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Daranth is a country of magic, but it is strictly controlled. To have magic is considered a blessing by those who do not have it and a curse by those who do. In Daranth all children are tested at birth for any magical potential; if they are found to have any what-so-ever, they are sent to one of a wealthy class called “Hosts” to be trained to use and control their magic. Though all people without magic are told that to be thus treated is an honor, the reality is that magicians are treated more like slaves that privileged guests.

The magicians, once trained, are used however their Host deems fitting. The most public uses are selling them out for various labors and fighting in the Stadium. The labors range from construction to hauling large objects, depending on the skills and strength of the magician. The fights are scarcely regulated and can range from a purely magical tests of will to a full on fight to the death. In order to schedule a fight one Host must challenge another and it must be accepted. Once this is done a currier is sent to find out what dates are open for a bout. Then all that is left is for the Hosts to agree upon the rules. The reason for a challenge can be anything: from a bout to decide political disputes; to advanced training for a peculiarly Skilled magician; to monetary reasons, as Stadium fights are always packed with the wealthy Houses, who pay well for their seating.


This is an overview of the country. The plot is still in the works, but I want it to be original(-ish). So if anyone wants to, tell me what you think will happen just by this bit right here. If anyone gets it right I'm going to change it.

Thanks Taibhrigh, I'll probably post little bits of the story as I go, or as they come to me randomly. It is going to follow one of them but that's as close as you got.

Wow, it's been a while... and i completely blanked with everything this week, or two...But I have something, so here it is.

The Beginning:

The goodwife held the baby, my baby, up before me. It was bawling and I still had tears in my eyes from the pain of berthing, but it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. As I held my arms out to take her she was intercepted by the representative from the King’s Magic Control Office. The person was clothed in a gray suit and hood that covered any details. He, because I could only associate this figure with a masculine presence, held up a small red gem to my newborn, nothing happened. I sighed with relief and stretched out my arms for the child, but then a small pink glow came from that hateful, treacherous gem. And just like that I was never going to see my baby, my girl, my Emilia, again.
That’s how my story began, not that I could verify it. My first memories are of hard floors and dust, a “Guest Room” they called it. Not that the accommodations were that bad but there was something about the bed that I couldn’t stand, so I found my way to the stone floors. The rooms were cleaned everyday, but it was almost impossible to not bring in a stone’s weight of sand with you after practice. Hard floors and dust, and those were the good times.


First revision, tell me what you think it needs.

It does kinda switch to the kid, because the mom never saw her again. But i see what you mean and i will probably rework it.

I do still look at this ,i swear, i just don't post sometimes if i'm in a hurry.