text: A man wearing pink robes stood in front of a crowd of men and women, all wearing their own robes of different colors. They were wizards meeting once again in a very mysterious room, which despite being filled with a hazardous amount of candles, somehow still managed to look poorly lit. The wizards all looked very serious and contemplative, but in reality they were bored by the meeting and impatient to leave as soon as it was over. Their colorful attires made them look a bit like a box of tired crayons. The man in pink stared intently at his clipboard, before finally looking up. “Well, I think that settles it,” he said, monotone. “Instead of directly dealing with the evil tyrant ourselves, we’ll just tell a farmer that he’s the chosen one. I mean, if it isn’t broke, don’t fix it.” The other wizards muttered in agreement. Satisfied, the man in front nodded. “We’ll meet again next month. Remember, you’ll have to show up *during* the full moon, not after. This tower is only available then.” “Sorry, Brother Pink,” said Brother Brown sheepishly. “It’s alright, just make sure not to do it again. I think that’s everything. I’ll see you all-” A woman wearing blue robes raised her hand, killing the other wizards’ hopes of leaving early. “Yes, Sister Blue?” Sister Blue stepped up. “Hi, um, I had some concerns about our clothing.” “You don’t like the robes?” Brother Pink asked, surprised. “No, no, it’s not that,” Sister Blue quickly assured. “I have no problem with the robes themselves. It’s just the... color.” Brother Pink raised his eyebrow. “You don’t like the color?” “Well, think about it this way. I wear blue robes, right? Isn’t that a bit strange?” “Why would it be strange for you to wear blue robes? You’re a Blue Wizard.” “That’s the thing, I am a Blue Wizard. But I practice fire magic.” “So?” “So?” she repeated. “Why would someone practicing *fire* magic wear *blue* robes. In fact, why would I be called a Blue Wizard in the first place?” “Well, what else would you be called?” “I don’t know, the Red Wizard?” “Brother Red is already the Red Wizard,” he reasoned. “He has the robes and everything.” “Yes, but why in the world is he called the Red Wizard?” she said, sounding exasperated. “He uses nature magic!” “There’s red in nature,” said the Red Wizard defensively. “I know there’s red in nature, Brother Red,” replied Sister Blue, “but when someone thinks nature, they usually picture the color green. Speaking of, Sister Green.” “Yes?” the Green Wizard said. “What type of magic do you use?” “Ice.” “See!” she said, pointing in Sister Green’s direction. “That’s my point exactly! She’s the one who should be wearing blue. Blue is cold. But instead, they gave me the blue robes. I use fire magic, I’m literally the opposite of cold!” “Okay, I see your point,” Brother Pink admitted. “But we’ve all had these colors for so long, it’s not as if we can just make a switch. People would get confused.” “Get confused?” Sister Blue said, her face starting to look red (which was perhaps fitting for the conversation). “You don’t think people are already confused why a necromancer decided to wear pink?” “What's wrong with pink?” he said while looking down at his own robes. “Nothing! If you want to paint a little girl’s room! But it’s not a great color for someone with the ability to raise the dead! You should’ve been Brother Black, but the actual Brother Black is a healer for some reason!” The eyes of a dark skinned man wearing black robes widened when he heard Sister Blue. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. Sister Blue, realizing her error, looked awkwardly at Brother Black. “I mean... well, it doesn’t make sense for you to be... I mean, you’re a healer.” “So you’re saying a Black Wizard can’t be a healer?” Brother Black asked frankly. “No,” she said, panicked, “that’s not what I’m trying to say!” She felt the judgmental glares of the other wizards. “Look,” Sister Blue said frantically, “I’m not trying to be racist! I just mean, when people think black they usually associate it with darker magic!” The wizards groaned at her poor choice of words. “What are you groaning for? What do you all think black magic means?” Brother Pink sighed. “I think it’s time for you to leave, Sister Blue.” Sister Blue tried to search for support from someone, but everyone was doing their best to avoid her gaze. Looking defeated, she walked out of the room. A wizard wearing white robes shook his head in disgust. “The nerve of some people,” said Grand Wizard White.