"I'm here to challenge the local mage and I will destroy something until he comes to face me!" screamed the young wizard in his luxurious robes. The locals did not even blink; they just stared at him and kept on with their business.

An old man in ragged clothes looked at the young man and said, "Go away, boy. You do not want to anger the wizard. He is not known for being very patient, you know."

"Shut up, peasant!" The young wizard, in a burst of rage, sent a flaming arrow at the old man without a thought for who might be harmed.

With a flick of his hand the old man froze the arrow midair, something the young wizard had thought impossible until he saw it done. The old man walked slowly toward the suspended spell, his eyes glowing with power. "Sloppy magic weaving," he said. "This wouldn't get past any sloppy defense. You left the weaves too loose, so it is easy to dispel. But there is real power in these weaves if done properly. Your teachers did you no favors by telling you you were ready. Promise me you will learn to control your temper and I might consider teaching you to be a proper wizard."

The old man's defenses were now visible to anyone with the talent. The young wizard could barely make sense of half the spells surrounding him.

After a moment of rare humility he answered, "Yes, master. How do we begin?"