Only adults could perform magic.
Or so they thought.

A group of wizards, curious as a cat, decided to snatch the youngest of the protectorate, inserting magic into her legs, her arms, her head, her torso, even her toes.

Some said the child would die, and others believed that if they could do it, it should be possible, so why not give it a shot?

It was true, the child was instantly enmagicked, lighting up the tips of her fingers and the top of her toes.
The next morning, she shot from bed, messy-headed and energized. Magic was in her bones, in her mind, in her tissue. It hid in the spot separating her brows. It lived in the gaps between her atoms, swimming through the oxygen in her veins.
The child was not truly enmagicked.
No, the group of wizards had formed a creature that was magic.

Zosimos, one of the wizards of the group, was proud of the accomplishment. Though proud, he was worried, for he remembered how he was enmagicked as a boy, and how extremely painful it was to deal with the sudden bursts of magic and the energy bouncing through the child. He was the only one brave enough to raise the child, seeing it as his own.
As the child aged closer to thirteen, the more Zosimos...
Paper.
That is how he felt.
He felt himself getting smaller and skinnier. He was as light and as fragile as paper.
His skin was paper.
His face was paper.
His mind was paper.
His boned were paper.
His emotions were paper.
He was weak and tired all the time.
Until-
Wait, wait, wait!
We've gone too far into the story.
Now, how does the story begin...?
Mm.. Ah, yes!
Here we are.
This... is where our story begins.

//;CLIFFHANGER