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In a lush forest clearing, away from prying eyes sat a lonely old cabin. The wind blew hard against its face, making the foundations creak in discomfort. Inside the isolated cabin sat a man past his prime in a rocking chair, enjoying the serenity of his peaceful surroundings in the twilight of his life. Unfortunately for him, said serenity was shattered by the arrival of his sprightly grandson stomping into the living room.
"Grandpa! Grandpa! It's storytime!" The boy said gleefully, the elderly man slowly rose from his weathered rocking chair, he groaned loudly as his entire body slightly shook due from the aches and stiffness of age.
"Indeed it is, but you need to be in bed for that, and neither did you say the magic word." The gentleman replied as his grandson stomped his feet and inflated his cheeks.
"Hmph!"
"Come now, you're usually such a good boy. Why are you behaving this way?"
"Bleh!"
"That's a strange sounding magic word."
"Storytime! Storytime!! Storytiiiiiiime!!!"
"If you don't say the magic word there will BE no storytime!" The grandfather said sternly whilst putting his foot down. The boy looked to the floor, hiding his face with his long head of hair, his lips quivered as he whispered.
"...please..."
"I'll give you one last chance."
"PLEASE CAN YOU TELL ME A BEDTIME STORY, PLEASE?!?" A faint smile appeared from beneath the old man's long, bushy, silver beard, he stroked it as he spoke.
"Okay, I can tell you one story. But only because you asked so nicely." The boy looked up, his eyes sparkled with sheer unbound joy, his feet stomped on the floor, unable to contain his enthusiasm.
"YAY! STORYTIME TIME! COME ON GRANDPA!" The grandfather chuckled softly at his grandsons youth filled outburst before speaking once more.
"Somebody's over eager! I'll meet you in a minute, son. This old man's gotta relieve himself." "Number one or number two?"
"One or the other."
"Okaaaaay! Thank you, grandpaaaaa!" The boy let out a squeaky giggle before waddling back to his bedroom. After washing his hands with a nearly depleted bar of soap, the elderly gentleman stole a glance at a set of blank books on the table beside his decrepit rocking chair and made his way to his overzealous grandsons bedroom, he knocked on the door gently and spoke just so.
"Are you tucked in, yet?"
"I'm ready!" The old man pushed open the slightly ajar door, his eyes fixed on the left hand side of the simple room where the boy sat upright in his bed, still fidgeting with excitement.
"Which fairy tale do you wish to hear tonight?"
"The magical book one, please!"
"You mean 'The Thief & The Magical Book? Again? I told you that one last night, though, not to mention the fact you fell asleep partway through!"
"Come on, pleeeeeeeease!"
"Okay, I will read it to you again, but you have to promise me you won't fall asleep until the end."
"I PINKY promise!" The boy eagerly held his pinky finger upright, the old man responded by twisting his own pinky finger around the boys, sealing the deal. He grabbed a small book off of the bookshelf, pulled up a chair, and flipped the book open to its first page.
"You ready?" The boy nodded vehemently. "Okay, here we go:"
Long ago, long before the four kingdoms came to be, long before war and turmoil, dividing and conquering, the world was at peace. People went about their day with no worries or resentment towards their brethren, elves and dwarves wandered the streets freely, without prejudice from the humans.
Inside every living being, there was a wellspring of untapped potential, ready to burst to the surface, but never did... nobody knew of this incredible power that laid dormant within them, all except one family, a special family.
There were intriguing tales spoken of this family, this family who could somehow move things with their minds, set things ablaze with their hands, and conjure creations from thin air, amongst many other strange happenings. Everybody accused this family of not being humans at all, calling them devil spawns before throwing them out of their village, banishing them for all eternity.
Years later, the world forgot about the strange family with otherworldly abilities. The family now resided in a lone cabin on a lush prairie surrounded by a wide variety of wild flowers, everything from Verbenas and Poppies, all the way to Lotus flowers in the nearby pond.
The head of the family, an elderly gentleman, brimming with vigor stepped out onto his porch and took in a deep breath, still amazed by the serenity of his environment, he looked to the left and could see a handsome young man, his son, working hard on the soil, planting their next harvest. The hoe sliced through the air, tilling the soft soil in a simple, elegant fashion.
Just to his right was his stunningly beautiful daughter, also working hard in the pursuit of playing harder later. She could be seen nurturing and feeding their bountiful livestock, all the while with a soft smile across her dainty face.
And just as the man was about to get working himself, his rosy cheeked spouse, his muse, appeared carefully cradling a fresh batch of sweet tea. As she poured the warm nectar into an empty cup, the soothing aroma wafted through the air, mixing pleasantly with the scent delicate flora.
He gave his wife a soft kiss on the cheek in thanks before taking a small sip of her concoction, after he swallowed a mouthful of the beverage, the head of the family placed it down gently and held his hands forward, closing his eyes tightly. A fraction of a moment later, the man could feel his mana surging through the tips of his fingers, and the space in front of him began to warp unnaturally.
When he opened his eyes once more, a rocking chair had apperated before him. He inspected the peculiar looking mechanisms on the side, and he delicately nudged the dinky little device on one of the arms all the way to the end of its tether, the chair began to rock back and forth of its own volition, which surprised the old man pleasantly.
He nodded his head softly before pulling the small lever back to its original position and sat down, savouring his sweet bounty, and his delightfully ingenious creation. After consuming the last of his delectable drink, the man finally set to work in his own personal nirvana, helping all of his wonderful family in any way he could, but eventually, the day came to a close.
