AN: REWRITE! I finally found the strength to read and rewrite this.

PROLOGUE

The kingdom of Io.

"You wish to destroy the cisteria in Zahir? This is madness your highness!"

One of the most powerful and prosperous kingdoms on The Northern Continent of Danir, it is said to be personally blessed by the spirits who gifted them with cisteria, wells of power through which her citizens could connect to in order to perform incredible feats of magic.

"Brother, are we doing the right thing? Shouldn't we leave the Regent to make a decision like this?"

"The Regent was the one who suggested it. He hypothesises that all memories and gizmos associated with magic will simply fade from the commoners. We still have the Imperial well, with that we can fortify our borders, strengthen our soldiers and have court sorcerers. This effectively sweeps the rug from the blasted Rebellion's feet and ensures that we remain in power."

"If the Regent says it's for the best, then it probably is."

Over the years, the royal family and the citizens fell out of favour with the spirits, and the cisteria slowly began to dry.

"Ensure every person in the village is dead. For this operation, you are permitted to use cursed fire on the village after completing your objectives. Tell your men to go wild."

"Yes, Lord Shishio!"

However, the largest cisteria, found in the village of Zahir in the Northern Mountains provided magic to the entire kingdom. Until that fateful day…

The village was burning and they were dying. She crawled from underneath her father's body, as he told her, clutching at the stab wound in her side made by the bad men in armour that burst in. Screams of agony could be heard from outside as those who hadn't bled out were burnt alive, just like she would die in a few minutes. Her eyes were filled with tears, she tasted iron in her mouth, her father was deadeadeadeadeadead and he asked her to live but she was dying, she wouldn't make it she was losing blood, she couldn't breathe, the smoke was horrid, the jagged edge deep within her due to the destruction of the cisteria was screaming, she wanted to die but her father wanted her to live and she was in so much pain … She slumped onto the floor besides her father's still warm body. The village was silent except for the crackling of flames. Her vision was going spotty, the heat was overbearing, and the dojo was falling to pieces around them.

The flames swirled around and from them a man stepped through, dressed in silks of red and orange and yellow with fierce but sad eyes of molten gold from the forge and wild white hair and mocha skin. He held out a hand to her and asked if she wanted to live. She reached out for the hand wordlessly.

And thus Io lost most of her magic. The Royal Family slaughtered all the guardians of the kingdom's cisteria in a bid for power, which they won. No one remembered the joys of magic and those who did were silently disposed of by the royal family. In time, those who could remember learnt how to keep their mouths shut lest they endanger themselves and their families. Meanwhile, the spirits plotted and watched.

And the sole survivor of the massacre … was joining a school.

So… what do you think?

CupofTeaforAliceandHatter, thanks for the follow when this was still an idea with Zoro's sense of direction.

Updates shall be sporadic, as my major is rather demanding (scratch that it just makes me want to keel over and die) but the fic shall not be abandoned! A beta writer will be welcomed with cookies. Especially if they can write fight scenes.