WIELDER MAGIC FANTASY
Caoimhe’s tall frame perched like a lone tree on the hilltop, her unruly chestnut hair a rustling mirror of the tangled wilderness spread out below. To a distant onlooker, the young woman’s plain attire and lack of company would suggest her to be a Healer or even the local Witch, but Caoimhe was neither of these, and had the onlooker dared to venture closer, they would have instead recognised the purple flickering glint behind her pearl grey eyes. It was a glint that symbolised abilities far beyond any of Wildemaple’s resident magical folk. A rare but powerful breed matched in strength only by the perilous unpredictability of the sorcery with which they toyed. Bearers of a mighty and unbridled magic handed down through a bloodline almost as ancient as time itself. Caoimhe was a Wielder. And a particularly good one too. But Caoimhe was one of the last Wielders, and although her powers were strong, she had never been formally taught. Her father, also a Wielder, had died when she was a baby and she had never met any others. Her mother had raised her well, and she’d honed her strengths alone, but she wanted to achieve something greater. As much as she loved this tree and her quiet life, she wanted an adventure. But where else could she go? She had never been further than the forest surrounding her little village. Besides, it would break her mother’s heart if she left. But she knew she had to. One day her mother would understand; she was destined for something greater. It had been two weeks since Caoimhe had made the decision to leave. Initially, even the chirping of birds had seemed magical, but now it began to dawn on her that maybe she had made a mistake in leaving her life behind. She felt lost and guilty for not listening to her mother and giving up her powers when she could. Just then the dial in her pocket began beeping, bringing her back to the present. Clutching the dial somehow helped regain focus. She had never met her father, nor heard much about home except for the rare occasions when mother would sing praises of him. The dial was the only remembrance left of her dear old man, and her gut told her that this would help her in seeking answers and guide her through this journey. Although the first thing to find out is why did it beep so much…