Spent eighteen years watching my father heal people so reckon it's no suprise I learnt the way as well. He travelled some before settling in Tuchea, originally from Iridine. Once there he set to moving around and healing folk in poorer areas, squalid fishing towns mainly. Was in one of these places he met my mother, and where I and my brother spent most our childhood and adolesence.
Can't remember when it started, really. Began taking things from the patients. Small things. A child is easily overlooked and a child with a small trinket hidden in his bunched-up hand is just as easy to miss. Father's patients were poor, mainly, spending their savings for some procedure he could provide. I managed to collect whatever was shiny or ornamental, getting rid of it not long after so I wouldn't be found out.
I continued on this course until I was a young adult: stealing worthless items, helping father with his supplies and generally being kept away from the people we were around unless they were paying. Father didn't want us mixing with them.
Was eighteen when I was caught. Can't even remember what it was I was found with. Funny how things like that fall away. By this time my brother was turning into a bully like Father and Mother was a shell of a woman, reduced to nothing by her husband's temper and arrogance. Reckon I wanted to be caught.
His reaction was typically melodramatic. Banished me from his sight. Was happy to go. Was then I stole for the last time -- a small bag of medical supplies -- and set off for Iridine. Was a place the old man spoke of only with bitterness so was my guess I'd never be seen by him there. Settled in and found I could actually perform a few of the things I'd seen over and over. Reckon if you want to know what happened next you can ask me or the people near me.