“Gifted – common folk believes that some people are ‘Gifted’(estimated 14% of humans) – able to learn something much faster and often do it better than it should be normally possible. Such skills vary greatly – they can manifest as a talent for magic, swordsmanship, playing the harpsichord, sculpturing, drawing, cooking or even something so mundane as cleaning.

A term ‘Gifted’ derives from teachings of various temples, that for ages claimed talents to be gifts from (their) god to believers or – more often – their offspring, as 68% of Gifted shows their potential in a given discipline around age 7-9 (for pure-blooded humans; among longer living races the ‘Gifted’ occurs more often, with later median age)

While we currently lack any method that would help predetermine a type of the ‘Gift’ an individual develops, it could be safely assumed that ‘Gifts’ of the same type are not hereditary. They might, in the rare cases, further enhance an expressed hereditary trait (for more specific information refer to the ‘Magical bloodlines’ and its appx.128 – ‘bloodlined or gifted – the average age of 7th circle mages’).

It can't be forgotten that not only beings which we commonly consider sentient can be ‘Gifted’ (refer to an appx no. 754 – ‘c8th Control Monster experiments – harpsichord play progress amongst Slimes’).

Results of those researches open a question; maybe many more people are somehow ‘Gifted’ but often in such absurd ways that they won’t be able to ever discover it?”

- the excerpt from ‘Encyclopaedia Arcana – G’

Ionathan spent most of his life in Windhelm, a large city in the Rikse Kingdom, being raised mainly by his father Gerard. His mother died when he was four years old, during a trollpox epidemy. Gerard, being a veteran of the campaign against the Phenyth Kingdom, worked as one of the captains of the city guard.

As Gerard’s sister Mariana owned a general store just three streets away from their house, Ion visited her often, staying in her care during his father’s shifts, either playing with his older cousin Aaron or, when he became old enough, being schooled in reading and basic calculations along with the cousin.

Sometimes, during Ion's father's free days, when Steven, Mariana's husband, needed to buy some merchandise from further away, Gerard assisted his trips as a caravan guard.

Gerard, being a fighter first and foremost, wanted to teach Ion his crafts – so at the age of 7, he started training, beginning with an axe, his dad’s favoured weapon.

However, having close to no progress during the first few training sessions, it was decided that it would be better for Ion to start using another weapon. Under the joint guidance of Gerard and his friends from the city guard, it was decided that Ion appeared to have some degree of talent in using a spear. It wasn't even close to the level of the Gifted, but still above average. His efforts with a weapon often earned him honest praise from the father.

It was around three years later, when Ion’s dad decided to teach him about runes used by fighters, temporarily making their weapons sharper, armours more durable, packages lighter.

Runes, whenever Ion spotted one, were always something he was drawn to – mysterious shapes, that once finished and infused with mana would start to work, sustaining themselves for some time, until mana runs out or either a material used to draw them with, or a one on which they were drawn, could no longer bear the energy flowing through it.

Among Riksians, most people were able to operate mana to some degree. Due to this, it was no wonder that various runes weren't a rare sight for a common folk. Many things in a daily life could be facilitated by their use; from keeping food warm or cold for longer periods of time to erecting complicated building by making some of their parts more durable until more materials could be used.

How long a rune lasted depended on many factors, for starters most important would be a quality of materials used, a type of the rune drawn and the skill of the runemaker – not only with engraving runes but also with infusing them with a correct amount and type of mana.

Too much could lead to the overload and fasten materials degradation, too little would rend them inert earlier and wouldn’t allow them to display full power. This was the most important and the hardest trait to obtain for those who wanted to make runes for a living; even the most intricate patterns of high-level runes would be almost useless if someone who infused them had no ‘feeling’ and was unable to do it correctly.

Because of that even if many people had a potential to use runes, only a few had patience and skill required to use them reliably for tasks that were more complicated.

It was no different in the Riksian army; while it was expected from soldiers to know how to engrave runes on their weapons, they rarely were doing this by themselves. It was far better to entrust this task to someone experienced; not only the runes made by a specialist would be more powerful, but also the strain they've put on the equipment would be lesser.

While learning, Ion often imagined himself as a future Runescribe or Runesmith, who engraved various items with powerful runes and was selling them to nobility. Who explored ruins of old with hired mercenaries, searching for long-forgotten patterns… It was a heavy blow for him when Gerard finally decided he has to tell him that with his talent in the runemaking – definitely not bad, but still too meagre for any Runescribe to seriously consider taking him as an apprentice – he would have to spend many, many years struggling to even have a chance to join ranks of Runescribes. The cost of resources and guidance far above Gerard's financial ability to provide with his earnings.

Wanting to cheer his son up, he decided to teach him about combat mana manipulation. While the skill was fairly easy to grasp basics, mastering it was much harder. Because of that, Gerard tried to lessen his son’s expectations.

Which were vast.

Living in a city as big as Windhelm, it would be impossible for Ion to grow up not witnessing the feats of magic.

