There was one of the Blessed who became avidly known throughout the Unblessed (Or Muggle) world. He was a great healer who cured many and was revered as a savior. He used my sister's gift to treat disease and heal wounds, even blindness. Many praised him and listened to his teachings; they saw him as a promised son sent to guide them.
He gathered twelve others to share his teachings with but was betrayed by one. He was accosted and crucified. His healing magic was such that he put himself in a sleep like death and for three days remained in that state. On that third day he arose though he was scarred. He spent forty more days in the world of Muggles before he returned to the world of the Blessed (Wizarding World it was called). His magic had taken great strain in keeping him alive, and his vessel was still weak; he passed into my hands not long after even with his great healing prowess.
After the Soul had healed it was reborn as another great man, one of four. He was descendant of the Naga and shared their tongue. He and his counterparts would build a great school for children of the Blessed where they could safely learn how to wield my sister's gift, but the man was never so kindly towards the Unblessed as he had been previously- a bitterness towards them grew, one that had no root in this life but the one before it.