She grew up in The Spire, a beautiful city of terraced towers that grew up from the sea, ruled by a benevolent council of wizards.
Unless you lived in Undercroft, the sprawling neighborhood huddled at the bottom. She dwelt in the shadows at the base of the towers and lived off of whatever the upper class dropped.
One day, she found a weathered and stained book. The tome was still legible, if dirty and damp: A grimoire full of the ruling magicians’ secret arts.
She studied it eagerly, waiting for the day she would use her oppressors’ magic against them.

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