[Malachi Lamech: Wand'ring About]
As the crowds dispersed after the fights, the worn, bald man stayed a bit, watching everyone file out of the auditorium to their respective rooms and classes. The former fighter wanted sometime alone. He couldn't fly like those who held sway over the wind, nor swim remarkably or create crystalline sculptures like those who steered the waters, nor create the cyclopean monoliths and great stone structures of those who harnessed the earth; he was burdened with fire. The memory of when he first learned to control fire was burned into his mind; he was so proud, so contentious with it. He violently wrenched fire, his ego reigning terror over reason in his body and mind and soul. He still remembers the look of utter pity Ajax gave him when Malachi graduated from the Academy, the look Malachi mocked and sneered behind the demigod's back.
Taking a moment and bathing in the memories, Malachi leaned against the wall and unceremoniously slouched onto the ground, his hands dancing embers along the wrinkles on his head. He closed his eyes, and continued to contemplate in utter miserable nostalgia. Malachi didn't work with fire, he was not smooth in his action, like an artist molding clay; he was rough and brutish. He pushed and shoved and pulled and yanked on fire, wanting the burning fluid to act the way he wanted. Malachi found one use for this: fighting. For the entertainment of elemental users, for the entertainment of himself, Malachi dug his way into black market rings and back alleyway boxing matches. He had found his calling, it seemed, a fighter, a violent, contentious man in a violent contentious field that could forever feed his ego. He grew powerful, mastering his destructive use of fire, mastering the natural force which shouldn't be mastered. In due time, he would pay for his hubris.
The former fighter, former monk, tired of living in the past, crept up, and wandered off. It was a matter of time, but eventually he would find himself observing the first year Earth students. Malachi's occupation at this acclaimed erudite complex was that of an Arcane teacher; he needed to find his student.
Escape will make me God.