Yarn_Fics

The dream which I had chosen to follow was never meant for me, from a very young age I was told by everyone it was not something I was meant for. When I was a child, people around my smiled indulgently at my dreams when I expressed them, the fleeting fancy of a child is all they saw it as. A small farming town boy had no business exploring the world and trying to become strong so he could legally wander without needing to be bound.
They called me crazy.
Maybe I was.
But I didn’t care about that.
My village wasn’t enough for me to see, there was a world out there that called to me.
So I trained to answer.
I was taught the way to fight with my body and blades by the aged hero who had retired to our amll village. Under his tutelage my instincts were sharpened to a razor edge and my skill flourished.
The town mystic gave me her knowledge and power, letting me learn from the various spells she had gathers. She told me that while power was nothing to discount, the true potential of my magic laid in creativity.
Three year of training under my mentors had me standing on my own two feet, ready to apply to academies that were the first step in my goals.
Maybe I was crazy, but if that was what it took?
I’d gladly be insane.

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