The Gifts were children descended by Givers or blessed by them at a young age.
The Givers were children descended by an ancient and crueler form of being that nobody hated themselves enough to learn about. There were multiple Givers that people care enough about to worship in hopes of becoming Gifts. They were foolish, everybody knows that Gifts were different. If you met a Gift or Giver, you'd be sure to know by their radiance.
Up to a couple decades ago, Givers and Gifts were loved in their divinity.
But then everything changed.
Givers were called demonic and were ostracized for being non-humane. Gifts went down with them, being thought of as more demon than human.
Ever since their abandonment, most people didn't dare to worship them. Some tried to build temples and statues, but they were quickly torn down. Now, Givers and Gifts were only legends. Myths that are deemed harmful to believe in.
Isaiah felt that these thoughts were worthless. Givers and Gifts weren't an issue for him, so why would he waste his time chasing a foolish belief?
But, Noah was the definition of a Gift. He was unforgettable and admirable. Isaiah found himself being obsessed with learning more about this intriguing man. How could someone see him and still not believe in that religious nonsense?
"Don't try to ridicule me. It certainly won't work." Isaiah said, deciding that Noah was playing a sick prank by claiming to be a Gift.
Noah - who obviously found some humor in this situation - burst out in laughter.
"Sure, Don't you have what you came for? Stop humoring me." Noah presented a good idea. Isaiah scoffed and walked away with the sac.
Isaiah found his way back to the woman's bookstore. Her daughter was sitting on a nearby chair inside.
"Here." Isaiah said, putting the sac on the counter. Both of their faces lit up.
"Oh, thank you Mister! Thank you greatly!" The daughter said, standing up and walking over to Isaiah who only shrugged. The girl stood on her tiptoes and planted a short kiss on his cheek. Isaiah's face immediately scrunched up in disgust.
"Amelia! He is a royal, not one of your boys!" Her mother scolded her. Amelia giggled and hid at her mother's feet, under the table. Her mother sighed in defeat.
"I'm so sorry about her, sometimes she can be head over heels at the sight of an easy-on-the-eyes young man." The woman joked, Isaiah only nodded in understanding, not bothering to fake a smile.
"So, how can I repay you?" The woman asked, smiling widely.
"No need, I've got more money than I have lives." Isaiah responded, the woman raised an eyebrow, not used to Isaiah joking.
"Surely there's something I can give you other than gold." She insisted.
Isaiah figured that getting something out of this interaction would be beneficial. He also needed to know what information was so great that nobody else in the public could see.
"There's only one thing I really want." Isaiah confessed. The woman leaned in, listening intently, and the girl peeked her head out from under the counter.
"Your mother's book."