Patch wasn’t even his current name. It wasn’t his wizard name either. His mother called him Patch, and he was called Patch while growing up. He considered it his one true name. A name like Patch would generate little awe in the world of magic. In fact, it would be a detriment. It sounded more like the name of pet. Besides, all wizards changed their names when they embraced their calling. The more syllables the better. Although Patch didn’t see much sense in more than three syllables; four or more syllables turned a name into a chore. Rastabelleon. Marticusassling. The ever powerful Sharagatamlasog. Gartalon he had named himself. The Wizard Gartalon. It sounded silly to him now. All wizard names sound silly to him now, but not in his youth. Gartalon held no special meaning; he had liked the sound of it. And since it had no real meaning it took on a meaning of its own based on the exploits of The Wizard Gartalon.
It had been 14 years since Patch last resided under the name Gartalon. Wizards mature young and typically die young. Sharagatamlasog had died particularly young. Patch had retired young, and taken up a new name. A name to hide beneath. Jask. He was known as Farmer Jask. He also changed his appearance, which were quite easily the most painful spells he had ever endured, far more painful than attacking spells from other wizards.
The field finally plowed Patch stabled his horse, put the barn in order, and washed up for supper.