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      A young boy sits alone in the rainy streets of a small town along the outskirts of the laguz kingdom of Gallia. His face reflects the terrible state he finds himself in. Tired, hungry and thoroughly cold inside and out, Soren held under disdain for the world around him and the people of this village who shun him just because of what he is. As he tucks his head into his crossed arms and folded legs, he can no longer tell the difference between the rain on his face, and the tears rolling down his cheeks. A single sound suddenly cuts through the rain. “Hold on, what’s that over there?” With that noise the rain stops falling. No, that's not right. Soren weakly looks up, there stands a large broad man with brown hair. His frame completely blocking out the clouds overhead as he looks down at the boy who could be no older than six. What was once a scrunched face, trying to figure out what it was looking at, immediately melts into the smile of a round, soft, bulbous nosed face. “Well now! Hey there little friend, whatcha you doin’ all out ‘ere in the rain. Might catch a death of cold if you don’t go running home soon.” Soren’s eyes just stare blankly at the man. Concern begins to show in the man’s brown eyes, but his smile never wavers. “You do have a home to go back to, don't ya?” At this Soren shake’s his head. Thinking back on it, he thinks nowhere he has ever been could be considered home. The large man lets out a small sigh before shaking his head slowly. “Well now that just won’t do, just won’t do at all I tell ya. C’mon let’s getcha outta the rain” The man takes off his jacket and neals down to pick up Soren. The poor child shies away, never having known kindness before. The man is careful though, with all the deftness of a man who is already a father. Before long the boy is wrapped up snuggly in a sturdy warm jacket and is carried back to the caravan to start the journey to his new home.

     As the wagon rolls down the road, Soren stares past everything he sees, his gaze distant and uninterested in the world around him. The rain had since stopped but the feeling of cold still lingered throughout his body. What awaited him with this strange man? This man who now trudged through mud, soaking wet from the rain still held the biggest smile Soren had ever seen. The man must have noticed Soren’s stare as he turned to address him with a nod of his head. “Well now, glad to see yer no longer shaken, glad my coat was able to keep ya warm” Somehow the man's already enormous smile got wider. “Names Brom or poppa if ur my little girl!” He then turned that bright smile towards Soren, almost causing the boy to flinch. “So what do they call ya son?” Son, a word Soren had never really been called before, and yet from this man it came out with more warmth than an afternoon hearth. It caught him off guard so much that even if he could speak he would have stammered. Brom began to scratch his head quizzically. “You do have a name right?” This question snapped Soren out of his stupor and quickly he began to nod his head. He then began to try and mouth each individual letter of his own name “Ssss- so soooooo oooooor. Sooorn, en,ennnnnnnn, Sooooorennnnnnn. Sooorennn….Soren” The boy would give a small nod at the sound of his own name, heard many a time before but never in his own tongue. Brom just gave him another big smile and a nod before looking ahead. “Soren then? Good name for a youngin like yurself.” Not long after their stomachs began to grumble and the caravan stopped to rest for the evening. As Brom tethered his ox to a nearby tree and made small talk with the merchants he was traveling with, Soren sat by the fire and just stared blankly at it. It wasn’t until a small bowl of grain porridge with a bit of dried fruit was given to him, did he snap back out of his stupor. “Here, this should melt away any of the remaining cold from the rain earlier” The porridge had no flavor and was too soggy, the fruit far too tough for someone of his age to chew on effectively. It was the best food Soren had had in months. The speed at which he ate was almost alarming. Between mouthfuls Brom offered Soren some water from a waterskin which the boy drank from equally as eagerly. At no point during the meal did Brom attempt to strike up conversation with the boy he now found in his care. He figured that Soren would share things when he was good and ready. Instead the two just sat by the fire, enjoying its warmth and the star filled sky above. When it came time for bed Brom unrolled the bedroll for Soren and insisted that the night sky was a good enough blanket for someone of his size. As Soren layed there, wrapped in a never previously felt warmth, he began to silently cry.

