Ten Years Ago...

Academy City was having a serious problem. Namely, a serial arsonist had been starting fires in the common quarter of the city. For a month, this villainous ne'er-do-well had lit more than two dozen fires. His targets had included the homes, warehouses, business offices, and even prominent temples and orphanages. Only a single factor tied all of these fires together...

All of them were connected to affluent, influential commoners.

Obviously, the king was upset about this and had put a bounty on whoever it was that might be responsible. Unfortunately, no concrete leads had appeared, and the arsonist was getting bolder in his attacks. Several people had already died in the fires that this miscreant had set. Worse, perhaps, was that he was starting to inspire copycats in other cities in the kingdom, and while none of these imitators had come close to being as effective or as elusive as the Academy City Torch, as he came to be known as, they were a clear sign that the longer the culprit remained at large, the greater an effect his actions would have on the kingdom as a whole.

Lily, being only five years old at the time, knew nothing of this. She was at her father's law office, helping out. Her father had decided to have a tall bookcase removed, and transfer all of the books onto a pair of shorter, wider bookshelves so that he could have a new window put into the building. He'd removed all of the books already and installed the replacement bookshelves, and had tasked his young daughter with getting the stacks of books organized alphabetically and transferred to the new bookcases.

It was busywork, but it would make sure that the young girl didn't get into any trouble while her father was away dealing with sudden development in one of his legal cases. There were no open flames in the building, since the barrister had, like many who regularly use books in the city, replaced all light sources with enchanted quartz crystal lamps, and the glass windows he had were magically reinforced so that it would take a war hammer to shatter them. The books were in short stacks all over the floor, so there was no risk of them falling over and hurting his child. Lily was a quiet, even-tempered, and obedient child, so there was effectively no risk of her getting up to any mischief in his absence.

With the door locked, he had every reason to believe his daughter would be perfectly safe until he got back.

It wasn't his fault, what happened next. Arven Smythesson was a prominent commoner, yes, but he was one who regularly worked with members of the nobility, regardless of their political affiliation. He was famed, in fact, for his neutrality, so much so that even members of the conservative faction had been known to seek out his assistance in legal matters. He viewed himself as the least likely commoner to ever be a target of the serial arsonist attacking the city.

He could not have known that the arsonist was a member of the ultra-conservative fringe, and as such viewed anyone of common blood as the enemy.

And that was why Lily was huddling in a corner, as far away from the spreading flames as she could be. She'd already gotten a few small burns on her hands, body, and face, trying to escape the building or find a way out. She had learned, to her horror, that there was no escape. The inferno was raging beyond control, and she had maybe a minute before the flames reached her. At this point, all she could do was whimper and cry in the corner...

And then... it began to snow. She stared up in awe as snowflakes began to descend, first in small numbers, but soon in a vast blizzard erupted that snuffed out the flames. Then, a section of the wall collapsed, and a figure stepped in. He was incredibly tall and broad, although the thick and heavy furs he wore made it impossible to tell if he was immensely muscular or profoundly fat. He had a long, bushy beard and a long, flowing mane of hair. He clutched a staff in one hand, the crystal atop it glowing a gentle blue light as this mysterious man controlled the blizzard that had saved young Lily's life.

Seeing the young girl, the massive man scooped her up in one hand and carried her out, speaking gentle, calming words in a language that Lily could not understand as they emerged onto the street to a crowd that burst into cheers and applause the moment they came into view.

She'd later learned that this giant of a man was a powerful magus and shaman by the name of Krause Winterborne. He was a sage and scholar from a nation far to the north who had visited the royal academy to see about obtaining copies of a few of their tomes of arcane wisdom so that he might help to further his people's knowledge of magic. He'd happened to be passing by when he noticed all of the commotion, and after seeing the burning building and hearing Lily's cries, had stepped in to rescue her.

The wizard had set her down with a couple of members of the city watch and gave her a clump of magically conjured snow to hold against the worst of her burns, apologizing for not being able to do more since he did not have any skill when it came to mending injuries. While a healer had been requested, every wizard who knew healing magic had been called to a mine that had collapsed outside of town, and it would likely be at least a couple of hours before any help came. Krause had promised her that once the healers arrived, they'd be able to fix her up so well no one would know she'd ever been burned.

