herbal knowledge. Maybe he could teach her healing magic? But she enjoyed a good battle? Maybe she could learn battle magic? Wait was that even a thing? She shook her head at her ridiculous thoughts and as her stomach growled she blamed them on her lack of nutrition. If nothing else the girl was resourceful and she did manage to capture some fish this morning but all this walking made all her efforts go to waste. Sighing loudly, she peered around the city. It seemed like any other city but somehow an odd feeling washed over her. She shook her head and decided she was growing delirious from food deprivation.

Continuing quickly through the city and reached for outskirts and was headed into the forest again. Where was this magical person? He lived near the edge of the city right? She felt as though she had been walking for ages and still saw nothing. She kept walking when she happened upon a shack. A large...shack...err house. House shack? Just what was she looking at? Freya stood there staring blankly at the construction pondering it. She bit her lip nervously, should she knock? She stood idly outside wondering what to do.