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      The two traveled with the caravan for a little more than a week. In that time Soren had begun to vocalize things more, the occasional ‘yes’, ‘No’, and ‘thanks’ could be heard. Meanwhile Brom had explained that he had only come with the merchant’s to sell his goods in Gallia due to a better price for it. His next kid would be here soon and the extra money would help ease his wifes burdens. The two would arrive at the village of Ohma, a quiet town in the Crimea countryside. As far as towns went, Ohma was by no means a large town, neither a major trade hub or near any strategic positions. It did have one thing going for it, the high abundance of easily farmable land spreading out in nearly all directions. This led to people settling in the area and a decent sized farming community growing. Everything from vast quantities of grain and some of the best cattle in Crimea were raised here. Brom would wave goodbye and thanks to the merchants and set out for his home near the outskirts of town. A modest home with plenty of room for grazing livestock and a freshly harvested field laid out before the duo. As they got closer the front door of the house opened up and out ran an excited nine year old girl towing behind her an equally excited four year old. “Poppa’s back, poppa’s back!” They yelled in unison. At that sound a broad woman stepped into the doorframe. Brom’s wife stood nearly as tall as he did, with strong features but a soft face and a small button nose and a noticeable bump from her stomach. Her hair was a sandy color and pulled into a large messy bun with only the occasional strand falling in front of her face. As the girls approached Brom scooped both of them up in one arm as he still guided the ox back to the barn with his free hand. “Were you youngin’s good for momma while poppa was gone?” He said with mirth in his voice and a smile on his face. It was at this point that the girls saw Soren sitting in the back of the cart. “Someone I met on my trip, i’ll tell y’all about it over dinner, now go get ready I can smell dinner from here. The girls would hop down out of their father’s grip and go running inside right past their mother. She would follow her husband to the barn to help get the oxen back in and to also steal a quick kiss on the cheek before speaking in a soft whisper. “Did one of the village kids hop in your cart on the way home dearest?” Brom would finish shutting the barn door before gently grabbing his wife's hand and looking down, a bit bashful and in an equally soft tone he explained “Na Mary listen, we’s was passing through one of the border towns and he was just there in the rain all alone. No home, no family, no nothin’. I just couldn’t leave him all alone, you see how the boy looks, probably wouldn’t have lasted much longer.” Brom shuffled his feet a bit. “I am sorry to spring this on ya so suddenly” Brom found himself suddenly being poked in the nose as Mary bent over and turned her head to look her husband in the eye and smiled. “Now whatcha lookin all down for ya big silly? That big ol’ heart of yurs is why I call you my husband.” A relieved smile crossed Brom’s face as he responded “I know’s Mary but I wasn’t to sure wit the baby on the way and -” She silenced him with another boop to the nose and a wiggle of her finger. “So long as the money from your trip was worthwhile we’ll be fine Brom” Brom pulled out a small coin purse out of his pocket and passed it over to her. “The merchants were right, Gallia musta had a rough harvest this year cause they were paying good for the grain” With that he turned towards the cart and offered his hand to Soren who had merely been staring out into the distant rolling hills. As he climbed out of the cart, hand firmly holding Brom’s, Mary gently knelt down to greet the boy. “And what do I call a fine young man such as yourself?” She asked with a near identical smile as her husband as she held out her hand. Soren stared at the hand blankly before hesitantly grabbing it and shaking it with a curt “Soren” following the gesture. “Well Soren-” Mary said as she stood back up and stretched her back a bit. “Welcome to the family, make yourself at home!” 

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   A few days had passed since Soren had begun to live with this family of farmers. They had given the boy a small room that they had originally setup as a nursery for their upcoming child. The room itself was a bit small and cramped but it was well guarded from the outside cold and gave the boy much needed privacy. On a nice crisp clear day Mary took him with her to the market while Brom kept an eye on the kids and prepped firewood for the coming day. She had insisted on getting the boy some proper fitting clothes instead of the rags he came with or trying to make one of her daughters' shirts fit him better. As Mary haggled Soren began to wander, though he always remained within line of sight of Mary fearing she would leave without him if he did. It was during this wandering that he happened to stumble upon a seller of curiosities. Of all the things the merchant was offering, only one thing caught his eye, an old worn leather bound tome with symbols incomprehensible to most. Soren had spent the last 2 years of his life doing nothing but reading, translating and transcribing such tomes, he was scarily good at it, it turned out. The merchant had noticed the boy’s stare and reached down and gave the boy the tome. “No running of with it now ya’hear?” The spindly man scratched at his beard before turning to speak with a customer. Soren sat with the book, back to the stall, and began to go through it. It wasn’t particularly impressive material compared to what Soren had studied in the past but just something about reading the material brought a sense of comfort to the boy.

