Scita

A Spirit on Fire; Or, The Boy Swathed in a Coat of Scars; Or, "An 'Amazing' Mage!"; Or, One Determined Half-Kurit

"From the beginning, huh?... Well, alright I guess. Ya owe me a pint at the Shipwreck later though, kid."

“The trade district of Luxefor, that’s where this story begins. Rocky cobblestone streets, bright painted signs hanging off the windows of shops, beckoning passersby to stop in and browse the artesian-crafted wares sitting on the shelves inside. Each of them handmade. You can get pretty much anything there, ‘long as you have the coin for it. It’s the “middle class” of the city. Loads better than the outer district, that place’s…. not too different from Boreus.

And- it just so happens in this trade district lived a boy named Scita. Scita Obrove. Good kid. He was born to a Kurit mother and a Human father in a cozy little tailor shop. The Kurit are a subrace of beastpeople, in case you live under a fuckin’ rock. They’ve got ears and tails just like the snow-lions in the frozen wastes, crafty people. Limber in a fight. Anyway, Scita was born there, half Kurit, not too much of a raw deal if ya ask me.

As a boy, Scita spent his time toiling away, learning the art of tailory from good ol’ ma. The kid wasn’t that simple, though. Nothing ever is. He admired her, Mythra, the Inferno; Headmaster of the Royal Luxefor Academy of Magic. Admired is……probably not cutting the kid’s feelings a lotta justice. He Idolized her. He wanted to be like Mythra more than most people wanted to live. He wanted to be an amazing Mage.

And so he practiced magic.

On his own, in his spare time, during breaks at his parent’s shop, he practiced. No formal training plus magic…you can guess how that’d go right? He got cut, over and over again, small gashes and slits peppered his skin as he pushed that tiny body to its limit. And then some. After a while, it finally happened. First circle magic. Kid lit a lantern, a classic test. He wasn’t consistent, wasn’t polished, wasn’t pretty, but he did it. He read up on everything there was to know about the magical arts. Anything he could get those little mitts on. Scita was hungry for knowledge. Kid was hungry for his dream, no sacrifice was too great.

After years of practice, of watching the sky-blue flames flicker alongside the Academy walls that loom over the city, Scita applied to the Academy at fifteen years old. Lemme tell ya something, personal experience, that entrance exam’s no god damn joke. ‘Specially since that stiff ball a’ fuzz runs the place now. Well… the kid’s hard work paid off, he aced the written portion of the exam, no sweat. That’s what happens when you really want something.

Then came the practical portion.

Students had ‘ta demonstrate they could perform first circle magic, any type, didn’t matter what. No one really knows why, maybe the nerves, maybe his passion, but Scita didn’t do that. He failed his spellcast. But here’s the thing, y’know how circles appear under your feet when you cast a spell? I’m guessin’ you know that. But anyway, even though he failed the case, the kid generated three circles before failing the spell. Was the first time in history anyone’d ever seen an untrained person generate enough power to potentially cast a circle three spell right off the bat. Neat stuff, right? But with that, came the repercussions of failing a circle three spell. Gigantic tear right down the middle of Scita’s chest. Lots of blood. Kid almost died that day. Probably would’ve had he not been where he was.

So Mythra, diligent, snooty little thing she is, was watching the whole thing. She saw the potential, the drive, and almost felt the call of the kid’s soul for his dream. She passed him. Not only that, she took him in as her one-and-only apprentice. Imagine that. Musta’ been unreal for him. So, there he was, his place in the academy that always felt like it was towering above everyone, and being taught by the living legend herself. Between you and me, the two a' them together? They're really, really close. Yeah, it's a mentor-student kinda deal, but seeing them together? It's like lookin' at a mother with her son. Maybe it's that, maybe he's the son she never had.

And if ya think that’s crazy, you’ve got no idea about what happens next… “

The Hither and Thither Expanded; Or, Drawing Back the Curtain!

The mage apprentice Scita Obrove is the alternate universe analogue of the Wizard Daniel Obrove. He's the Obrove if Obrove were a half-kurit boy born in the trade district of the Kingdom of Luxefor. Or rather, if Obrove was also Celie.

There are more Celiebroves to come and so we kindly ask that you...

STAY TUNED!

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Quick Stats:

Age: 18 Years Old (As Mythra's apprentice in his third year of 5 total years of academy, he's 15 though if you're talking about pre-academy Scita)

Gender: Male

Race: Half-Kurit

Abilities: All magic up to and including second circle magic (at least at this point in time), his specialty is elemental enchantment magic. For example, enchanting an article of clothing with a minor wind blessing for speed, or a doctor's tool with a fire blessing to cauterize wounds.

Height: 5 feet 6 inches

Relationships(*Denotes a canon relationship):

An_IRL_Cat Alt~