The Kingdom of X
Our busy sorcerer Rasham works with his family everyday in the heart of the kingdom's capital city. Still an apprentice craftsman, he works under the guidance of his father repairing damaged equipment from the armories of various royal knights and adventurers. If something needs fixing, the Aster clan is the place to go.
The city's arms maintenance contracts were awarded to Rasham's grandfather, Yarrow, when he founded his business touting expedicious work, with quality results to support his claims. It was no secret that his methods of craftmanship utilized the force of magic as a conduit for his shop's success; the storefront was practically glowing with arcane energy from dawn until dusk. As a result, the shutters were usually battened to avoid complaints of bright lights and escaped runes from his neighbors.
Since then the business had been passed down to Rasham's father who'd gladly taken up the torch when given the opportunity. There was a lot of money to be made from these royal contracts, but such superficial merits of success were not what kept his hands polishing plate. As cliche as it is, a job well done is enough to satisfy and keep some people happy.
This is not Rasham, however; he did not get the same satisfaction from his work. To him, he is just there to help keep his father's dream alive in his old age where his fingers are not so nimble and his spells lack the potency they use to express. He could honestly find more enjoyment from locking the front door at the end of a long day. In the end though, Rasham is a bit too sympathetic to up and leave the family business to pursue his own dreams, and find true happiness.
But where is Mom? Where does she fit in to all of this?
Rasham's mother used to help out from time to time when she was home. But now, for the last few years at least, she's been busy working as a bard travelling with a group of adventurers. Dad knew she didn't enjoy fixing boots all day as much as he did, so he wanted her to pursue something she could enjoy instead, and as long as she was happy, he would be too.
And thus is where our sorcerer finds himself: stuck with his father, working everyday not even to make his last days better or easier, but to at least keep him contented until he either finally asks Rasham to take the reins, or one day never makes it out of bed.
One of my earliest memories is of my grandfather helping me with my magical attunement. In the meadow behind his summer cabin, he would try to coax sparks from me but to no avail. According to our local grandmaster, I did indeed have arcane potential, but was not particularly fluent and needed to work on expressing it.
And that was the consensus as far as my family and I had known. I was just bad at magic. I never thought more of it until one day, my grandfather seemed more lethargic than usual. He was old, so some sluggishness is expected, but on this particular day it seemed as if his aura had been stolen from him. I was asked to pick up some medicine from the apothecary help him feel better.
The walk to the apothecary took a few hours, my grandfathers cabin is a ways outside the city limits in the outskirts.