“There's this idea that creatures of magic, being made of magic, cannot themselves do magic. It's Bull, as proved by the actual existence of ghost wizards, wizard tulpas, witch-doll witches, self-summoning sandsprites, and of course me. But there's a shred of truth in it. It does make a difference when the power you wield is your own life essence. You have more natural control, but also more risk.

“Any wizard can overreach and exhaust their power. A human, say, will be left crotchety and tired and out of action for maybe a week. If I did that, well, they'd sweep me up after and put me in the compost. Respectfully, I hope.

“I very much fear that I will someday meet this end. Narrative Causality is real, whatever the Brokenbeak School say. I am quirky and sweet and singular, and so I shall eventually meet a climactic plot line in which I will be called on to spend my last life-energy in a spell to save the Jellybees or whatever. It's the sort of contrived narrative the gods create to gently teach their children that Death Is A Thing (except for gods). And I will sacrifice myself since, to my unending frustration and regret, I am Pure Of Kernel.

“I will twist and turn to stave off this fate, but it will come, depend on it. I accept my eventual death - all beings end, even cute quasi-inanimate constructs - but I resent dying Educationally.”

Pericarp the Nut Mage, last surviving creation of the Pre-Dawn Artificers, is a keeper of Deep Counsel, blessed of the World Soul, rich in Omega-3 and still cheesed off about Artax.