There’d been a time, though. Before high school. I always aced my arcane classes and I was well on my way to not only following in the Walsh family’s footsteps, but to surpassing many of them. And gods, my dad was so proud of me, asking about my classes then, and we’d talk spell work incessantly until Mom had to ban any magic topics at dinner. I knew I probably wouldn’t go the military route, but for that small window before Camp Merethyl, I at least felt a part of this family, because that spark in my dad’s eyes when we talked about spells? It burned in me, too. We had that connection.
Revolutionary daddy issues...