     Time passed and eventually Mary came over with the newly purchased clothes. “Watcha got there son?” She leaned as best as she could to get a good look and was surprised by the lack of words on the page. “Guess the boy just likes how the squiggly lines look” She said to the merchant as she scratched her head. Soren perked up at that statement and matter of factly stated “No. Reading.” The two adults immediately looked down at the kid before Mary asked “You can read?” The boy nodded before pointing at a sign at the building across the street and exclaiming “Bakery, B-A-K-E-R-Y, bakery” Both were stunned at this revelation. “But that book’s gibberish” Said the merchant stammering a bit. Soren would shake his head and open his palm. “No, magic” Soren would begin to recite words from the book and a small whirlwind would begin to form in his hand. Now, magic wasn’t necessarily rare, Mary knew that people could do these things, but she had never seen magic done with her own eyes before. She nearly dropped the clothes she was carrying out of surprise. Soren would dispel the wind and close the book. He would stand and dust himself off before holding the book high above his head. “Please?” the boy would ask. Mary would look towards the merchant. “For that little display, i’ll cut you a deal”

   Soren held Mary by one hand and the book firmly under his other arm as the two walked home. While the book wasn’t exceptional by any means, it still had power and that gave Soren an idea. He would call upon his previous studies and begin to prepare himself for the next time he was abandoned. He will learn whatever skills he needed to to survive from these farmers so that he wouldn’t be helpless again. It would only be a matter of time till they figured out what he was and wanted nothing to do with him because of it. Part of him felt a slight pang of regret at this thought but it was completely overshadowed by the determination he felt surge within him. After getting home and enjoying the meal Brom had prepared Soren went to his room and began to lay out his plan. Come tomorrow, he would begin his preparations to never be that cold vulnerable child ever again.

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“Did you know he could read?” The evening had passed without much event. Soren retreated to his room as soon as dinner had finished and Mary and Brom had laid the girls down for bed. Mary now sat at the table, wiping it down as Brom tended to the dishes. “Soren? He can read?” Brom pondered as he looked over his shoulder back at her. “Yeah, showed off a bit while at the market today, and not just normal words either, but them magic ones to, gave ol’ Mason a right spook” Mary's hands flipped and flowed around as she spoke. “Ya shoulda seen it Brom, boy had the very winds under his control” Brom finished the dishes and then sat down across from Mary a contemplative look now across his face. “But now then why was he all alone in that village then? That place was bit of a ways away from anywhere important I reckon.” Mary nodded her head along trying to work through the mystery along with Brom “Maybe his family taught him? You did ask around the village about him right?” Brom looked a bit taken aback by the question. “Well of course I did Mary, they said they didn't know any other humans around ‘cept a old man who lived a ways off and when we checked there the place was empty” A flash of insight would cross Mary's face at that moment “What if that was the boy's grandfather? Maybe the boy's parents passed and he ended up taking care of him. And if that be the case then the poor kid ain't got no relatives then, goddess knows I couldn't leave my niece's and nephew's out in the cold.” Brom began to nod his head in agreement. “All the better I picked him up then. Woulda been a damn shame for a boy as talented as him to end up without a home.” Mary reached out and gently grabbed Brom’s hand and smiled warmly. “And a wonderful home it will be” With that the two shared a kiss and retired for the night.

