Kyron stared at him for a few seconds. Zorian suppressed the instinct to shuffle nervously in place and returned the man’s eye contact. Kyron seemed like the sort of person who would be impressed by that.
“I hope you don’t find this insulting, sonny, but you just don’t have enough power to be a proper battlemage,” Kyron finally said. “Your shaping skills are rather impressive for your age, but you tire after only ten shots from the rod. And that just won’t do in any serious combat.”
“Well, I kind of know that,” admitted Zorian. His reserves had increased slightly from what they had been when he first tackled the combat magic class, so ten was actually an improvement. “Incidentally, is there anything I can do about that?”
“Nothing I would recommend,” Kyron said, shaking his head. “You
