A sudden crash. A thud. I felt my body ragdoll off a truck bumper, the car appearing from nowhere around a blind corner. I had never imagined that this would be my last walk home from my part-time job. That this would be my final moment on this Earth. The truck’s lights dimmed, and I was swallowed by a welcoming darkness. When I awoke, I floated within an expansive mist of nearly blinding light. Some force—or perhaps some being—cradled me in its arms, in its warmth. It was all-encompassing in its omnipotence. "Thou, who hast been wrenched from this mortal coil so young, bereft of seasoned experience, I behold thy spirit as pure and untainted, and deem this fate most unworthy of such a woeful end. I mourn thee, my child. Therefore, I shall claim thy spirit for a new realm. In that world shalt thou know a long life, replete with joys and trials, with hope and sorrow alike. Yet it shall be thy life alone to govern. Thy choices shall lead thee down paths even I cannot foretell. I grant unto thee my boon — my magic. Wield it wisely, young one. Beyond this, my hand may reach thee no further." My soul drifted between realms, transforming under this otherworldly power. Before I knew it, I was but a baby, born anew, upon the steps of an old cathedral in the countryside. The Sisterhood of Xelia took me in, clothed me, and taught me the tenets of the Goddess of Poverty and Forgiveness. I lived among other orphans and slowly learned about the world I now inhabited. This world was called Illustria, and it resembled the high fantasy novels I had read in my past life. Here, otherworldly beings—Humans, Fae, Dwarves, Demons, Dragons, and others—coexisted, sometimes peacefully, sometimes warring for survival. I was the only orphan of Half-Fae, Half-Human heritage, which kept the human children at a distance. That is to say, I had no acquaintances, and even fewer true friends. By my teenage years, I had discovered an aptitude for sorcery. With my Fae senses, I could perceive subtle changes in the fabric of the world, commune with surrounding spirits and the ether, and produce magic without incantation—an ability known only to Fae, Demons, and Dragons. Before I knew it, I had turned eighteen—the age of adulthood in this society. The Sisterhood gifted me a donated traveling coat. For as long as I could remember, I had longed to live as the protagonists in the stories of my past life. My first goal: to register at the nearest Adventurer’s Guild in the town of Ystrom. Ystrom lay about a day’s trek from the monastery. Let my adventure begin!