Not a Life for Everyone
She fastened the cloak behind her neck and stepped out into the empty street. A magic circle spiralled on her hand as she flaunted her recently learnt Wind Magic for… nobody to see. All her life she had dreamt of becoming an explorer, and recently she had taught herself the basics of Magic, with some effort - the latent power of her bloodline had been hiding away all these years but finally, it was free. She only really knew how to launch a simple blast or create some visually appealing but combatively ineffectively shapes, but that would be enough to scare off most bandits or thieves, surely.
And at long last, the whole of the world was at her fingertips. Perhaps she could head to the nearby Grand Navy outpost and sign up, go and explore their headquarters which she had always seen looming far in the distance. A merchant once told her the entire mountain was hollowed out, and the King Admiral had his office inside a giant crystalline room which was embedded into the eastern face.
Fight the Corsairs, kill assassins. Get promoted and wear a nice uniform!
Or perhaps she could be a mercenary, sword, or magic for hire. That would be exciting. Travelling to merchant towns all over the world in search of a job.
She could become a pirate… not like a criminal one, but more like… one who does it for the thrill. You know, the adventure, the high seas, hiding out in abandoned coves, singing sea shanties. That would be fun.
Or, treasure hunter. Who doesn’t love treasure. Find the stuff all the Pirates of so long ago hid, dig it up, get some dirt on your hands as you haul giant chests onto your Brig.
Ha! She could have her own crew, trade cargo for a larger ship, go sailing as a legend of the seas. Everyone will hear her story. Everyone could know her name.
She could be a bounty hunter, perhaps. Fight criminals for justice and get paid to do so. No wage like the Navy but the greater freedom (And occasionally greater reward) would suit her well.
A ragged man with crazed eyes pulled out a pistol as he stumbled past.
“Money… Give me… som- Lass… ‘r… trigger. Death.”
His pile of words made no sense to the girl. She laughed at the old pistol he carried. It looked decades ancient and was so full of dirt she hardly could imagine it firing. A magic circle formed on her wrist. “I’d run if I were you… especially if you’re planning on survivi-”
A bullet shattered her skull and blood ran down her empty face.
The life isn’t for everyone.
(totally not a cope to make me feel less bad about slaughtering marines and merchants)