Many people may find it strange that I keep no company other than my wife and a close friend. That is, they would find it strange if they knew that is what I did. Of course, the fact that I live far outside the city, and far away from any place that would be considered "safe" by most people, tends to discourage explorers in our small area of the wilderness. If someone knew that we lived out here, and few do, they may ask why we choose to live as barbarians. The answer is that we wished to not become barbarians. Funny how things turn out, isn't it?
But you see, the possession of a certain gift tends to seal your fate in the capitol of Ethyon as a soldier. Particularly the fire type of said gift. My father commanded it, as well as my eldest brother. We came from a long, prestigious line of fire magi. Mother's second son had no gift for it whatsoever and was slightly bitter about it, though he masked it well with intense patriotism for the Empire. When he discovered me playing with candles and lighting matches without striking them, he immediately alerted mother, who in turn alerted the nearest guard, who in turn alerted the general trainer for magi in Ethyon. I was nine, and had no illusions that I would make a good soldier. I had no desire to fight for or against a tyrant, I could not follow orders (whether it be "Leave that alone, you don't know where it's been" or "Sweep up before the guest arrive"), I had no proficiency in combat and frequently came home with a black eye and bloodied nose that I earned from my refusal to fight back, and my only love was that of the natural world. I would much rather study plants than blade forging, and would prefer to watch birds than arrows. So I ran before they could force me to change.
Leaving the city was easy and fleeing into the deep woods was no problem. I never once saw any of the horrid beasts the old spinsters spoke of to frighten children. I never once met a carnivorous tree, or a spindly wraith. No, that wasn't an issue. The issue was the rain, and the chill that set around dusk, making the water almost too frigid to drink and the damp clothes stick to my skin without affording very much protection against the elements. I can't say I have ever felt as miserable as that first night in the mountains. I could find no food, I was bone weary and wet from my flight into the hills. I was East of the city, outside the guards' protection and paranoid about running into a bear or a wolf. I had no idea what to expect and the shadows seemed to grow as I ran past, reaching out to grasp me with dark tendrils. The only thing that gave me hope was the small candle I had hidden away in my shirt. I knew that I could light it as soon as I found a reasonably dry place, and that I would never be in want for fire once I mastered
But you see, the possession of a certain gift tends to seal your fate in the capitol of Ethyon as a soldier. Particularly the fire type of said gift. My father commanded it, as well as my eldest brother. We came from a long, prestigious line of fire magi. Mother's second son had no gift for it whatsoever and was slightly bitter about it, though he masked it well with intense patriotism for the Empire. When he discovered me playing with candles and lighting matches without striking them, he immediately alerted mother, who in turn alerted the nearest guard, who in turn alerted the general trainer for magi in Ethyon. I was nine, and had no illusions that I would make a good soldier. I had no desire to fight for or against a tyrant, I could not follow orders (whether it be "Leave that alone, you don't know where it's been" or "Sweep up before the guest arrive"), I had no proficiency in combat and frequently came home with a black eye and bloodied nose that I earned from my refusal to fight back, and my only love was that of the natural world. I would much rather study plants than blade forging, and would prefer to watch birds than arrows. So I ran before they could force me to change.
Leaving the city was easy and fleeing into the deep woods was no problem. I never once saw any of the horrid beasts the old spinsters spoke of to frighten children. I never once met a carnivorous tree, or a spindly wraith. No, that wasn't an issue. The issue was the rain, and the chill that set around dusk, making the water almost too frigid to drink and the damp clothes stick to my skin without affording very much protection against the elements. I can't say I have ever felt as miserable as that first night in the mountains. I could find no food, I was bone weary and wet from my flight into the hills. I was East of the city, outside the guards' protection and paranoid about running into a bear or a wolf. I had no idea what to expect and the shadows seemed to grow as I ran past, reaching out to grasp me with dark tendrils. The only thing that gave me hope was the small candle I had hidden away in my shirt. I knew that I could light it as soon as I found a reasonably dry place, and that I would never be in want for fire once I mastered
