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A few minutes later, I stormed into the Mentor’s study. He was sitting at his desk, surrounded by a pile of old books, and was writing something with a long black pen. The room smelled of tobacco, wood and something burning. The Mentor slowly raised his head and looked at me expectantly.

“I need some practice,” I said.

“What exactly do you want?” He continued to write, occasionally glancing at one of the books.

For a few moments, I was shifting from one foot to another and finally decided,

“I want to go to town.”

He put down his pen and looked at me attentively.

“Promise me you’ll come back before dawn.”

“Well, of course, why?”

“Promise me you’ll come back before dawn,” he said again and held out his hand.

I walked over to him and uncertainly held my hand out to meet his. A sharp blade touched my palm and I flinched in pain. A few drops of blood fell on the table.

“Promise me you’ll come back before dawn,” he repeated.

“I promise I’ll be back before dawn,” I said, and shook his hand.

At the time I was surprised by his distrust, but now I understand it. He was letting this young and inexperienced magician out into the big wide world. A boy who was full of confidence in his strength and abilities, but had no idea what to do with his powers.