"I shall bind the stars and bend the whims of a galaxy to soothe thy terrible pain," said the golden mage.

"I shall will the gods to erase this stupendous sickness out of your body," said the silver mage.

"I shall mix some ginger, vinegar and bicarbonate of soda and he shall shite this out of his arse by noon," said the ruffled mage, who had been woken up from his afternoon nap for this.

There was a long, slightly disgusted silence following these admittedly coarse words.

"How barbaric," said the golden mage.

"He's got a stomachache!" shouted the most-definitely angry mage, pointing at the ailing noble, "he's been downing cauliflowers for two days and needs a good fart, this all."

The silver mage scoffed. Not the usual scoff done by the bored person who finds no better way to express having heard words by blowing some air out of the nose and making a face. No. This was more of a show-all-your-disdain-towards-the-lower-classes-in-the-span-of-an-instant scoff. Unfortunately for the silver mage, the mage who was done giving a crap had gotten the message.

"Oi! Cunt!" he shouted, rolling up the sleeves of his nightgown, revealing some very non-scholarly forearms, "why don't you come here and make that face right before mine?" By the time he was done asking the question, the silver mage had already dived under a low table.

"It was a really bountiful cauliflower harvest this year," said the noble who hadn't been asked, "I had to celebrate by eating lots of cauliflowers."

"I can still bend the stars and galaxies if needed," said the golden mage to nobody in particular.

"Listen mate," said the aggravated mage to the noble while starting to throw ingredients into a cauldron and lighting a fire in the middle of the chamber, "I cook this, you drink it, you fart. Pain's gone. But open the window, because it's about to smell."

Three pair of eyes looked at the cauldron and fire with some confusion. Normally, a mage would make them appear out of thin air. This mage didn't. He had carried ingredients, cauldron and firewood with him.

Which was all the more impressive considering he had been woken up minutes ago without being told what the problem was.

"It was a really, big, bountiful cauliflower harvest," said the noble to break the silence, not realizing silence would have been preferable to hearing his voice, "we even had lots of cauliflower thefts and there's still enough for everyone."

The silver mages, from the flimsy cover of the low table, contorted to point at the cauldron in confusion.

"Wot u lukin at, mate? When was the last time you had to lift a curse or kill a dragon? 99% of the time it's a cow suffering from gas, or a noble suffering from gas, or a noble who wants a new perfume (which can also be considered gas depending on how you look at it). You think they'd write books about dragons and curses if it was common? Nah mate, it's because it's so rare that it's interesting. But this!" The angry mage planted his index in the noble's belly, which left out a noise warning about an incoming bad smell, "that's reality for most folks around here."

"I really wanted to bend the stars and galaxies."

"Bend them somewhere el... what's that noise?"

Indeed. Beyond the fascinating discourse about a variety of gazes, the boiling kettle and the bickering mages, a low rumble rose. Mighty, powerful. Roaring.

"A dragon!" shouted the silver and golden mages.

"U wot mate?" asked the not that well behaved mage.

Gold turned to a comet and sprang out the window, silver levitated - with the low-table on his back and followed gold. They were gone in a whisk to deal with the legendary, once-in-a-millenium threat, while the exhausted with this nonsense mage stayed to make a rich person fart.

To this mage's credit, it worked wonders, and the sweet scent of digested cauliflowers filled the room with the praise of a very happy noble as the trumpet of judgement times started to roll outside and the stars were about to fall on Earth like angry comets.

The gold mage appeared in a whirlwind of golden dust.

"Believe it or not, and I know I don't," he told his esteemed if hard to work with colleague, "but I need your help."

"How?"

"I translated the dragon's tongue with the power of stars and galaxies. Didn't think I'd get to use it today."

"And?"

"He's got a stomachache."

"Oh."

A whirlwind of silver dust, and in came the other mage.

"I can bend the will of the gods so they lend us a bigger cauldron. And lots of bicarbonate too, you know, just in case," said the silver mage.

The room got dark. Through the window, the large, iridescent eye of the dragon obscured their world and gazed through them.

"Aye. We gonna need a really big cauldron for this one," said the surprised mage.

"So that's the one who stole all the cauliflower!" the noble felt the need to add.

All three mages turned to face the noble.

"Man, shut the fuck up," they said in unison.