Magic: a common ability, in The Radiant Isles, the advanced society of light and knowledge, and Home of the Elves, and most Humans; but not so in Ulfavir, The Deep, the Lands of darkness and chaos, Home of... everything else.
Magic: personal in nature, unique to a point, though usually identifiable and trainable; until It's simply... not.
Magic: all-powerful, industrious, intricate, and challenging; and also flawed, full of weaknesses, chaotic, over complicated, uncontrollable, and dangerous.
That's all magic really is, after all... semantics, and two sides to a coin that decides the fate of the world, every day.
A child without time,
a boy without a soul,
a vessel for the old,
a bringer of woe.
Beware the child born without a day.
But fear the child with no year.
This is a fantasy short story that works as a prologue to a series (still to be written) but can be read on its own.