The next day Soren would begin to help around the farm, tending cattle and hens, preparing food, cleaning around the home and various other things. In the afternoon he would go through his tome and recall his previous studies. He would practice his magic in secret, testing his capabilities out on leftover scraps of wood he’d find around the farm. Brom and Mary were not only surprised by this, but also by his determination to do these things. They explained to him that he’s free to go play with the girls or go exploring around nearby, since he’s just a young boy. Soren would merely shake his head and focus on the task at hand. Since they were unable to convince him to do otherwise, the parents made sure to teach him the proper techniques and terms for what he was doing. Best of all they were patient and very understanding whenever he made a mistake. Soren found out very quickly that tending to the animals was by far his most difficult task. Animals naturally felt unsettled around him due to his nature. This led to Brom on more than one occasion having to calm the family dairy cow down and being quite puzzled as to why she was “Actin all shaken like”around Soren. Soren would offer no explanation and Brom would just shrug his shoulders at the behavior. Over the weeks Soren would pick up the bare essentials of cooking skills, helping with very simple breads and porridges. Where he excelled was the cleaning though. After a few days of difficulty with the broom and getting annoyed at the constant need to move the step stool to get higher to reach areas, he began to apply his other skills to the problem. He began to use wind magic to blow away all matters of dust and crumbs about the house. His level of control was already so prodigious at such a young age that he could use the air to sweep around objects without the fear of knocking them over. Out of reach shelves were never an issue and fallen leaves on the ground could be corralled into a pile no problem. Brom and Mary were impressed by his capabilities and praised his ingenuity. Soren would take a small amount of pride in this and would offer to dry the clothes when he saw Brom hanging them up to dry one day. Brom would ponder a moment before giving him the go ahead. Soren would cast his spell and the shirts would promptly fly off the line and halfway down the road. Soren promptly hid his face in embarrassment while Brom just let out a hardy laugh and ran after the shirt. Soren would attempt again next time laundry was done and far less shirts flew down the road. This would continue for weeks until one day Brom would run off to town to fetch the town healer.

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     The next few weeks were a whirlwind of activity around the home. Soren was unsure how to feel about what was going on. Brom began to do more around the home while his eldest daughter Sherry began preparing things like blankets, towels, and water buckets and often stayed by her mothers side. The town healer began to be a regular sight around the home, visiting usual just before supper call. While by no means exceptional, the healer was good enough at magic to wield the most basic of staves. This initially interested Soren greatly as a chance to speak to potentially a like minded individual. Sadly that interest fell off hard as Soren quickly realized that the healer didn’t fully comprehend what power they were wielding, nor a real drive to further their abilities. With that disappointment, Soren went back to focusing on his own studies and assisting where he could. 

     Often he would find himself watching Brom’s second oldest daughter Elen. Energetic and rambunctious, Soren found it easiest to distract her with the occasional magical russell of leaves or flying rock. This proved a great help to Brom as he was able to put a majority of his effort on maintaining the farm.

     Then one evening the baby came. A harrowing day for all involved the couple proudly welcomed their third daughter into their lives with the simple name, Meg. Days later Mary would rise out of bed for the first time in what felt like months and call all of them to the room to introduce Meg to them. “Those two wonderful lil’ angel’s are ur big sisters.” Mary motioned Sherry to come closer before gently handing the newborn to her oldest, who looked on the verge of tears, all while Elen looked on in wonder. “And this kind boy over ‘ere is ur brother.” Soren looked at the baby mostly with disinterest. That is until the baby opened her little eyes, peered right at him, and stretched out a little hand towards him. Soren felt his ears burn up near immediately for some reason and began to turn away. A light chuckle could be heard from Brom in the doorway before he interjected. “Alright everyone, pass Meg back to ur momma and let's get ready to eat.” A small frown would cross Sherry’s lips as Mary took little baby Meg back and the family would sit down for dinner for the first time with their newest member.

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         With the birth of their fourth and more than likely final child, the farm house would be as lively as ever in the years to come. Little Meg would be set up in a crib in the parents room for her to be laid in whenever not being held in her mothers sling or her eldest sister's arms. Mary would be back on her feet in mere days tending to the animals and her usual trips to the market. Brom would try to fuss over her but was promptly overruled. “Hun’ if I sit around any longer my legs are gonna get all scrawny like.” She’d exaggerate with his only reply being a sigh and a small smile. 

