"Cute isn't exactly the first word that comes to mind." Vangelos replied as he stepped into the hallway apprehensively. "....and I don't deserve to be called a wizard."<br/>Although he looked the part he had always been slow when it came to learning magic. Although Adriel was patient, Vangelos often criticized himself; he was constantly bungling even the simplest tricks. However, he remembered a lesson Adriel told him.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">'The belief in magic is only half the battle. To use magic, a wizard must feel its presence and act on that feeling. First one must feel the desire, then have the will to learn, and finally have the patience to aquire the knowledge itself. When the student finally reaches true understanding--as you must know--he has only one more hurdle to cross before he can be given his own staff. This hurdle, Vangelos, is the ability to draw magic and cast it by means of love or hate.'</span><br/><br/>"Even now I don't fully understand, master." Vangelos whispered to himself as he drew closer to the staff as quietly as he could, "How can love or hate conjure up magic?" When Vangelos arrived at the staff he looked around in the shadows for any sign of the creature. Beads of sweat had formed on his brow and his heart beat loudly in his chest.