PlayerOliver

When you were a kid, you lived with your grandmother in the small town of Silvertree, on the edge of a magical forest. Grandma is a witch, and she taught you how to use your magic to affect the natural world, too. “Magic is a part of you,” she always told you. “Learning how to use it means figuring out who you are.”

Now you’re 19 and on your own. After years of living in the forest while you perfected your witchcraft, you’ve returned to take care of your grandmother’s house and crow-familiar while she’s gone. Figuring out who you are feels more important than ever - not to mention, figuring out what Silvertree is. A lot is just as you remembered: the friendly generous next-door neighbors with a kid just your age, the proud town council, the quaint little shops with quirky punny names, the gentle shadowy forest full of magic.

Stone in the shoe

You look at your grandma, trying to sense what it is that she's feeling. It's clear that she has uncertainties as much as you do—but at the same time, you know that she believes in this plan. She must, or she wouldn't have spent so long working on it, fine-tuning it. And if this is what she thinks is the best thing, the right thing to do—then you trust her.


In the back of your mind, the lie you told stirs again. You haven't forgotten what your grandma said about the possibility of people finding out about your magic. And if she's right—there could be a chance that all of this could lead to exposing the secret of your magic once and for all.


But that's the chance you've decided to take. For better or for worse, you've decided.


Letting out a breath, you give your grandma a clear nod.


"I think we should do this. You obviously think it's a good plan, so—let's do it."


For just a moment, your grandma watches you with wide eyes—but then, once she sees your conviction, she lets her shoulders relax and gives you a nod in return.


"Okay. If that's what you want, Huknock—then that's what we'll do. And in that case then, you'll need to add your own mark on the code. Like I said, it can be anything you like—it just needs to show the computer what it is you want."


Sitting up straighter in her seat, she gestures to the screens and the keyboard in front of you. Once again, you take it all in, not understanding most of what you see but knowing what it's designed to do—and knowing what you have to do to help give it the best chance of succeeding.


But the question is: what should you write? Just typing something at random doesn't seem like enough. You need to be able to concentrate your thoughts, your will, into just a short line of text.


Maybe—you think to yourself—it would help to have something else to concentrate on as well. Not only your magic, but some other aspect of who you are. That way, you can make sure what you type is personal to you—and more than that, if you have any doubts about your own magical ability, then having something else to focus your will might make up for those doubts.


So then—if you had to think of some trait, some innate quality, that defines you as well as your magic—what would it be?


And if you had to sum it up so briefly that a computer could understand it from even just a single word, then how would you describe it?


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