Having seen a wizard or cleric using some spell on the street, listening to stories about brave paladins; holy fighters devoted to gods, hearing rumours about assassins, able to cover themselves with shadows whenever they wanted, teleport through them, or even summon shadowy monsters to assist them in the combat… Ion imagined that with his father’s training, becoming one of them was just a single step away.

Even if Gerard tried to explain him, that spells were the least important thing that could be achieved by using mana, his son was deaf to his arguments.

For fighters such as Gerard, the importance in combat mana manipulation lain in an ability to empower oneself with it; a fighter could strengthen his body, make it more resistant to physical or magical damage, make his strikes faster and more powerful.

Learning how to use it to cast spells wasn’t something Gerard considered worth wasting time on.

It was a common reasoning in the Rikse Kingdom, and probably also rest of the world, as a general trend in the affinity towards spellcasting was similar to that with writing runes; while many people could cast a few basic spells quite reliably – which were known as cantrips by mages – only handful were able to learn how to use them efficiently.

Even less would be capable of casting proper structured spells; mostly those ‘Gifted’ in magic, wealthy nobles and merchants. Many of those willed to invest in tutoring and pay for various alchemical components to enhance their minds. Some of them also had magical bloodlines and various rare resources at their disposal.

And yet, even with all that efforts, many wizards after years or decades of a hard training would find themselves stuck with knowledge of only handful 4th or 5th circle spells. While powerful and capable of changing tides of battles on their own, by putting spent resources toward training warriors and gearing them in decent enchanted and runed armours, one would create much more reliable force. And said force would be far less likely to pursue its own agenda.

Putting it simply, for the majority of common folk, an effect achieved by casting a cantrip or even a spell if he could manage to do it, was usually not worth concentration and effort required to do so.

Why would someone want to spend minutes concentrating on a small stick to ignite it, suffering nausea and exhaustion afterwards, if he could do it much quicker with a flint?

Of course, there were some spells which could be useful in emergency situations, such as ‘Light’, but they often required something called by mages a material component, which was destroyed by magical energies on a cast. One could argue that if one suddenly stumbles into a dark cavern it would be easier for him to find a firefly or a pile of phosphorescent moss to cast said cantrip than to find himself a flint and a torch in such a situation, but many would not consider it as a valid point.

The difficulties in using spells were even more visible when a caster was under a pressure, such as in a combat.

He needed not only to perform his spells swiftly but also had to maintain a concentration even if someone was threatening him with an unsheathed blade. It wasn’t uncommon for even a talented apprentice to die in an encounter with a relatively weak monster, because he was too afraid to focus on casting spells he knew. True, it happened sometimes to novice fighters too, but breaking out of such stupor and trusting the movements that were drilled into them during training was far easier for the latter.

While learning basics of combat mana manipulation drew Ion back to training with his spear, exactly like Gerard hoped, his pleads and dreams about learning how to cast spells haven’t stopped. Finally, seeing Ion still struggling to properly infuse his strikes with mana, Gerard gave up to his pleads.

Combat or inner mana manipulation at it was often called, after grasping its basics required one to instinctively direct mana to the parts of body one wished to strengthen. As Ion was seemingly unable to achieve this, Gerard hoped that by explaining to his son how to use some cantrips that he has picked up during his active duty on the frontlines, the boy would gain a better feel for mana.

He began teaching his son the handful few utility spells he knew; ‘Light’, ‘Know Direction’ (showing where North is) and ‘Purify Water’(which was mainly utilised by soldiers when they needed to make water drinkable but couldn’t set up a campfire to boil it).

While Ion managed to learn the cantrips relatively quickly, during the next few months he still hadn’t advanced with infusing his strikes with mana.

Dejected by his lack of progress, Ion reluctantly asked Gerard about his chances to become a wizard. After all, by now he could cast cantrips much faster than his dad. Moreover, in the meanwhile, he managed to learn a Message from his aunt Mariana; it was a spell used to communicate with someone else over short distances with close to no risk of being overheard.

His father, who always perceived mages as people who achieved unparalleled skill in mana manipulation tried to explain Ion that until he masters using his inner mana to enhance his strikes in combat, he would be never able to learn more complex spells. His answer shattered Ion.

Ion still kept training with other children of guards, but as the time passed, with more and more of them grasping a feel of inner mana manipulation, his position as a one ‘talented with a spear’ changed into ‘average’ within their group.

For some time Ion tried to delude himself that they were simply getting stronger faster than him. He was, even after training for more than 6 years, still relatively skinny. He has developed some musculature, but it wasn’t comparable to the others. He could feel himself getting faster, reacting quicker thanks to his training, but stronger? Not at all.

One day, frustrated after failing six mock duels in a row, he angrily ditched his training spear and left the training grounds. He decided to change the approach, trying to recreate what he heard about rogues and assassins, hoping that their ways would be easier for him. For days he played with wooden daggers, one or two at times, hiding in shadows, imagining that he would force them to envelop himself, willing them to do something… to no avail.

