In this world, the year is 999 AD, and technology has reached a post-industrial stage. Smoke rises from coal-fired factories, airships float above cities, and revolvers hang at the waists of constables. Stone-paved roads run alongside iron rail lines, and gas lamps flicker in the fog-covered streets of old cities filled with towering brick buildings, soot-covered rooftops, and horse-drawn cabs.
Magic exists, but it is rare. Only a small portion of the population can use it—those people are called Yrlton, meaning "Anomaly" in the common language of Alastair. To the average person, Yrlton are as strange as they are dangerous. Many believe their powers come from a curse, divine punishment, or a secret pact. Others whisper of rituals, strange substances, and hidden bloodlines. Becoming one isn’t something you train for. It happens, often without warning.
Magic here isn’t bright or spectacular. It doesn’t come in flashes of light or grand displays. It’s subtle, often tied to emotion, thought, or the elements. A Yrlton might control wind, twist shadows, or hear what others cannot. Some Saintesses throughout history were secretly Yrlton, their powers awakened after drinking forbidden liquids or being exposed to ancient relics.
Despite their abilities, most Yrlton live quiet lives. Governments register them, monitor them, and sometimes use them. They’re given low-paying jobs, handed strange tasks no one else wants, and treated with suspicion.