There was a young Wizard named Clover, still early in her schooling, she had learned the basic secrets and could craft circles, but still did not completely understand many of the finer points of the magic. She had aptitude for magic, and her teachers knew it, they could sense her brimming energy and eagerness to learn, and tried to steer her right.
She was young, and active, and with the activity of youth came a great impatience. She excelled at action, at spells that were quick. Her circles, however, were hastily constructed and drawn and energized, so they also, quite naturally, hastily broke down. She could set a fire or create lightning or summon water, but she couldn't master any spell that required any sort of time.
Now, the time came for exams, and spells of protection were, quite naturally, on the exams, as they formed not only an important field of study, but an integral part of the life of every Wizard, for the Wizards were often sought out by soldiers of the far-off King. So, Clover was very worried, as she wanted to pass her exams. Her teachers were worried too, they liked Clover and wanted to see her succeed to her potential, but they could not seem to help her, could not seem to rid her of the subconscious haste, and her spells, though sometimes lasting up to some abuse, would still quickly fizzle and die.
A fortnight before the exams, Clover retreated into her room for an entire week. She rarely even left for food, and missed many of her lectures during that time. She took stack after stack of the thin-sliced paper and bottles and bottles of ink in, constantly working away constructing spell-circle after spell-circle, practicing for hours and hours until she could practice no more.
At the end of this, she emerged, drowsy and beaten, from her room. She staggered around as if she had never before seen the light, and rushed to the dining hall. She ate prolific and extreme amounts of food, as if to make up for the past week. Her fellow students wanted to know, had she improved, had her extreme measures gotten her what she wanted? However, they could not get it out of her, she remained silent to all who approached, but seemed quite upset. They figured, and correctly, that Clover's extreme hard work and study had not borne fruit, and she was still in great trouble for the exams.
For two days, Clover was seen all places on campus, wandering from place to place. She did not seem to be studying or learning, just going around place to place, moping worried from the stress. Occasionally, her teachers would go up to her, trying to help or even determine the problem, but she pus/hed them away each time.
Clover was very frightened. She knew her teachers meant well, but she worried quite a bit about the results of the test. She felt like the teachers couldn't help her at all, and she started to feel very dumb. She wished that she could find a secret, something, anything, that would help her with this. She wondered why everything had seemed so easy and she had been so good at things beforehand, but now it was all collapsing, and she felt like she would never be good at it again. She worked herself into more and more of a panic the further and further time went on.
One of her teachers had mostly sat back from helping her. He was concerned, yes, but he felt like pushing her directly like the other teachers were doing would only worsen her mood. He felt he had to be more subtle to be helpful. He looked around and found one of her spell-circles, and examined it. From a glance it looked good, if plain, but his trained eye noticed all the faults, all the wobbly lines and slightly bent runes, all the places that could not hold up to the influx of power, and failed when someone actually tried to use it. He had an idea, and he sought out a rather talented upperclassman to see if he could put his plan into motion.
The upperclassman sought out Clover, and he asked her if she would like her bag enchanted for protection. Clover initially felt bad about this, thinking about how pathetic she was for not being able to do this herself, but she steeled herself, and vowed to watch the upperclassman to see if she could learn anything from him.
The upperclassman started off extremely slow, and with the very center of the circle. Using a fine ink and brush, he painted a very intricate geometrical patter. Carefully, he encased the geometrical design inside a perfect circle. Clover was impatient at the time this took. She asked, 'Why are you drawing all this extra stuff, it's isn't like it means anything!” The upperclassman, still focused on his work, and starting to carefully inscribe the runes, simply said, “It isn't like that.” In a few minutes, once the work was done and properly energized, she thanked him, and she was starting to get it. She spoke, in epiphany, “I was rushing through all of my circles, trying to get from one to the next. When I tried to do so many, I lost focus on the one I was doing. I chose quantity over quality, and ended up with a mass of poor circles. The designs may not do anything, but they do mean something. They focus you and give you structure for the rest of the circle.”
Clover walked away, satisfied. That night, in her room, she made a protection spell. It didn't last as long as normal, but it lasted longer. Each night after that, she tried once more, and improved a vast deal each time. By the time of her test, she could do it well, and she passed it with flying colors. She continued on, voraciously learning, and became very heavily involved and entwined with the school and learning in her later life.
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