August 15, 1887

"The power in my Aura...the power in my Aura..." Airel muttered to himself, staring at his hands. Yet, he experienced no sudden revelation. 

"Thalayna was right," he finally fumed, rising from his seat at the edge of the Altair River. "That Aurologist is a loon." 

As he grabbed his satchel, preparing to return home, he was stopped by a large pair of hands wrapping around his throat. He gasped, choking as his attacker shoved him to the ground, holding his head at the edge of the raging river, swollen from the recent rains. 

"Who..." He wheezed, looking up to see Crescel Myers staring down at him, a savage look in his eye. "Let...go!" Airel kicked the Aurologist with all his might, but he wasn't strong enough to have any sort of effect on the vicelike grip around his neck. 

Suddenly, as spots danced before his eyes, he began to feel a cool, powerful sensation rising from the depths of his stomach, sending pellets of Aura spewing out of every part of his body. It was almost like he was Awakening all over again. 

Then, snarling, he flexed the muscles in his neck and Crescel's hands instantly flew off. Extending his arm, he sent the Aurologist flying into a tree with the touch of a finger. 

"Not so much of a loon now, am I?" Crescel grinned, clutching his back as he picked the leaves out of his hair, oblivious to the pain he was obviously feeling. 

"How did I do that?" Airel whispered, looking at the Aura around him which had already returned to normal.

"That, my friend, is the true use of the Aura. But, it's only a glimpse of the control we can achieve together if you allow me to help you learn to harness the immense power within you. Would you like me to tell you how I knew to find you here by the river today? I used a device called an AuraMap to locate your unique Aural footprint. That is only one of the marvelous things one can do with this lovely toy we call the Aura." 

"Stay back!" Airel warned tremulously, picking up a fallen tree branch and pointing it at Crescel's face. "I want none of your black magic." 

"I am forcing nothing upon you. You can choose to be part of this pigheaded world that equates science with sorcery, or you can open your eyes and claim the benefits of the Gift with which you were born." 

"What gift?" Airel narrowed his eyes, slowly lowering the stick. 

"Oh, that. Science is all about precise terminology, yet I had no idea what to call your unusual Aural affinity, so I whimsically dubbed it the Gift. It's a remarkable thing, your Gift. It'd be a shame to see it go to waste," Crescel sighed.

"Teach me to use my Gift," Airel sighed. "But don't make me regret this decision."

"I had full confidence that you would understand," the Aurologist beamed. "Meet me at this very spot tomorrow as soon as your bakery closes. We have no time to waste, we have a world to conquer!" 

"Conquer?" Airel frowned. "Who ever said anything about a conquest? If we discover any arable land beyond the wall, it is our duty as citizens of the township to claim it in the name of the Magistrate." 

"The Magistrate?" Crescel snorted. "Remember what you just did to me? When you're able to summon that kind of power at will, His Cowardly, Bloated Lordship will be no more than an ant before you. You shall be a great ruler. Your name shall be immortal!" 

"No matter how much of an unimaginative boar he is, he is still my wife's only living relation. If I hurt him, I hurt Thalayna," Airel winced. 

"I'm not asking you to hurt him," Crescel grinned. "I'm only asking you to overthrow him."