I strolled through the streets casually. If you passed me, at a glance you might think I was normal. Maybe a little odd, but nothing crazy.
I stopped at one of the antique shops, and went inside. My internal senses had brought me here.
I scanned the items. All cheap, old, human junk. Then it caught my eye: a dappled cloak hanging from a hook. It was a pattern of swirling blues, blacks, and purples, with dark greens mixed in. The entire cloak was shimmering slightly. Or at least it was to me. No normal human would be able to see the magic shimmering around the cloak that I saw.
A Telmarian cloak. How on earth had a human gotten their hands on this? Telmarians were ghostly beings who walked the earth, shrouded by cloaks that aided them in traversing great distances in short amounts of time, or allowing them to walk unseen. Those things were impossible to get, and even harder to find. Until today, that is.
I approached the vendor.
“Excuse me. Can you tell me the price of that cloak?” I asked.
The vendor seemed startled. My soft, quiet voice has something otherworldly about it. It was plenty enough to frighten a human vendor.
“O-of course, miss. These things do not have specific prices set on them. It is negotiable.”
I studied the cloak. Negotiable. This man had no idea how valuable this item was. I nearly felt guilty. Then I shook the feeling off. It wouldn’t matter whether he knew or not what it truly was- he wouldn’t be able to use it either way. Then I reached into the bag I always carried with me. I pulled out a wad of cash, mostly in hundreds, and slapped it down on the counter.
“Will that be enough?” I smiled. My smile always seems to have a terrifying effect on humans.
The vendor tentatively touched the money, then ran a scanning device over the bills. He didn’t need to. They were authentic.
“That will be enough miss.” He passed me the cloak.
I didn’t wait. I threw it on.
“You look good in that miss…” remarked the vendor.
Then he stopped, because I was gone. He shook his head, and went back to his work.
I was stunned by the raw power I could feel at my control. The cloak was a truly magical find. I had picked up some reasonably powerful items before, but nothing like this. I couldn’t wait to get back to Simar.
I am not from the world of humans, but rather from Zila, a small city in Simar. In the most basic and elementary sense, I am a human myself, but as a Sivva, can work any and all forms of magic. Not all were born with this gift- that was the first stage of becoming a Sivva. The second step was extensive training in Shivax, the capital of Simar. Unlike the world of humans, Simar is a world full of magic. Occasionally humans develop a knack for magic, and are recruited. Often they are killed before we reached them. The Sivvas are a specialized group of people that are the main enforcers and law keepers, with the greatest amount of power or skill in magic. I had grown to be one of the most successful Sivvas in all of Simar.
I felt the world shifting around me as I cast a basic transportation spell. I took a step, and I was walking down the streets of Zila. It was a relief to be back home, where the magic surrounded me. In the humanlands, any magic always felt choked and out of place.
I smiled as I heard a voice calling my name.
It was Éif. She was a good friend of mine. She had always aspired to become a Sivva, but she did not have the magical talent. Éif was an elf- tall, slim, and blond. She had never bothered treating me with any particularly individual respect- as my position would command- instead choosing to be open and friendly, as she had for years.
“Where did you get that cloak? Oh… my… Is that a… a… Telmarian cloak?”
I nodded, pleased to surprise her.
“Wherever did you get something so valuable as that?”
I laughed. This one was going to come as a surprise to her.
“A human shop. Somehow one of these ended up in the humanlands.”
Éif jumped back, her eyes huge with awe. “Whoa… how… oh never mind. You’re lucky you got this first, before anyone else got it… You know… them…”
I nodded, knowing who she meant. The Hâfléngs. They only had half the magic powers, as in they could only do magic with relics that had pre-stored magic. Basically humans with a small shred of power. For instance, this cloak; the Hâfléngs would do anything to get their hands on an artifact this powerful. They would also love to get their hands on a Sivva, but that would never happen. We were too skilled.
Éif wasn’t a Sivva. She was an elf, possessing different magical skills and properties, as well as being born with an innate ability to use several different types of magic.
“So, are you planning on going back?” She asked me.
I nodded. “There’s more to find. I felt so many magical attractions, but the cloak attracted the most. And besides, I can’t let a Hâfléng get its hands on some magic item.”
“Are you sure that would be safe? There have been rumors about the Hâfléngs lately… the humanlands might be getting too dangerous.”
I scoffed at her words, shaking my head. “Ridiculous. You think I, a trained Sivva, would have any problems with them?”
“I guess not… just… be careful.”
“I always am.”
Éif nodded, and we parted ways.
I continued on my path until I reached a more open part of the city- graced by large manors. I made my way to one of them that was more detached from the rest of civilization- my own. It was a large and grand building, with innumerable windows on all sides. A long, sweeping balcony wrapped around the porch, and a tower rose into the sky, its grand windows opening to the east. The sun tower, which doubled as a study. Even from here, I could see the faint outlines of my forms- beings created from magic, usually as servants and guards- patrolling. With a sigh of relief I entered the building, brushing away one of the forms that approached. It retreated instantly.
I ignored the hundreds of small matters that needed my attention- evaluating of relics, locating and disarming possible curses and negative spells, recharging some of the drained energy in my relics and so much more- and headed straight to the library.
This room was my favorite in all the house. When this building had been constructed, this had been a meeting room for my parents, as well as a practice room for me when I was a child. When my parents retired from the Sivva council, each of them was given a grand complex of their own, and this building was left to me. I instantly began to re-design this room as my library.
I dropped into one of the many chairs that occupied the room, and selected a book I had been reading. I have a great fondness for scholarship, and this was the perfect chance to engage in it. I drew a sheet of notes from a drawer of the only uncovered surface in the room- a desk. I selected a pen from the same surface, and, locating a blank page in my notes, began scrawling in my neat handwriting, occasionally glancing at the book, before continuing.