One spellbook. That was all that was given to me. A measly, flimsy spellbook was given to me by the Wizard King via mail. Despite the thirty pages of lousy script and sloppy illustrations, my gift only had one spell. One single spell.
But I wasn't upset. Hell, I was overjoyed. My hard work had paid off, I was officially a Magic squire! And my spell wasn't even that bad. Flame resistance could come in handy here in the Diamond kingdom.
You may be wondering why I'm fine with below average magic. Everyone else wants to be a powerful mage. The dream life would be achieving the rank of Mage king, one of the four strongest mages in existence.
But me, I'm fine where I'm at. I don't want to be strong. I never wanted powerful spells. I could care less about being a king. I've seen what power does to you. And it isn't pretty.