Prologue - The Quiet Village of Enheim

I was born with magic. It’s been with me for as long as I can remember.

No one across Joni knows where it comes from—or why, for that matter—and that’s fine. We’re only humans living in a vast, complicated world. It isn’t our place to speculate on matters far above us.

Our task is simpler. To live this experience we call life as fully as we can, and to make it memorable.
But… what does that look like for a man with no ambition?

I grew up in the light-hearted village of Enheim. The people here are cheery and loving, content with their responsibilities. Farmhouses and cottages line the bending roads, sprinkled with towers and grain mills that give the countryside its gentle charm. Children rolled in the mud while their parents ignored them—not out of neglect, but because Enheim was the safest place in the entire continent of Joni. Nestled near the eastern coast, our lives were peaceful.

Most see that as a blessing.
I see it as a façade.

My mother is loving—a remarkable woman, the parent of thirteen children. Eight daughters and five sons. Our father died when I was four, a lumber accident. His face has faded from memory; though I know he lived, it feels as if he never had.

I’m the third youngest, and the only child who still lives at home. Mother constantly scolds me—“You need a job,” or “Go talk to that lovely girl next door.”
The way I see it, I’m simply preparing for when my calling finally reaches me.

And that morning, it did.

A crisp dawn warmed Enheim with soft rays. Our straw-roofed, beam-framed home echoed with the chirp of birds and the bustle of villagers outside. Breakfast was the usual: toast and cheesy bacon strips, a beloved Enheimian tradition. Mother listed my chores with a weary sigh—her eyes said she hadn’t slept well.

My list included lawn-cutting, a bit of market browsing, and fetching the local newspaper. A calm day.

With my staff in hand and a robe that dragged behind me like a wedding veil, I stepped out to begin.

The front lawn had grown to my knees. Mother hated it; I found it charming. But her word wins. With a flick of my staff, a sharp gust tore through every blade of grass, trimming it perfectly.

Not really a chore for a mage like me—but I liked to act like it was.

I opened the cottage gate with another casual motion and strolled down the dirt road. Enheim’s streets were simple, dotted with rocks that stuck out like stubborn teeth. Compared to nearby cities, it was humble—normal.

Neighbors waved in their morning cheerfulness. I waved back. Mother didn’t raise an animal.

Rolling fields gave way to the marketplace, where stalls were draped with bright colors trying desperately to outshine one another—yet ironically making the dull ones stand out more. I wandered, pretending to search for spices Mother wanted while actually admiring pottery.

Eventually I gathered a few interesting blends she’d never tried and made my way toward the newspaper stand. It sat in the center of the walkway, greeting every passerby. I dropped two Joni coins into the basket, hesitated, then added a third—feeling generous today.

On the way home, I read the paper headline to headline. Unusual stories filled the pages—such as a dog that could apparently speak fluent English. Odd.

I flipped through page after page, nearly bumping into people as I walked. The sweet scent of allberries drifted through the air. Finally, I reached the back page.

There, printed in the top-left corner, was an advertisement—an invitation, actually—to a mage’s tournament in Aetheria. The capital city of Joni. The most prosperous city on the continent.

A slight problem.

Aetheria was deep in the western reaches of Joni. Enheim was in the far east. The travel alone was estimated at twenty-two months, seven days, eight hours and forty-two minutes.

I didn’t bother counting seconds. That would’ve been overkill.

But none of that mattered. Because this invitation…
this chance…
shifted something inside me.

For the first time in years, I felt a spark. A reason to travel, to grow, to chase a calling I barely understood. The Council of Royal Sorcerers resided in Aetheria—and I had long dreamed of proving myself to them.

Now, at last, I had a goal. A true one. Something to pave my path forward and fill the void I’d been ignoring.

I would go westbound.
A journey to Aetheria.