Where I come from, there are three distinct varieties of people.

There are the militants; strong of body and strong of will, who fight with their weapons and their fists.

There are the magicians; capable in intellect and capable in spirit, who fight with their heads and their spells.

Then there are the people who are a little bit of both.

You won't know, right away, where it is that you belong. It takes maturity and experience to tell you that, and the small matter of your Rite of Initiation. The Rite is the age-old, sacred ceremony in which the Hand of Light and the Heart of Spells tell you what kind of person you truly are, and what Guild you are destined to enter.

In my city, there are the Houses, first, and then there are the Guilds.

The Houses are as old as time itself. Ancient, honorable family names that have been around for generations; Hokama, Rain, Aotora, Locke, Inazuma; the list goes on and on back into the beginning of recorded existence. You remain tied to the House you were born in until the day you die, though you might not necessarily live there; you are still connected to every other member through an unbreakable family bond.

The Guilds are different. After Initiation, you are Placed into a Guild with plenty of members from all different houses. The Guild members are tied together by a different sort of bond: common talent. Each Guild is based on either a militant, magician, or mixed talent, and your aptitude, whether obvious or veiled, determines where you end up.

There are eight Guilds in the city. The first seven are relatively straightforward in their organization and description: Farshooters, Sorcerers, Cantors, Assassins, Knights, Scholars, Lancers — and each Guild has its own role to play in our society; its own skill set to contribute to everyday life.

Then there are the Diviners.

It's pretty much common knowledge that if you're a Diviner, you're different from the rest of us; from society as a whole. You're set apart, not by any fault of your own, but by the talents lurking beneath the surface of your existence.

How unfortunate that where I come from, to be different—well, it's almost a sin.