Off sitting to the side of the campfire you see Sean. Sitting there gazing to the stars with a bottle by his side. A empty bottle that used to hold some beverage of elven descent. As you get closer he looks up to you. A quick movement of his hand and a small ball appears. His eyes glazed over as the memories invade reality. "Magic always came to him easier. I remember when I was 15 running home to show my parents a little trick I learned. Such a simple trick. I was showing it to them in our main room when he showed up. My little brother. Only 11 years old and he was able to duplicate my trick like it was nothing. It took him a few minutes of me showing my parents. Then suddenly he was doing the same thing. Except he had better control. I remember how angry I was at him. It had taken me several weeks of study and memorization to learn that trick. Magic was like grabbing into a rushing river. Trying to grab as much water as you could. At least it was for me and those learning with me. To him though it was like holding a bucket during a fierce rainstorm.

"The next year when he was 12 he was sent to school with me. At first I did not mind. Heck it was nice to have something in common with my little brother. After a few months though I realized how much I hated it. It started when after a entrance exam to find out how far he was with mastering simple spells did they place him in my class. Then after a few more months he was passed to the class above me. So each day he would go home and show mom and dad what new spell or skill he had learned. No longer was I the pride of our family. I was not the joy of my mother and father. After studying the magical arts for several years my little brother passed me up in a few months. I though for what I lacked in the talent I could make up for it with hard work. I never could achieve his ability. Then one day after he graduated and was getting started for his apprenticeship we got into a argument. It was over something simple. Heck I do not even remember what it was about. Probably something like Transmutation vs. conjuration. I always liked transmutation something and changing its core. He preferred creating something out of nothing. One day though when I was 18 and he had just turned 14 he came up to me and the argument started. Finally I told him to prove his point with magic and not these useless words. So he tried casting a spell. I knew my case was lost. His mastery of the power was much higher than mine. Plus he had started his apprenticeship so definitely knew more spells than I did. I prepared for whatever horrors he could conjure up and waited. I saw the spell go off. I knew he was doing the a sleep spell from watching my masters cast it before. After the spell finished though I was still awake and had this weird feeling in me. Then he tried casting a spell called Acid splash. My brother was trying to hurt me. So I responded by releasing a force inside of me. Somehow a magical fire jumped from my fingertips and burned him badly. As he lay there unconscious I ran over to him. Sad that my point would not be proven. Sad that it had to come to this. I put his things inside my bag and I carried him home to my parents. When they found out what I had done they told me to leave and never to return. So I left the house. The next day in my bag I found his things. Since my parents told me to never return I did not return them. So for the longest time I kept his bad with me. Hopefully to remind me that pride can hurt those who you love. Out of pride and jealously I have lost the only family I ever had."

"Hence the reason why I do not like sorcerers. So far the only ones I have met have been arrogant fools. Each time I look into the mirror I realize that I am the same as them. My pride and arrogance has almost killed several people. It has killed a few others. This burden I carry and I remember each time I cast even the simplest of spells."

The bottle is empty. The story is over. Sean stares off at the stars some more. You realize that the only family and friends he has anymore is his magic.

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