         Soren would continue to study the old worn out tome until he knew it nearly front to back. It did little to advance his knowledge beyond what he had already known but it kept him well practiced with the skills he did have. He would instead focus on how to apply them where he could. The first time he had seen a harvest he had been drying the laundry with his craft. He watched Brom and Mary quizzically as the duo worked together to harvest the field of wheat. They would often take turns, one using the sickle to cut the crop while the other would follow behind, tying them up into bundles and setting them upright. This would go on for hours with them trading the sickle throughout the time. Occasional fits of laughter could be heard from the two as they worked and Sherry would occasionally join her parents out in the field whenever she finished her chores before her sister Elen did. When Soren had asked why they left the bundles in the fields, Brom happily explained the need for the grain to dry and how the harvest worked to the inquisitive young mind. Seeing this interest, the parents would offer to allow Soren to attempt harvesting some grain himself, only for him to find the entire ordeal a bit embarrassing due to not fully understanding the mechanics and failing to cut through his small child sized handful of wheat. It didn’t help that Sherry would boldly and proudly proceed to show her own skill in the field, with a beaming smile on her face the entire time she did so. After lording over Soren for a bit, she did offer her little brother some pointers and a method for hand harvesting the wheat. A few more failed attempts later, Soren would find himself harvesting wheat. He wasn’t particularly good at it but the methodical nature of the task felt soothing to him. Once enough was gathered, Mary came over and showed him how to bundle it together and set it upright for drying. He then would give her a firm nod and start to head back to the house. Just before he went inside he heard the sound of Meg in a basket on the porch. Sherry was watching her at the time while her parents worked. For just the briefest moment he looked at the basket. Barely able to reach above the lip of the basket, a tiny little hand reached up towards him. Not a single thing was said as he promptly went inside, grabbed his tome and a stool, plopped himself next to the basket and began to study. Occasionally he would exercise a bit of his magic much to the delight of his sisters.

         This would be roughly what life would be like for the young boy in the coming years. Learning whatever skills he thought useful to himself. Everything from the basics of grain harvesting and preparation, to how to haggle for better prices on what he needed. He wanted to be prepared for the inevitable. They would tire of him eventually. The animals certainly still didn’t like him and eventually these simple farm folk would surely eventually feel the same way. Why wouldn't they, he was just a random cursed boy found in the streets who didn’t even know his own birthday let alone his true parents. He rarely spoke unless directly addressed and even then he’d tend to just gesture a response. And yet Brom and Mary never showed any weariness with him. This made Soren even more unsure and worried for when the eventually time to come. How could he know if they never showed the signs? Would it be sudden, leaving him no time to prepare? Such thoughts would slowly begin to plague him. He would begin to keep a small bag now continuously packed with things like leftover grain and supplies. Even the occasional coin found in the streets of town. He did what he could to guard himself from a future he feared to come. From the cold that would tear away this small warmth in his life. He did this for almost 4 years.

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         The sun rose on a clear crisp day on the farm. With the harvesting of the grain already being done and Mary having already haggled for a fair share of coin from the merchants, Soren found his day to be rather free. He attempted to practice his magic out in a clearing by the house but sadly the book he had been using had essentially fallen to tatters, most of its power spent. He tried to work on practicing by using either hand drawn runes and spells or reciting the spells verbatim from memory with only sporadic success. On the rare occasion that winds were conjured, a sound of applause would be heard from onlookers. Elen didn’t always watch but was always blown away when did. Meg though, Meg was always around. Her wonderment never seemed to end and a childish insistence to see more tended to irk the boy some days. Today wasn’t one of those days though, practice had been going well for the day, so her calls for more were readily answered. 

         After several hours Soren would take a brief break for a small snack and to catch his breath. As he looked out over the expanse of farmland, he took it in. The vastness of even empty fields was quite something. It was only a couple of tugs on his shorts that tore him away from this. He looked down to see a smiling Meg with a bit of mud on the middle of her forehead. “Look, look! I’m you!” She then puffed out her cheeks and pouted. Soren’s eyes and features hardened. He quickly turned away and through gritted teeth growled out “No one should be me.” before storming off.

