Author's Note: Just a quick one, because I happen to have a slight (read massive) obsession with Arthurian Legend and whatnot. Some characters are based on Arthurian Legend. Maggie and her brother are just characters I made up for this short scene.

When I first started taking magic I was astonished to realize that I wasn’t getting a spell book.
“What do you mean?!” I cried to my long, white-bearded mentor, “This is ridiculous! I can’t just memorize all the spells I’ll need!”
“No,” he said with a smile, straightening his plain purple robes as he set out to go and gather herbs, “Of course not! But not to worry, there are no words to memorize!”
I stared after him dumbfounded, my eyebrows laced together in confusion, before racing after, forced to keep a quick pace by the length of his stride. “What? So one doesn’t use a word to invoke a magical effect?”
“I never said that,” he said pleasantly but cryptically.
“Then why-” I muttered in frustration, “I mean, they never taught us…! I can’t just-”
“I said there were no words to memorize,” he reminded me patiently, “And there aren’t. Spells change with so many factors, natural, unnatural, and emotional, that you must adjust for that it becomes automatically necessary to invent a new adjustable unlocking phrase altogether for every use of a spell. They would never teach such a complex theory in conventional beginner’s magic books or classes, so I see how you might be surprised.”
“Wait,” I gasped out in horror, “I’m meant to make up the spells myself?”
“No,” he said, rolling his eyes, “Obviously not! That would be stupid and impossible! You have to open your mind and soul and use your powers of observation to find and pluck the desired spell from its natural environment. It’s a simple matter of meditation.”
My jaw dropped. “I can’t just pluck spells from midair!”
“That’s curious indeed,” my mentor laughed, “Do you perhaps have a magic allergy?”
I glared at him until my face turned the color of his robes. “NO! But you can’t just get something from nothing! That’s the purpose of magic words in the first place!”
“It’s not from nothing,” he told me seriously, blue eyes narrowed in annoyance, “It’s from knowledge!”
“Oh,” I laughed sardonically, “Great! I’m so glad I have such an able wizard as my teacher that he won’t even provide me with a darn spell book!”
“Don’t be an idiot,” he snorted again, “That’s not how magic works! It’s intuitive!”
“Then what’s your job?!” I screamed, “To teach me how to just know?!”
“I don’t know,” the wizard sighed, running a hand down his weary, wrinkled face, “I didn’t sign up for this!”
I stared at him for a long time, and then shook my head, grabbed my still unpacked rucksack, and left without a word.
My brother was still outside waiting to hear if I’d settled in so he could head home. When he saw me, he looked surprised at the intense fury in my eyes.
“Hey… Maggie?” he asked, taking a step back, “What’s wrong?”
“We’re going home!” I growled, “This guy’s a nut job! He doesn’t believe in spell books!”
“What?” my brother gasps, “But I thought he was world renowned or something!”
“Well, he’d lost it,” I grunted, throwing my bag on out little wooden cart. “Old age or something! I guess I’ll just have to be a merchant, like father said. Huzzah.”
I bit my lip, trying to hold in my emotions. Being a merchant like father was the worst fate imaginable. It meant I was a failure, and not a magic user of any kind. It meant giving up all hope in making a difference, of learning something new. It meant never being anything special.
My brother rolled his eyes and grabbed my wrist, before he reached into his robe’s pocket. “You could just have my hand-me-down book, you know,” he sighed, “All you had to do was ask.”
I stared at the small, bent and dusty tome he’d placed in my hands, tears of joy filling my eyes. “Thank you,” I whispered.
He shrugged. “Yeah, sure, no problem. Shame your mentor was such a flop.”
I shrugged back, climbing up onto the cart and pulled him up after me. “It’s all right,” I snorted, “Honestly, I feel a bit sorry for him. He seemed like he actually thought he knew what he was talking about! Poor, crazy lunatic!”
We laughed and started the horse off moving, heading back for home, just a pair of young wizarding apprentices and a small, dusty book, out for adventure in the big, wide world.
What we didn’t see was the wizard we’d left behind, who, without a single spell book in sight, easily created a large pond from the palm of his hands and summoned a spirit to connect him to speak to the spirit world of Avalon.
“Ah, Merlin!” said the face of a young woman reflected in the pool with a smile, “I haven’t seen you in ages! How’s the search for Arthur going?”
“Not well,” said the old wizard, who was, in fact, the best known sorcerer to ever live, “I fear that the time of his realm and its peace have passed. Even magic is being caught up in new, unhealthy fashions. It’s time for him to rise. The time of the once and future king is anon! So where in the world is he?!”

steel_attacker : Thanks! I was thinking they were teens, but no age specifically. Maggie is probably around thirteen and her brother is probably around seventeen.

Wow. Impressive work here. This is a great bit of story, and well written. I'll be watching for more.