Raphael Estrada

Example

*He that has eyes to see and ears to hear may convince himself that no mortal can keep a secret. If his lips are silent, he chatters with his fingertips; betrayal oozes out of him at every pore.*

Character is a Revenant Wizard played by Brit.

## Biography

Writing about oneself is something that has never come naturally. It is why I’ve always found solace in the clinical objectiveness of an academic paper. The uninvolved nature of it all just makes sense. An autobiography though….. An autobiography is my life, it doesn’t get more involved than that. In fact, not only was I involved in it, but now I am involved in the retelling of it. Never did I think I would be one of those poncy mages that regurgitates every tripe anecdote in their menial existence in the hopes that someone reads it to maintain their legacy. But I decided that in my old age it is important for me to try to write it all down so I can remember. So I can learn. Ever since my passing, things have been getting blurry. I don’t want to forget and resort back to arrogance and selfishness. I do not intend to let anyone read this. I plan on burning this before I pass for good.

I was born the youngest of 7 children in El-Dra Solmarr. Diego seemed to take great pleasure in reminding me that my mother birthed me on a heap of garbage. In retrospect, it truly was the perfect symbolism to represent the rest of my stay in Solmarr. My parents Luca and Rita were drug addicts and squatters. We mostly lived in an abandoned hovel we called home. We still had the ‘luxury’ of having two undead slaves, as is customary, but according to Solmarr standards, we lived in squalor. It was miserable. My parents were always around physically, but they felt more like desolate husks whenever they were high, which happened to be most waking hours. As a child, if I were to fall over and scrape my knee, I would run to one of our undead slaves for care and comfort. I never fully reflected on this as a child. I remember often wishing my parents were more present, but could never comprehend why they were not. I never realised the abnormality in feeling more connected to an undead slave than my own flesh and blood.

Due to the absence of any parental supervision, my two eldest twin siblings (Dalia and Eli) secretly got involved in the gang ‘The Undead Front’. They helped put food in our mouths whilst my parents pissed away whatever they had on fuelling their drug addiction. As I recall, The Undead Front did not get its name by chance. They would frequently sacrifice the undead to fight for them in gang wars whilst ‘actual members’ would participate in drug deals and robberies. A very literal name indeed. Lazy, even, if you ask me. I digress. Dalia was particularly adamant about dragging me along to the gang’s various excursions to ‘toughen me up’.

Luckily for all of us, our brief gang stint didn’t last long. Perhaps just under 7 months. I think one of our undead slaves eventually caught on and informed our parents. Once they found out, it was a wakeup call to them. Dad forced his way back to sobriety and tried to help Mum achieve the same. She would be clean for a little while, but always relapsed. One day when I was 19, she had just left without a word. Dad had the challenge of explaining to all of us why she left. I remember he said “to recover is to accept your life is in shambles and you have to change”. It was that day I realised she found it easier to maintain her intoxicating escapism than face reality. At the time I was so angry that she would abandon us. Now that I am much much older, I think I can accept the pain she must have been in.

Luca Estrada managed to get back on his feet and started renting a small apartment in a nicer part of the city. He opened up a pottery business, selling the goods he made, whilst also hosting taught classes. Soon he earned enough money to bail Dalia, Eli and myself out of The Undead Front and put us, along with my other siblings, through a few years of education. This is where I met Ithos Eldridge, my only childhood friend. We lived in the same apartment block and went to the same school, so it made sense that we would become thicker than thieves. I would frequently visit their apartment, since only Ithos and his father, Derwin Eldridge, resided there. It was always a nice break from the natural chaos of my own living space. Once my siblings moved away to pursue careers and Ithos moved away for college, I still made an effort to visit Derwin everyday. He seemed lonely, and I had grown very fond of him over the years. We had long conversations about a myriad of topics, but we got the most fired up when talking about politics and magic. Derwin taught me the very basics of wizardry and laid out the foundation of my knowledge. We would also engage in discourse about Solmarri politics with Derwin always rambling on about how unfair the utilitarian application of the undead was, and that it was distasteful at best. He preached it was unfair that the souls of the undead were not properly laid to rest since their bodies are risen to do the bidding of the living. He himself refused to have any undead slaves in his home. I never had these conversations with my own father. It’s peculiar, although my father managed to turn his life around, I don’t think I ever managed to view him as anything more than a carer, in my eyes he was equal to our undead slaves. I feel awful for admitting this, but Derwin was what I needed emotionally for a father figure. He didn’t have an abundance of children/teenagers to care for so could really invest his time in me. He treated me as an equal, not just a mouth to feed. Eventually, when he deemed me ready, Derwin passed over his wizarding tome, the one I still have to this very day. That one book meant more than anything my father gave me. But perhaps I am being unfair. My father tried his best given the circumstances. I don’t think I should hold that against him.

