Intro

My name is Gilguga and I was born to my mother, Maritill, on a cold spring night in her wagon. My name, though harsh and kind of guttural to pronounce, actually means 'my one true love' in a long forgotten language.

My mother always gets confused as to where's that exactly was when she was giving birth to me on that night, but she had remembered it was cold and that the next day was all warm and sunny.

And so I was born on no land, country or nation to call my home. Which was fine, the wagon was my home. It was just me, my mother and our horse, named Marls. I loved Marls, still do.

I was my mother's first child, so she did have some trouble raising me on her own. My father had apparently been a soldier – they had only spent one night together, my mother gone in the early morning. From where my father had been, my mother had not cared to know.

"I knew he was a man and I a woman and that I wanted him, that was enough." She had told me often, and then proceeded to pinch my cheeks and kiss my head, calling me the 'gift that came after'.

My mother had been a songstress, you know the kind, the kind men remembered and women hated. She could sway crowds with her music and sing songs of olden days and new. My mother was like a dream.

I myself wasn't really gifted with my mother's angelic voice or talented musical fingers, nor did I look like her that much at all. Not in my opinion at least.

Nonetheless, we'd be singing and laughing together as we traveled from village to village, town to town, city to city and from country to country. A simple lighthearted life, with sunshine on our faces and flowers in our hair.

Of course there were some lesser times, times when my mother had to spare her voice or couldn't find anywhere to perform and we had to do other work. Whenever that happened we stayed in one place for longer than a few days, working the fields or serving the drinks in taverns. Once we stayed so long in a place I actually made a friend, Matthew Hunbie. My mother found work in an apple acres that belonged to Matthew's family. I was six and Matthew had been five and he had been quiet, but funny and sweet. I really had liked Matthew. My mother had really liked Matthew's father. You could imagine how that went.

They were good times and treasured memories.

After that my mother and I joined a circus, which made life easier if not...crowded. Growing up in a circus might seem amazing, but it really wasn't. It was hard work.

I tried multiple acts to see where I fitted in, but never really found my talent amongst the talented.

So I took care of the horses, children, washing clothes and the like. Of course my mother would often complain to me that my "gifts" were being wasted, but I couldn't even begin to wonder what "gifts" she was talking about. By this time my mother had become pregnant again, when I myself was fourteen. The pregnancy had been such a struggle for her, that she became very ill and we could no longer keep up with the circus, so we stayed behind.

Finding someone, anyone, to help was the most frustrated and desperate I had been my entire life. I was absolutely terrified of losing my mother. She was all I had.

Finally, after three days of asking around, I heard of a healer in another town. I managed to convince the healer to help my mother and so she did.

It was the first time I saw what real magic could do.

The healer, Innid, told me I had the potential to become a mage, though probably in a different field, but it had me reeling with excitement.

She told me that if I ever wanted to learn, there were plenty of guilds to choose from where she studied.

Again, I couldn't sleep that night. Not because of the fear that my mother would die, but because I actually considered asking to go study at Innid's mage guild.

Come morning, when my mother had enough energy to walk around, she told me how grateful she was to have me with her this time. To not be alone this time, how happy we would be as a family of three, four if we counted Marls.

I couldn't bring myself to tell her what I wanted. I was good with children after all and mother could use my help when she had to work and...and I was afraid.

So the very next moment, we sat of to rejoin the circus, where about three weeks later, my little sister Tervia was born.

I remembered where, I even left a mark on a big old oak tree, so I could show her when she was older. I would tell her she was born during the fall on a clear morning, when all the leafs in the trees had fallen down and were copper, red or bright yellow.

After that, I spend most of my time either doing chores for the circus or watching over Tervia, thoughts of joining any mage guild in the far back of my mind.

Then the great war happened, that raged over all across Valoran for many years, which caused our circus to disband and go their separate ways. During that time it was really hard to get by through any means, since the common folk didn't have any coin to spare on entertainment and farms were either burned to ground or turned into battlefields.

It was the first time I ever stole something, but we had to eat. My mother would scowl me, not for stealing, but for taking a risk. We, as strangers to tightly knit villages and towns, were a pariah of sorts and easily suspected of anything.

Of course she was right and then one day the folk of the town we were in started blaming all sort of nasty things on us. We hadn't done anything, apart from the few times I had stolen something. But they weren't accusing us of that. Apparently, we were the cause of all of their misfortunes in life.

Whenever this happened, we were gone by next light. We never stayed in city's anymore, for they had walls that could lock us in if they wanted to do worse then accusing falsehoods.

Those were horrible days, truly awful.

It was a time when I discovered something crucial about the nomadic life – if you had no place to call home, you had no home to protect you. It was as simple as that.

Even if my wagon was my home, the wagon wasn't a village with tons of people in it who knew you and trusted you. At that point I really missed the circus and the very odd make shift family we had.

I shared these thoughts and worries with my mother, when we were heading up north, who in turn held my hand and squeezed it tightly. She told me that as soon as the war was over, we could have such a simple life. Stay in one place, make friends and enemies out of neighbors. We could have our own tavern or farm or shop or whatever we wanted.

And then the great war ended and the Institute of War was formed at the very heart of Valoran. The sudden peace was so shocking I think the world could barely comprehend it.

My mother decided we would go there and stay there. The city that surrounds the Institute and its stadium right now, was build by people like my mother who all traveled there to start a new life. So it didn't matter no one knew you, nobody did.

We were very fortunate to be one of the first people to settle there. We opened our own tavern, filled it with good food, drinks and music, if I do say so myself.

After a good few years of this, with the Institute established and everything, Innid walked into the tavern royally starved and exhausted. When I saw her, the desire I had put away came crashing back. I was surprised that she recognized me right away.

As I found out, she was a summoner, being assigned the role of a support. By then everyone already knew that support summoners were too few and far between and the institute had trouble dispersing them equally among the teams.

I owed Innid my mother's life and I still wanted to learn how to do magic, so I asked if there was a way for me to become a summoner myself, specializing in the support role.

I think Innid had wanted to kiss me that evening, but I wasn't sure.