A quiet sound was playing. Cara watched. This had all the hallmarks of a real story from Earth. A gentle song, without vocals, somehow managing to be uplifting and sad. The half-Elf was the narrator. Sometimes he walked through the scenes playing on the orbs, other times playing the omniscient narrator.
His spells conjured each scene real to life, though, with a degree of accuracy that made itβ¦too real. Put movies to shame because it had tiny details from memory that were different from dramatic recreations, or too-polished sets and actors. He was born to, as his name indicates, a family of [Chandlers]. A humble family, who made their living in the Kingdom of Silvaria.
A Kingdom of Terandria which lives on only in memory. Even the land that used to hold the kingdom is broken and desolate. It lies hereβbetween Pheislant and Gaiil-Drome, a coastal kingdom, southern, small, but dignified.
A map of Terandria appeared on screen, and the view zoomed down, revealing that the map was actually the continent from afar. A narrow, vertical nation became expansive, and kept zooming, revealing a landscape bordered by the coast, reaching up to the mountains and bordering the larger forest nation of Gaiil-Drome and Pheislant, dizzyingly zooming in until it reached a northern city, further down, towards a boy helping to carefully put candles in a wooden box.
Wax candles. The young boy rose, manfully lifting the box and placing it with a stack. He was one of three children, an older sister and a younger brother. Images appeared, showing a father and mother working to render candles out of tallow, keeping back from the bubbling pot, the boy playing with girl and boy. What I do know is that as a boy, he was so outstanding with magical potential that it manifested even before training.