I will be the first to admit that learning the intricacies of the arcane was very slow to begin with. I spent a lot of my free time studying in the local libraries and bookstores when I wasn’t working in dad’s pottery shop. I remember starting with the fiction section first just for a burst of inspiration and wonder for what is to come. **[insert anecdote here]**. The library wasn’t enough. I simply had to know more. I had to put my knowledge into practice. I signed up for an expedition that was organised by archaeological hobbyists. Their goal was to investigate a specific cave system thought to house many ancient artefacts and spell scrolls. I, along with a handful of mages and bruiser-types were hired with the purpose of protecting the archaeologists in exchange for some money and any loot that we found that didn’t interest the archaeologists. Unfortunately, our expedition was cut short when we realised we were in way over our heads. Instead of the few scattered mephits as we were expecting, we encountered a colony of druegar. Absolutely my luck. We managed to escape by the skin of our teeth with the large haul we had gathered from the expedition. Truth be told, it felt like divine intervention. Although a lot of us, myself included, suffered deep axe wounds.

The expedition was a close call, but it only further fuelled my insatiable thirst for knowledge. I started to venture into the wild areas of Solmarr to perfect my spellcasting. Most days I would try to find a secluded area away from the rabble of the city to really focus on the few spells Derwin equipped me with. Unsurprisingly, after a short amount of time, I had perfected the spells in my tome. I continued learning magic by sourcing some stronger spells to learn from the library and testing them out in the wilds. Sometimes I’d have to travel a little further to avoid the stranded and forgotten undead that lurked there. Former beings with souls that had been disturbed and abandoned. Husks of loved ones, condemned to repeat another lifetime of working until they physically withered away, or are cast away to roam endlessly and without purpose. Seeing them always reminded me of Derwin.

I decided to move away from my father’s pottery business and pursue a career of my own in politics. I still practised my magic, of course, but I felt it was high time Solmarr undertook a cultural shift. I attended protests and rallies advocating against the use of the undead as work slaves. I tried to argue a population of 15,000,000 undead could easily overwhelm the living population of 3,000,000. I tried to face the system head-on with a small group of people I met attending these protests, to no avail. I suddenly became a lot more infamous than I had ever expected and made a lot of enemies out of patriots and powerful people that made a profit from using the undead. People would threaten me on the street and at my father’s house. I took the hint and fled Solmarr before things got out of control and my family’s lives were put at risk.

I fled to Tyriasius. I floated around like a lost puppy for a few days until I was recruited by Professor Faye Solaris, where I was recruited by the mage’s association and was enrolled as a student in the lower classes. To tell the truth, I was offended at first. ‘Lower’ classes? The audacity! When I went into my first class, I thought I was hot shit. Turns out I was not. I was good with magic, and could cast a lot of sophisticated spells, but I was weak when it came to the background knowledge that contextualised the spells we were learning. I also was a weird outsider kid who didn’t come from an extensive lineage, which is very rare in the Mage’s Association. As a consequence, I was often overlooked during the first few semesters. Despite this, I persevered. As I improved as a student, people’s perceptions of me followed suit. I became a more well-rounded spell-caster all thanks to my Professor who would stay behind in class answering my endless list of questions. As I progressed through my education, I would still occasionally be sneered at due to my lack of lineage, but these grievances were never anything more than a snide remark often coming from old-aged traditionalists.

During my education I made a few close and good friends throughout my studies, a couple whom I kept in contact with even after graduation: Lillian Vildirin and Milo Herrera. Lillian was very patient and kind, but when she was comfortable around someone, she was like a firecracker. A very vibrant personality who could dish out just as much as she could take. Milo was more subdued. I always joked that they were like an angel and demon on my shoulder. There was seldom a dull moment with the two around. I remember we used to hang around the quad casting subtle auditory spells unsuspectingly behind those passing by. Well…. We thought we were being subtle. If our sloppy magic didn’t give us away, our very obvious giggling did. We kept in contact for a while after we graduated. I wonder what they’re doing now. I miss them.

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