133784115

Writing Prompt:
“You come from the long line of sorcerers who deem themselves defenders of the earth. Sadly, you didn’t really get hang of this “magic” thing, but you have a different talent.”

My father was a Red Mage. His father was a Grey Mage. His father was a Purple Mage. I can trace my lineage back through twenty-eight generations, covering hues from all over the spectrum, every last one of the geezers a Mage.

Me? I’m a Green Nothing. Not a shred of magic in me. At least, not as far as I can tell. And I’m still a damn hero.

I’ve had to sit back and watch countless times as Pops whisked away to save the world from Demonic-Emergence-This and Elder-God-That. I’ve witnessed Gramps banishing Wights, Shades, Lichs and more. I can’t even ignore it and try to be normal, because the two of them insist on making me sit in on Mage Council meetings, hoping something might ignite the gift in me. I tried to tell them it’s a waste of time, but their need to save face is just too strong. So I would slouch in the council chamber, trying to ignore the floating screen displaying whatever current magical heroics were occurring in the world.

Things were different when the Ma’le’gas invaded.

They were nigh invincible. It happened so quickly. One minute the skies were sunny and clear, and the next they were filled with gargantuan spacecraft, each miles long from end to end, looking like circuitry-covered bricks ready to fall and crush the world. Their weapons were devastating, reducing every major government center in the world to rubble faster than the human eye could detect it. Not even a flash of light to accompany the destruction.

The council immediately threw everything it had at the invading aliens, to no avail. Every spell bounced harmlessly off their shields. Our human magic was no match for their extraterrestrial technology. After an hour of fruitless labor, the council reconvened to argue over their next course of action. It struck me as odd that there had been no further aggression from the intruders.

Then, booming across the sky all around the world like an unfathomably large PA system, came The Ultimatum.

“HUMANS. BRING FORTH A CHAMPION. UNLESS WE WITNESS A SWEET 360 NOSCOPE COD RAMPAGE IN THE NEXT TEN EARTH MINUTES, WE WILL DESTROY YOUR WORLD. 420 BLAZEIT BITCHES.”

The council was dumbfounded, but I knew my moment had come. I stood up in the following silence, put on my shades, cracked open a Mountain Dew, and said, “I got this one.”

 

Original Prompt: Reddit – Different Talent

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