Echoing inside his mind was the dark figure's final words: "No one saw it coming... except me." Hilliard—now Torrack—could feel a strange sensation as those words faded into a blur, as if he were being pulled through a tunnel.
Then, just like that, everything went silent. He was aware of himself, but his surroundings were new, confusing. He couldn't see, only hear muffled sounds, feel soft textures, and smell the warmth of fresh bread. Instinctively, he reached out, his tiny hands brushing against a comforting warmth. It was strange—this sensation of being held in a way that made him feel both safe and utterly vulnerable.
The first few months of Torrack's new life were a whirlwind of sensations. He was born into a family of humble means, but love and warmth surrounded him. His parents, Lucia and Herald, were simple folk who ran a struggling bakery in a small town called Sirco.
His mother's voice was soft and soothing, always humming a melody that seemed to calm his restless spirit. His father's hands were rough but gentle when they held him, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder, steady and reassuring.
They didn't know their son was blind, not at first. Not until his first few months had passed and they realized he never followed the movement of their hands or reached for the toys they dangled before him. Torrack couldn't see their worried expressions, but he could hear the concern in their voices.
They spoke in hushed tones about his future, wondering aloud how he would manage in a world that relied so heavily on sight. He could sense their sorrow even though he was just an infant.
Yet, what Torrack lacked in sight, he made up for with a unique gift.
He saw auras—colors that danced around the people in his life. Even though he was blind, these colors filled his world with a vibrancy that others couldn't perceive. His parents, his siblings, the occasional visitors to their bakery—all had auras that glowed with different hues.
Over time, he learned to distinguish between them. His father, Herald, had a solid brown outer aura—a color Torrack came to associate with physical strength and resilience. His mother, Lucia, had a lighter brown outer aura, tinged with nurturing magic.
His sister, Via, had an outer aura of soft yellow, which seemed to pulse with vitality and minor healing abilities.
And then there was his older brother, Silken, who possessed a blue outer aura, indicating water-based magic—abilities that flowed with healing, fluidity, and adaptability.
These auras fascinated Torrack. He didn't fully understand their significance yet, but he sensed that they were important. They were different from the dull, muted "skin" aura that covered inanimate objects around him.
Walls, furniture, tools—everything lifeless bore that "skin" color. Torrack sensed that this was the boundary of his world, a marker of what he could and could not interact with.
As he grew, his awareness of the auras deepened. He noticed that people's auras had two circles: an outer circle that remained relatively stable, and an inner circle that shifted and changed with their emotions. His father's inner circle often trembled with fatigue, his mother's flickered with worry, and his siblings' colors shifted with the vibrant energy of youth. Torrack's own inner circle was a mystery—a swirl of colors that never settled on just one hue.
He hadn't yet figured out what that meant, but he sensed it was significant.
From the moment he arrived in this world, Torrack was determined to make sense of it. He knew he was different, not just because of his blindness but because of the knowledge he carried from his past life. He had been a healer before—a medical officer who had dedicated his life to saving others. And now, in this new life, he felt a pull to understand more about the magic that flowed through the people around him.
In the small town of Sirco, magic was a part of everyday life. It wasn't flashy or dramatic, like the stories of great wizards and sorcerers that the villagers sometimes spoke of around the hearth.
Here, magic was practical—a tool used for daily chores and minor tasks. Those with light brown outer auras, like his mother, could perform "chore magic"—lighting fires, moving small objects, drawing water. Simple things that made life easier.
As he approached his first birthday, Torrack began to experiment with his understanding of the auras. He couldn't perform magic himself—his own outer aura was a stark white, indicating an absence of magical ability. But he didn't mind.
He was more interested in learning what each aura meant and how it related to the person it surrounded.
He would watch his mother as she baked bread, her light brown aura flaring when she whispered a simple spell to heat the oven.
He noticed how his father's brown aura seemed to pulse with energy when he lifted heavy sacks of flour or kneaded dough. Silken's blue aura, meanwhile, shimmered when he practiced with water—using his magic to draw water from the well or create a small, hovering orb of liquid that he could manipulate with a flick of his wrist.
By the time he turned one, Torrack had seen a range of outer circle colors: yellow, green, brown, light brown, blue, and white. He had also witnessed some basic household magic, which he associated with the light brown outer aura.
He learned that those with a green outer aura had a unique connection to animals and nature—rare, but deeply respected in their small community. His knowledge of these auras grew day by day, and with it, his curiosity.
After his first birthday, Torrack realized that if he focused on the innannimates (skin colour) auras, he could see the auras of people behind them—almost as if he could see through walls.
This newfound ability intrigued him, opening up new possibilities for understanding the world around him.
Between the ages of one and two, Torrack began to piece together the puzzle. He realized that the outer circle of an aura was linked to a person's magical ability—or lack thereof—while the inner circle reflected their emotional state. The "skin" aura of non-living things was a different matter altogether, a neutral presence that filled the spaces between the living.
He asked his parents and siblings about the auras, but they dismissed his questions, thinking them the fanciful musings of a child. "Just his way of coping," they would say, not realizing the depth of his understanding. But Torrack knew better.
He was determined to unlock the secrets of these colors, to learn how they could help him navigate a world that was, in many ways, still dark to him.
On his second birthday, Torrack felt a new surge of determination. He had spent two years observing, learning, and growing. He was ready to take the next step, to explore the world beyond his small home and discover more about the magic and the people who wielded it.
He didn't know what the future held, but he was ready to face it head-on. Torrack took a deep breath and pushed forward, ready to embrace whatever challenges awaited him in this new, unfamiliar world.