Token arrogant mage.
Once upon a time, there was a valiant young knight with a golden heart and sterling moral fibre.
This isn’t his bio page.
Sydney Florence Turner, nineteen years of age, was born into a noble house in Caspia. His family was depressingly average, if well-off. His mother, a gossipy socialite, his father a gruff military man. Sid is the middle child in a trio of brothers.
The eldest, Cale, the pride of the family and a war hero. Also tragically (and recently) deceased. Cale was a frequent (and often only) bragging point for his parents, leaving our Sid and his younger brother, Herbert, in a rather large shadow.
Herbert was really too young, at the tender age of six, to really understand much of anything besides how fucking excellent candy is. As his doting mother was often focused on her youngest son, Sid was often left to his own devices.
Sydney had always been a shrewd, smart young boy. Blessed with a quick mind and an even quicker tongue, Sid found he could wriggle and talk his way out of most situations, and when that didn’t work…
It was as simple as breathing. It had always been.
Seven years old, Sid set his tutor’s hairpiece on fire. After that, with his magic and with the gaze of his parents elsewhere, Sid took to the streets.