Two young men lie relaxing atop a hill of flowers. Or rather, one does, and the other imagines ways to set it on fire. Today, however, he restricts himself to simply picking petals off the flowers. All of them. Off every flower. At the same time.
(Though later, when they leave, those flowers will all have petals again, and look brighter and more colourful than ever.)
He gets bored in less than a minute.
"So why did you insist on us coming out here, again, when I could be delving deep into the mysteries of the universe, or, even better, blowing up someone I don't like?"
"Because I wanted to relax, and the view here is nice." He scowls, unimpressed with his companion's response.
"We could have gone to Didona. That has a nice view."
"You set that on fire."
"That's why it's a nice view." A small grin crosses his face, before the scowl returns. "Or Melangios. We could go there."
"You set that on fire too. Forever."
"Oh, so that's where it was! Thanks, Colm." Colm rolls onto the side facing him to give him a flat look.
"Just because you can use magic to do it doesn't mean you should, you know." He lets that comment linger, pretending to consider it.
"Nope. You're wrong." Colm sighs, and rolls onto his other side, facing away from him. There's silence for a few beats, before a thought occurs to him.
"What do you want to do then?" He tries to make it as casual as he can, disinterested, anything to disguise that disgusting vulnerability he feels when he asks the question. He knows he doesn't succeed. He doesn't expect the response, either.
"I want to start a school."
"What?" He scrambles for something to say, anything, because this is stupid and Colm's stupid and he needs to stop Colm from doing this stupid thing –
"Not now, you idiot. Later." And he's calm again. Calm and in control, as usual. (He deliberately doesn't think about what it means, that a few words from Colm can do that, and he's always been very good at self-deception.)
There's a long silence again.
"I think that's stupid." He declares. There's a certain smugness in Colm's voice when he replies.
"You won't when I'm actually running it."
---
It's many years later, after many petty disputes and that last bitter argument when he hears the rumour, and the second he does, he knows.
The Archmage of the Solemn Vale.
Furious, he loses control for the first time in years, and destroys an experiment that had been months in the making. Colm, an Archmage?! How dare he take that title for himself?!
A week later, when he finally calms down (only not really, because he's never been calm where Colm is concerned), he has a clever idea, and a cruel smile that many in Diadem will come to know stretches across his face.
You were right, Colm. A school is an excellent idea.
