Archive of Our Own ^beta

Age 8

Jace is surrounded by people. Every single kid on the block is standing around him, pushing each other over to look at his display of Dancing Lights. The crowd around him was filled with equal parts admiration and envy as they all demanded to know how he was doing it, and he reveled in both.

If he wasn't busy showing off he might have answered that he didn't really know how exactly he was doing it, that the magic everyone was so impressed by was natural, even essential to him. He could feel it zipping and zapping beneath his skin, the excess energy draining into the simple spell.

Age 11

"This ought to be simple for a wizard of your age Jace" his tutor said exasperatedly. "I just don't understand why some spells you're willing to do and yet others you refuse completely, without any rhyme or reason."

Jace slumped in his chair, kicking his feet restlessly, "I don't know," Jace complained just as frustrated as his tutor and with far more reason. "It doesn't make sense to me" Jace rolled his pencil away from him to further illustrate his point.

Jace's tutor takes a deep breath. "Tell me which part doesn't make sense and I'll try and explain it again." They pull Jaces paper over to look at and Jace tunes them out.

Age 14

Leoandros Lowblaze was the most stuck up, pretentious, condescending man in the world. He was also unfortunately Jace's wizard teacher, which meant he had to try and listen to him at least a little. His parents were upset at his lack of work ethic and avoidance of studying at all costs. They had wanted to send him to Hudol but they didn't think he'd pass the entrance exam, which was rude, but also probably true.

They had even threatened to send him to Mumple if he didn't start taking his studies seriously so Jace has sworn to turn over a new leaf at Augefort.

He stared at the too small confusing symbols in his book. The absolute worst part of wizardry is that it's all bullshit. There's a ton of rules but none of them really matter, not in any way that can't be changed. His tutor tried to drill into him the importance of spell components and pronunciation and whatever.

But the thing is, it's not important at all. He knows he can twist the magic he feels twisting under his skin ready to be released and turn it into whatever he needs. Verbal components, distances, strength of the spell it's all able to be changed and he knows it no matter how many people try to insist the laws of the universe are hard and steadfast they aren't.

Age 15 Freshman Year

Jace sat staring at his half finished essay, wishing that it would just start writing itself. He remembered when he was a child and it was easy to impress everyone with a simple cantrip. Now he was flunking out of Wizard classes, and everyone there is a stupid dick about their dumb little spells.

Nobody understands magic in the same way he does and it's to the point that even his parents threats of Mumple might be preferable to attending another fucking wizard class, if not for his magic buzzing under his skin angry at not being allowed out. Maybe if he stared at these stupid words hard enough like everybody told him to, he could finally figure out what the disconnect was between his understanding of how his own damn magic works and their understanding of it.
His magic rippled under his skin even more restlessly and it was even harder to keep it tightly leashed. No other wizards had trouble keeping magic in, it was the making of it they all apparently struggled with.

He made it too easily, he couldn't stop making it if he really did go to Mumple and never cast another spell he could probably die from it.

Age 16 Sophomore Year

A Sorcerer.

His parents had made a mistake it seemed, in labeling him a wizard prodigy.

It made much more sense than being a wizard did if he was honest with himself. That he was an exception to the rules of magic that never had made any sense to him. Still it was infuriating to have people suddenly lower their expectations of him all of a sudden.

Not that he wasn't grateful to have people stop hounding about how this should really be easy for him, being such a prodigious wizard and from such a good family and why won't he just turn in his assignments. He's so good at the practical side he must know the theory. No, he was incredibly glad to be rid of all that.

But.

Well.

He's still good at magic of course. But now that fact is said in insult instead of wonder. Like because he didn't memorize some words about it he didn't earn it. As if it was his fault they fucked up and thought he was a wizard how was he supposed to know.

He has a new teacher now thank fucking gods, and she's fine. He feels ahead in sorcery classes instead of falling behind, having learned the little tricks to burn off magic and control his emotions on his own. He was good enough they didn't even hold him back, he's still a Sophomore. A cantrip absentmindedly comes to his fingers while he seethes about how dismissive people were about his natural talents.