Despite how things began, Max was a surprisingly caring teacher. She did everything she could to make sure that Kel grasped the concepts she was teaching. The work was indeed dangerous: he burned himself several times and trying to harness fire and there was a latticework of fresh scars on his hands and arms from incantations gone wrong. Granted, she did have neglectful spells as well: she had once locked him out of the house completely when the moon was particularly full so that he could “moon bathe” (ostensibly to absorb the powers of the moon goddess) but really he could hear what sounded like a wild party within the house until the early hours of the morning. It had become a private joke between her and Jasper, though the bard at lest had the good sense not to laugh about it when Kel was around.

The Elements had been difficult to attune to and Kel couldn’t say he had exactly mastered them yet, but their study had gone surprisingly fast. After working through fire, Max had hiked with him to a high cliff to observe the wind and the element of air. He could not fly and was disappointed to learn that even the Magus herself had not mastered this art. But he could, as Max had put it, “fall with style.” By the end of the week, he could jump from far heights and land without a scratch.

To immerse Kel in the element of water, the sorcerer and her apprentice had splashed in the fountain that stood out upon the lawn. “It may look unimpressive,” she had told him, “but this is a Font of Ages. It is connected to the rivers and streams of Sephyria, the oceans of the world, and every body of water on the physical plane. You could say that it is a representation, an archetype, of those bodies.”

She had been understating the experience.

The violet stream of the fountain in which they bathed elongated to become a river, wild and frothing, then widened to encompass the sea placid for a time and then raging with storms and swells. Once Kel had learned to go with the flow, he had found that not only had his swimming improved, but he could also stay underwater for an unnaturally long time. He had not been prepared, however, for the moment that the violet sea upon which they floated finally evaporated into the air and he found himself on the cliff again.

He was now reflecting on these more adventurous lessons as he worked on his current, less interesting endeavor. Max had tasked him with banishing a ghost, something that he should have been more than competent to perform. He was having trouble, however. While many a baleful ghost was probably frightening and shocking to encounter, this lost soul was simply incredibly boring.

“And that’s how I ended up in Devonshire for a time,” the wizened, translucent figure droned on. This spirit was keen to discuss all sorts of minutia that Kel could care less about, but no amount of chanting or admonishment could make it shut up, much less banish it. For the better part of the morning, it had been complaining about the time and manner of its death.

Kel was almost ready to kill it again if it was in his power.

“Could you please, for a moment, be quiet?” He completed the circle for what felt like the billionth time and performed the sweeping movements that Max had taught him, intoning the words for the banishing. Nothing. Frustrated, Kel prepared to try again.

Max spoke behind him, “Remember the stone,” her voice trilling strangely in Avian. Aside from the words for spells, they had been holding most of their conversation in the various animal languages. Avian was a bit awkward for Kel because the language was halting and blunt. He liked sloth much better, to be honest.

Kel closed his eyes. He could feel the coolness of the earth, the feelings of peace he had felt. He centered himself in that power and repeated the movements, drawing the star and gesturing towards the ghost. Focusing on the light that surrounded him in his mind, he suddenly realized that it was now blissfully silent. Kel opened his eyes.

The ghost was gone.

“Wonderful! See, you’ve got it!” Max exclaimed. She seemed equally delighted that he had finally made the dull ghost disappear.

“Thank you Magus. Not to sound rude…”

“But you will anyway,” she frowned.

“Well, ghosts are harmless. So how is this useful?” He felt bad asking, but at the same time he felt that it was partly Max's fault - her own bluntness had begun to rub off on him.

Max huffed. “Because if you can banish a ghost, you can banish other things, smart ass.”

“Things meaning demons…like Poe.”

“Yes, like your passenger.” She seemed loathe to name the demon herself.

Kel hesitated, then proceeded to ask the thing that had been bothering him for some time now. “Something I’ve wanted to ask: is he truly gone?”

“It,” she replied pointedly, “is never truly gone.” She stood and began gathering components from the banishing. “Your parasite, as we’ll call him, is sufficiently suppressed. You won’t be completely rid of it, because you’ll always be able to call it. That is the real infection - you always have the option, the choice.” She blew out a series of candles and began to gently gather the crystals that they had strewn about the room. “But you’ve seen what it truly is and every time you call it, it’s more and more plain about its intentions: violence. I can’t seal your demon away completely, but I can make it significantly harder for you to call to it. At least for now. The stronger you become as a mage, the easier it will be for you to break that seal.”

“So I can never be rid of it?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

Kel looked crestfallen. Max patted him on the head consolingly.

“That is not, altogether, a bad thing. In my opinion, many people would be delighted to have a powerful ally that wants to kill your enemies for you. I think it could be useful, as it has been already. Just be sure you do not further indebt yourself to it - no deals or bargains.

“You can be sure about that.”

Max put the last of the candles away. “Once your training at the Academy is complete, you won’t need such a tool and I daresay you won’t be half as fearful of it. Your mind will be a weapon and a demon on a leash will be…redundant.”

“You’re saying I could be more dangerous than a demon?”

“I’m saying that potentially, you already are.” She grinned. “Okay, that’s enough for now. Go fetch that bard of yours and lets have dinner, eh?”