Mages are the ultimate power. They control and use their magic to better their lives and their property. They create and destroy things. They make constructs and real live animals, like unicorns and dragons and phoenixes. The limit to their power is unknown to any but themselves. Mere humans are nothing compared to mages.
Or so the teachings of mage children went. Damian sneered contemptuously at the handwritten history of mages he was reading.
Unicorns! Created! He thought disgustedly. Ha! Of course, that's what they want us 'children' to believe!
But he knew better. The books under the bed told him the real truth. The one not sugared up to seem sweet to the rest of the mage population.
But even at eighteen Damian could tell truth from lies in texts. He knew, without a doubt, who was telling the truth about the way modern society was ran.
Damian was a different sort of mage. He looked only vaguely like either of his parents. He had light brown hair and baby-blue eyes. His skin wasn't as tan as any of his siblings, and he was taller than his oldest brother Bo. He was thin, and in the midst of serious mage training.
Mage children, most born with dark hair and eyes, were raised in the ways of magic. In the morning, your mother would create a nutritious, tasty meal out of thin air with her magic. Between breakfast and lunch, you were schooled in the history and importance of magery by your father. If you had siblings, they were taught with you.
Then, after you ate a lunch prepared by your mother and father, you had a short break, which was used to study, you practiced magic with your mother and father. Then there was a dinner, sitting in order of birth, with your entire family. Then the children went to bed and the adults off to work. The older you were, the less sleep you needed, until you didn't need sleep at all.
Damian hardly ever needed sleep either. He was close enough to adulthood to be content with only a few hours a night.
So usually, Damian spent the hours before he truly needed sleep reading. It was unnecessary, but he had been more curious about history than his lessons could satisfy. He had crept into the library one night to find more interesting books to read.
He was quietly perusing the history shelves when he came across a human history. It was a personal account of a human's life. It contradicted everything he had ever learned about mages. Near that same history he found other human histories that were published. Damian was sure that if the books were found under his bed, they would be confiscated and he would be duly punished.
Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it.