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Talentless

tinker, tailor, jester, faker

With your father dead in an accident, your mother was the one who taught you magic, taught you the first whispers of enchantment and jinxes. And it was her who first realized that you struggled in something that came to her so easily.[break][break]
It didn't make sense for you to be so lacking. There was no problem in breeding - your mother and father were both more than capable, your grandparents having worked hard and excelled beyond belief. And yet here you were. Even at a young age, you could already discern that expression as disappointment.[break][break]
She assured you that you'd learn as time passed. But the repeated saying only got more strained as you grew older, still unable to perform the simplest of hexes.[break][break]
Another route, another choice. You decided you'd learn transfiguration. Your mother disapproved - you came from a line of enchanters. Transfiguration was too dangerous, too difficult for a beginner with seemingly no talent. You were stubborn and kept to your choice - partially because you wanted to make a choice for yourself, partially because you knew transfiguration was difficult. Dangerous. And perhaps because you wanted to show that you could do something that seemed impossible.[break][break]
You kept at it, learning from one of your mothers' friends. You knew your mother had asked them for this favor to teach you. And you knew that their gaze was so completely full of pity as you failed again and again.[break][break]
There was little success with a teacher. And there was little after they left, having given up. You were talentless, unable. You cried for another chance, your excuse being you simply couldn't. And that was all there was to it - you simply couldn't.[break][break]
You grit your teeth and persevered. You couldn't back down. Not now. Not after all those years. You'd managed little more than in enchantment, but you held on to that little bit of success like a lifeline. But with no ability, jobs were difficult to come by. Sure, you did all right in intellectual subjects and excelled at mathematics, but magic was important. It's a magical society, after all.[break][break]
You took to what little technology was around like a flame to a candle wick. You understood it far more than any of the enchantment theories you'd been forced to learn as a child. Your mother disapproved - technology was used far too little, and it was simply not to be trusted. Magic was far more efficient. You laughed at that - if you couldn't use magic, then what else did you have? You finally found this one little spark of talent, and yet it was also unacceptable.[break][break]
You tossed aside all the jibes and commentary and dove into work. Tinkering and inventing, and transfiguration on he side. You'd once dreamed of being in the Helios Knights, but that dream had long since faded - the Jester's Den welcomed you if only because you'd nowhere to go.[break][break]
And you've come to a standstill. You simply don't know what to do now, other than keep doing what you've always done - shrug out a laugh and look forward.