Lance Crown

Lance Crown was a second year Adler student at Easton Magic Academy. The Bureau of Magic insisted on having Lance prove to them on why he should be the next Divine Visionary, much to Headmaster Wahlberg's protests. Lance stood in the middle of the arena, looking right up into the members of the Bureau, whom were standing next to the headmaster in the spectator box. Some of them had anticipated looks on their faces while the others had smug smirks. Lance could feel his heart beating, the blood rushing into his ears as his eyes roamed around the colosseum-like arena. Every single student that attended Easton was up in the stands, anticipating for what was to come. Lance looked down at his feet, his hand gripping his wand so tightly, daring to break his precious weapon. His thoughts raced a thousand miles per hour. He thought about his little sister, Anna, who was slowly losing her magic. Lack-magics were treated like shit in the magic realm. They were viewed as less than dead. Lance thought about his poor sister's future as she was slowly turning into a lack-magic. His parents already disowned her, telling Lance himself that once her magic line was depleted, they were going to turn her in to the Bureau- the same bureau that was looking down at him right now, to have her killed. Lance emancipated himself after learning of their intentions. His parents were dead to him. Lance closed his eyes tightly as pain and anger enveloped him. "Fuck this." He muttered to himself. He looked up to the sky, his wand raised high in the air and bellowed out, "Graviole!!!!" In a split second, the battle arena started to rumble and shake. Bit by bit the cemented foundation started to crumble, toppling to the ground. Students and professors alike were panicking, screaming while frantically trying to exit the stadium. Lance had just created mass hysteria. Did he just make a statement to the Bureau? Did he just start a revolution? Was he about to go to war against the big dogs?