Taradiddle Lightstaff walked down to the river bank. He had just come from the temple of Laanx. The mage was raised as a deciple of Talad but as he grew to middle age he found little favor from any god in particular. Yet he still felt comfort in their existance in general. He sat down at the river's edge and watched the serpent gobbles snatching fish from the water.
There was a cool, quiet breeze and everything seemed softer and more settled after the recent rain. His attention turned from the gobbles to a leaf turning and floating happlessly down the river. As the leaf wandered down with the current, Taradiddle's thoughts wandered with it, back through many cycles of his life to his youth and to a man who's name he had just read in the Book of Names, back in the temple.
"If you cut these hollow reeds into short lengths and slip them over the legs of a starbug, like this..."
A slim, good looking Ylian youth looked on amused and amazed at the old magician as he placed the reeds onto the long-legged bug. With the reeds in place it no longer had the appearance of an insect. It looked remarkably like a man made of sticks.
The magician passed his hand over the bug and muttered some gutteral phrase. The starbug stood up on its hind legs and began to walk across the table. It looked for all the world like a tiny stick man strutting awkwardly at the old man's bidding.
Taradiddle was learning his first illusion from the old mage and showman, Bartle Houdin, the master of "Bartle's Show of Wonders". Bartle waved his hand over the small table again and the starbug fell flat, encumbered by the reeds.
"Now you do it." said Bartle.
Taradiddle repeated the words exactly as he had heard them and passed his hand over the starbug but nothing happened. The boy tried again, still nothing. This went on all morning and into the afternoon with no response from the insect and increasing frustration from the boy. Bartle watched as Taradiddle repeatedly failed until the boy got up and went to the window and looked out verging on tears.
"I don't think it is Talad's will that I become magical, master."
"Will is indeed what is needed here but not Talad's. Magic requires your will and the ability to focus it. You must also be able to charm the object of your spell to follow that will. That ability be called Charisma. Think in terms of the little mind of that starbug and how you might turn your intentions to his."
The boy returned to the table and tried again. Still there was no cooperation from the bug. Bartle came over to the table and handed him a stone ring. "This be the 'Spellweaver's Ring' given to me by my master who said it was crafted by the eldar gods themselves. As you cast your spell, look through the hole in the ring at our little friend there and focus your attention to his little thoughts. Don't be angry. Rather think of how amusing he looks when he walks for you."
Taradiddle looked through the ring and remembered the little stick man. He concentrated at his tiny subject and repeated his spell. This time he felt a tingle of joy as his hand passed over the table. The creature jumped to its hind legs and wobbled across the table! The old man and the lad laughed triumphantly. "Well done Taradiddle!, said Bartle. " Release the poor thing from your spell and those reeds. Set him free. He has had a harder a day than you I'll wager."
Taradiddle obeyed the magician and took the reed pieces from the bug and set it outside. He went to his little spellbook and started repeating other casts as he focused his will through the ring to other things. Living or not, each subject responded. By dinner time the young, new mage could flip a clacker from thirty meters away.
Evening came and Bartle called out. "Come in now, boy! Tis time for tea!"
Taradiddle entered the little house.
"Give me back the ring please." said Bartle.
Taradiddle hesitated but obeyed. The old man dropped the ring into a pot of water he had just placed over the fire. "The only power that stone has is to rattle our pot when the water boils. You just needed to focus your will and charisma."
Taradiddle was astonished. "It was not fashioned by the gods?"
"Faith in a god is good Taradiddle. Have faith in the god of your choosing, but trust in man. And trust yourself most of all. Now make our tea." said Bartle.
Taradiddle heard the rattling of the stone ring coming from the pot on the hearth.
