I see how you fret, child. You are frustrated. Perhaps you feel you are not worthy. Perhaps you are correct. But know this, high above us, above the colored mages pushing their separate agendas, above the white mage with his grand ideas for the fate of the world and the black mage with his grand ideas to tear them down, the grey mage sits and studies in his chamber. And from this chamber, from the peak of Zhanyi Mountain, he can see the world afar, from all directions in front and behind, from the drowned home of Sapphale in the south to the Dragonbone Moors in the north, from the Everlit Beacon of Cantius in the east to the Scorched Desert of Dashun in the west, he sees all. But know this, child, he remembers all as well. And he remembers, long before he ever set eye upon his aerie chamber, long before he was the white mage failing to save his consort from the insanity of the Endless Stair, long before he was the green mage bargaining with the elder forest dragon of the Brashwood or inhaling the poison air of the Evermarsh, he too was a child, and he too was frustrated and did not feel worthy. But with time, patience, skill, and a little luck, he became the wizard that he is. So back to your studies child, as not all walk this same road, the limits of your power will only be restrained by the limits of your will.