So, Lily had sat there hurting while the city watch talked to the wizard and to various people in the crowd. As a five-year-old girl, none of that seemed important to her. However, there was something that she did notice: There was a man on the ground nearby, his wrists and ankle bound, and he was moaning in agony. The reason why was plain to see, as his entire body was covered in terrible burns. No one seemed to be paying any attention to him or his suffering.

Lily could not have known that this was the man who had set the fire. He had been spotted by a sharp-eyed member of the guard who had noticed the arsonist standing apart from the crowd, his attention more on the gawkers than on the inferno. The guardsman had decided that this was suspicious, and had tried to go and question him. The arsonist had tried to run... and tripped.

The man in question had an ignition charge in his pouch, a magical item that, if thrown with sufficient force, would immediately burst into flames when it hit a solid object. Normally, the charge had to be primed before it could be triggered, but this particular one had a defect and had gone off the moment the arsonist had hit the ground.

The guards had done what they could to put out the flames, but the damage had been done. The arsonist had severe third- and fourth-degree burns all over his body. He had maybe an hour or two left to live without healing, and with no healers available, he'd spend what little of his life remained in absolute agony.

Lily knew none of that. She didn't know that he was a member of the ultra-conservative fringe, a man who thought that all commoners were no better than cattle. She didn't know that he'd felt this way due to his noble house having fallen apart due to poor decisions made by generations of incompetent patriarchs, and the man had misplaced the blame for his house's downfall on the rising commonfolk rather than accepting that his ancestors had, by and large, been idiots and poor businessmen.

She didn't know that, had she died in the fire he had started, he'd have felt no pity, guilt, or remorse at the death of a small, innocent child. All she knew was that he was suffering and no one was helping him. So, she walked over to where he lay, moaning in pain, and placed the clump of snow against his cheek, wishing that she could do more to help him.

Leaving aside the existence of Apache helicopters, the M1 Abrams tank, or the M32 Rotary Grenade Launcher, there is nothing more powerful in all of the cosmos than a young child's wish. In that one moment, Lily's wish to help another was so powerful, it allowed her to use her healing magic for the first time in her life, despite having had no training in her life beforehand.

Despite all narrative tradition screaming to the contrary, this did not suddenly mend the arsonist's burns completely, leaving him perfectly whole and unharmed, nor did it take all of his pain away. This was a small child doing the healing, not an adult, and while she poured everything she had into trying to help him, there are limits to what the magic of an untrained child can accomplish. As such, all she could manage was to reduce his third- and fourth-degree burns to merely second- and third-degree, respectively.

As the arsonist realized that his suffering, while still present, had been noticeably reduced, he looked up to see the small girl holding snow against his cheek. He saw the burns on her hands, her bare arms, and her face, as well as her singed clothing, clearly of common make. He put two and two together, realizing that this young girl had been in the building that he'd set alight. As comprehension dawned, he could only ask one question: "Why?"

"You were hurting," came Lily's immediate reply. "No one should hurt like you were hurting."

As Krause noticed Lily speaking to the arsonist, and quickly but gently pulled her away, the arsonist, for his part, could only hang his head in shame, at a loss for words.

Confused, Lily asked if she'd done anything wrong. Krause, the gentleness of his words unmistakeable despite his deep voice and thick accent, had simply said, "No, little one, you did exactly the right thing."

When Lily's father arrived a few minutes later, Krause informed him of Lily's ability to perform healing magic, as well as recommending that he find her a tutor to ensure that she develop that gift further. Krause ate dinner with Lily's family that night and would be a penpal to Lily until his death eight years later, passing peacefully in his sleep while surrounded by his loving family.

The arsonist, when questioned, had admitted to everything without reservation, and without any request for leniency in his punishment. Anyone who saw him in the days that followed, whether it be the trial, his imprisonment, or his subsequent execution, would note that for a man who had done such terrible things, he seemed deflated and morose.

Most attributed it to simply being depressed at having been caught, and not the fact that one of his would-be victims had shown more mercy or compassion to him than he'd have shown them, or that he deserved. The only time he showed anything resembling happiness was on the day of his execution, as he caught sight of the headsman's block, and smiled. That smile did not leave his face until after the ax came down.

As for Lily? Well, it would be years before she could put it into words, but this was the moment that planted the seed of an idea in her mind. That seed would eventually become the idea of what kind of wizard she would want to be. The kind of wizard who would stop whatever they were doing to help someone in need. A wizard who would defend the defenseless and help the helpless... whether they deserved it or not.