Everybody could feel a sense of weariness from the toils of the day as the sunset began to sink into the horizon, fortunately dinner was ready. They all felt rejuvenated as the smell of freshly cooked poultry filled the air, inviting them inside. The weary family surged through the door, stomachs growling as the food seduced them with its gorgeous smell, before tucking down they paused briefly to say grace and thanks to the meal.
Once the dinner was devoured, everybody went to their bedrooms to rest, all except the old man who bought his new rocking chair indoors, and began to write in a weathered brown diary with a four leaf clover, a diamond, a heart, and a spade across its spine. Eventually , he too succumbed to his exhaustion and he fell asleep, diary in hand whilst his new rocking chair pitched back and forth in a gentle rhythm.
Darkness fell across the home like a blanket as the last candle flickered out, the sounds of the night sprung to life. Owls hooted, wolves howled, and a singular bush rustled, emerging from said bush was someone unknown, an interloper. He groaned slightly whilst pulling out a bramble from beneath his fingernail, he then set his sights on the now silent, dark house in the middle of nowhere.
He tiptoed towards the cozy homestead and methodically opened the front door, his deep blue eyes widened. His fiery orange hair stood on end and his heart jumped out of his chest as he saw the outline of a figure in a rocking chair, but the panic soon subsided as the thief heard the faint sound of snoring coming from the chairs occupant.
After breathing a quiet sigh of relief, the nefarious man began to creep around the isolated home out in the sticks, grabbing a wide variety of mundane items for his financial gain. After filling his bag to the brim with goodies, curiosity got the better of the thief as he snuck over to where the elderly gentleman slept and leaned in to grab the man's diary.
A sharp burning sensation coursed through the thiefs arm as soon as his fingers touched the diary, he roared in pain, waking the slumbering man in the process. The owner of the homestead grabbed the young criminal's pulsating arm and gripped it tightly, but something most worrying happened: the veins in the thief's arm began to glow orange in the darkness, as too did the old mans diary before an eruption of flame came spewing out.
The old man instinctively summoned a torrent of water to his face to douse the fire, a puff of smoke filled the air, causing the man of the house and his violent assailant to choke violently. Once the smoke subsided, the old man opened his eyes once more and found that the thief had scarpered.
The man gave chase and yelled a vicious war cry, rallying his family to come to his side and they all began to chase the vile ne'er-do-well. Thanks to his incompetence, the thief was still gasping for air by the time the enraged family caught up to him.
He growled furiously at the bumpkin families persistence, the old man's diary once again glowed an ominous orange in the darkness as it began to flick through its pages until it landed on a blank one which quickly began to acquire incoherent scribbles on it. The thief's arm began to glow once more as he swept his arm horizontally, out of nowhere a firewall emerged.
Everyone in the magical family looked to the old man for guidance, with out saying a word, they understood what had to be done. A tidal wave of water appeared before the family, the overflowing torrent of water collided with the wall of fire, but the flames didn't falter.
The Thief gritted his teeth and let out a guttural roar, every vein in his body began to glow a bright orange as the water evaporated into a fine mist. But once again, the thief grew too confident in his newfound abilities, and the flower field around him began to combust into a towering inferno. Hearing the anguished cries of the thief filled the family with a strange sense of pity... so much so that they all deemed it necessary to put him out of his misery, they all accumulated as much mana as they could muster and set one final wave of water towards the flames, extinguishing the wildfire, and the poor man it had engulfed.
The family walked slowly towards the thief who was clinging to the last embers of his life, he looked up at the family, a small weak smile emerged on his charred face before he closed his eyes one final time... the old man tried to grab his diary, but it began to glow orange once more. The family stepped back again thinking the fight was not yet over, but the book began to disintegrate in front of them, disappearing from existence altogether...
The family returned to their home with their belongings that didn't succumb to the thief's flames, they all sat around their dining room table, racking their heads on how someone that wasn't them was able to use magic at all, let alone with such proficiency. After several hours of analysis and thought, the old man came to his conclusion.
He proposed that he may have unintentionally filled his diary with mana, which resonated with that man, providing him with magic of his own. The rest of the family seemed hesitant about the old man's theory, and decided to reconvene in the morning with clearer heads.
The next day came and it was time for the family to try out the old man's suggestion, the mother, brother, daughter each invited someone they trusted to their homestead and provided them with a book they put some of their mana into, and the results each spoke for themselves. Each person gained the ability to manipulate water, wind, and earth respectively! So with that, the deal was sealed. The friends of the family members each returned to their respective town's and villages and told the tales of the special family who had the ability to give them magic powers with just a book.
The news spread like a wildfire, and the family was asked to create these special books for the masses. They say those special books, now named after the special family: Grimoires, are still being made to this very day, and the family lived happily ever after, finally being accepted for their special gift...
The old man looked down at his grandson who was sound asleep, he rolled his eyes before saying, "Ahhh... I knew this would happen again." He slowly rose from the bedside chair and made his way back to the living room where his old rocking chair still moved of its own volition.
"But still..." The kindly old man grabbed a book from the table to his left, he closed his eyes and the blank cover of the book transfigured into something new! It had a pink cover, what appeared to be gems running down the spine and portions of the front, including around a white three leaf clover.
"He'll learn the truth soon enough..."