Several years ago, I remember my teacher calmly telling me that magic could be very random. Melek was patient, though I inspired several palms-to-the-face from him. I do keenly remember this now, as fire apparently felt like having some fun with me today. It was cranky, recalictrant, and spiteful – and not in a good way.
My adventuring sidekicks were up to the task of keeping most of the assassins and zombies in the old building we stormed occupied, allowing me my proper position of choosing who should receive fire to the face. The very first time, however, it was my face. I was attempting to grow a beard and moustache, and now those two weeks of passive hair-growing work are rendered null and void. Thankfully, the next several times it were the faces of those I was attempting to aim at, so there’s that.