During this time news about an orcish invasion and fall of Fallpoint, a garrisoned city protecting mountain passage on the southern border of the Rikse Kingdom arrived, soon followed by a flood of refugees and their stories about armies advancing towards Leisha's Crossroads.

Gerard along with other guards had much more to do these days, trying to keep the city safe. By the end of the week heralds of House Cloyd were on the streets, convincing townsmen and refugees to join the gathering forces; apparently the king ordered nobles to mobilise their soldiers.

Gerard, still having 3 years of his active duty in the army to serve, as many other veterans from the war against the Phenyth Kingdom, along with almost a half of the regular city guard, was put under direct command of the 2nd son of Duke Richard Cloyd, Knight Rodric, who was given few of his father’s bodyguards to protect him during the expedition.

As the invaded territory was not that far away from the duke’s own, he wanted to field more than a token army to limit ridings that his own domain would suffer from orcs, in case that the kingdom’s forces would be pushed back. Also, the safest route connecting Windhelm with Utherlight led through Leisha's Crossroads; if the city were to fall, his domain would lose much profit from the trade. Due to this, the duke tried to reinforce his forces by hiring mercenaries, buying favours from temples and trying to get an assistance of some wizards.

Finally, with clerics and paladins sent by both temples located in town: of Uther, God of the sun, rumoured to be the progenitor of the royal bloodline, and of Shiela, Goddess of fertility, with hired mercenaries, some rangers and village troops recalled from countryside, Gerard, now as a part of Rodric’s personal unit, formed the core of the forces to be sent to merge with the kingdom’s army; more than a thousand people knowing their craft.

There were also many commoners and farmers lured by heralds’ stories about glory and riches awaiting soldiers, some of the refugees driven by revenge and many others, conscripted compulsory, as after losing almost everything they owned when their villages burned, being without useful crafting skills they were too poor to even find an accommodation in the town – and Duke Cloyd, having to thin city defences to field his army, decided to also get rid of soon to be beggars, wanting to maintain the public order.

They would receive some basic combat training along the way. Even if many of them won’t become proficient fighters, they should still be able to hold the line for some time, giving breath for more experienced troops. And those who survive might even become valuable assets to the Dukedom in the future.

As for Ion, his uncles offered to take care of him. They were in close contact after all, as Ion for years spend a large part of his free time in their shop either studying or playing with his cousin Aaron – maybe not playing so often anymore, as his cousin, being almost sixteen now, tended to say that he has better things to do than to take care of children and was often occupied with various tasks concerning the shop or socialising with other merchant’s sons and daughters.

First weeks after the departure of the army were hard for Ion. Even if Gerard promised him before leaving to send letters as often as possible so that he would know that everything is fine, Ion often found himself sobbing at nights in his new, unfamiliar room in the uncles’ house.

To make things worse it was around this time when his dreams started to change.

At first the change was almost intangible – after all, he could hardly ever remember having any dreams at all. However, now he was often waking up with this vague feeling of forgetting something important. Sometimes on the mornings, he could almost grasp memories of himself reading books, covered with symbols he could not remember nor understand, that he knew made sense for him when he dreamed – such mornings were often accompanied by painful headaches.

It was on the one particular day, little longer than six months since his father left with the army when everything has changed.

Waking up well before the dawn, Ion vividly recalled a single fragment of his dream – he was walking through a tunnel when suddenly some kind of a big spider he failed to notice earlier bit him in a hand. The pain he felt during the dream – wasn’t that supposed to never happen? – was so real that checking his hand was the first thing Ion have done after waking up.

After the sudden emergence of the creatures everything become little hazy – probably a poison spreading through his veins – he barely heard screams of his companions and sounds of weapons hitting, focusing his whole attention on forming sigils in his mind and chanting, releasing three fiery rays from his hands towards spiders, incinerating them. Well, two of them as the last one for a moment when his spell almost connected to it became…ethereal? that was the thought Ion had in the dream… probably… yet it hadn’t saved the beast because soon after that it was impaled by a warrior’s sword.

Feeling that memories were becoming blurry again, still lying in the bed, Ion decided to repeat the chant, trying to imagine sigils he has used in a dream, moving his hands in the same way…

In an instant, he felt something flowing in and through his body. It was both alike and completely different to what he experienced when training combat mana manipulation. Before he had more time to ponder on the experience, he saw flames appearing in his hands. And then there was the pain, as fire engulfed his forearms, charring his skin, cushions of the bed he was still lying in also set ablaze.

He heard his own scream and fainted seconds later, seeing his uncle slamming open the door to his room shortly before everything turned black.

In this glorious moment, on the morning of the 25th day of the winter, in the 41st year of King’s Justen I Rikse reign, Ionathan, son of Gerard, casted – and butchered – his first real spell, setting first steps on the path of wizards.

What kind of the destiny awaited him?