         Soren’s mind raged as he walked, refusing to slow down or even acknowledge the calling out behind him. What could she possibly know of what being him was like? The cold bitterness of being abandoned painted his thoughts. Not enough for anyone around him. Curse his parents for having him and then curse them again for apparently not being what they expected. Curse that old man who only saw a potential tool in him and curse anyone who’d dare try to use him for their own means.  He should just go before things get worse. He was certain Meg was telling Brom and Mary about him storming away. They’d probably grow suspicious and begin asking questions. Questions he didn’t want to answer at the moment. He learned plenty from them already and was fairly certain he could do fine enough on his own. It had been years since he was that meek scrawny child.

         The house was alight with a warm glow, he had gone off wandering far longer than he thought he did. He hoped that no one would be around as that would make leaving that much easier, but he would have no such luck. Mary was preparing dinner for the night while Brom was sitting at the table with Meg on his knee, no doubt telling him what had happened earlier. Soren tried not to look at them as he went to his room but Brom had seen the boy come in and before he could get away he called out to him. “Son! Perfect timin’ Mary and I was hopin’ to catch you before dinner! Sit for a spell.” Without looking at the man Soren did what he was told, and braced himself for the worse. “Oh Brom, you make it sound like we're about to lecture the poor boy, you ain’t in trouble sweety, so no need to look so down” Mary had stepped away from the stew she had been cooking and sat down across from Brom. Soren had looked up slightly at the assurance of not being in trouble but was still unwilling to look at either of the adults directly. He stared patiently at the grooves in the wood of the table, waiting for them to continue. Instead a book was slid in front of him. Not just a book, no, this was tome. The leather was a dark forest green, the embroidered symbol for ‘winds’ was a slate gray and the book looked as new as one could find. Soren looked up sharply from the tome, only to see beaming smiles on the two adults' faces. “Happy birthday!” They said in unison. “We saw how flimsy that old book of ur’s was gettin and decided with ur birthday coming up we could try to get our hand on something special!” Soren had reached out a hand to the tome and ran his fingers along the spine before breaking out into tears.

         “Why do you care so much?!” He blurted out to their surprise. “You don’t know how much this hurts! How much all of this hurts to live with!” The young boy began to clutch his chest, tears a rolling torrent on his face. “Soren-” Brom had begun to reach out before his son cut him off. “Day after day, week after week I fear it’ll be the last! That one day you’ll see me for what I am and discard me like the rest. That this warmth will eventually go away! And I hate it! I hate this feeling! I hate being me and I hate ever having been-” Without warning the boy had been embraced by his parents and sisters. Hearing the yelling Elen and Sherry had walked in on the scene and had immediately joined the hug. The crying turned to outright sobbing as Soren desperately held onto his parents. “You don’t even know what I am.” He whispered out. “And we don’t need to, ur our precious little boy. One of the many lights in our life” Mary assured the boy by tightening the hug. “But I'm a Branded abomination, just some half breed that nobody wants.” At that Brom looked down at his son. “Now whose out here putting brands on children? By Ashera I’ll give em a good wallop!” Soren would shake his head before touching the spot on his forehead. “Not like that. Branded are the child of a laguz and a beorc and are marked to signify their cursed blood. A crime against the goddess herself.” His face twisted in anguish, and yet his spirit felt relief. Regardless of their reaction, they at least knew the truth. “It isn’t a crime to live, son.” Everyone had begun to pull away to give Soren some space, as Brom took a knee by the boy. “You arn’t a curse on nobody. And even if that whole world says so, you’ll never be a curse to us” He gave him the warmest kindest smile the boy had ever seen. It reminded him of that first day 4 years ago of being found on the side of the road. Of every little kindness shown to him. He embraced the man in a very sudden hug. “Thank you papa” he whimpered out with a cry, followed by a gentle patting of his back. He finally felt like he had come home.

         After what felt like hours Soren pulled away from his father and began to wipe his face off before immediately being dog piled by his sisters. Meg began to profusely apologize for earlier in the day. Soren would just russel her hair a bit and respond “How could you have known better if I never told ya” The four siblings would only be pried apart at the call for dinner. Afterwards Soren would ask his parents if he could have a hat like theirs. Come the next day Soren could be seen in a nearby clearing, fresh tome in hand, hat covering his brand, all while beginning to teach his little sister the basics of magic. He was no longer the Branded abomination that nobody loved, but instead just a simple country boy by the name of Soren.