A young inventor with a talent for magic bestows the gift of sight.

"King Cautus The Cautious, the first and quite possibly the last of his name, for 'tis known throughout the land that his majesty feared the threat of his own children so deeply, he resolved to never bear an heir. Some folks think him wise, as many a king has been felled by their own child's hand. However, he knew 'twas his duty to leave his kingdom an heir in his passing. Thus he decreed that any seeking to rule the kingdom should provide him a gift bestowing unparalleled prosperity. This would ensure both his longevity, and the ability of the future heir to lead the kingdom into a new era, one of wealth and peace."

Every year, before the festival of giving, I remember hearing these words. I was there for the first, although amid all the bustle and festivities, all I remember of that night is my father's voice.

"Anyway, listen to me rambling on, I'm hopeful for the future. Some call him cowardly rather than cautious, but I like to think the best of people. You see son, everyone is capable of being more than they are, better than they see themselves. It just takes a little hope, some effort, and sometimes even a bit of magic. That's why I have you, my little Sparkplug. You know where you get your magic don't you boy?"

"Where Papa?"

"It's from your Mother, Merek. You see, love is the strongest magic of all. Your Mother, Maerwynn, may she rest in peace, died bringing you into this world. There is no greater love than that. That's why you're so special son. And with your magic powering my machine, we'll be a shoe in for the festival, and I'll finally be able to give you the life you deserve."

He never got the chance. Shortly before presenting his invention to King Cautus, we ran a test on it. The two of us had done it in the past, it was built to grow crops using magic. A seed went in, along with soil and water, and my magic made it grow. I gripped on the handles as I'd done many times past and concentrated on the flow of my energy. Like before, as the machine began to glow and whirl, my father poured in the soil and water, but as he turned to reach for the seed, something happened.

The machine started to clang and shake, I started to lose control of my emotions, but never my grip. The banging grew louder, the shaking more violent, and with each passing moment my fear grew. I heard my Father's voice in the back of my mind, telling me to let go, but I was frozen. The shaking reached a fever pitch and I felt someone shove me aside. The last image I saw before fading into darkness was my father's face, silhouetted in flame.