Arin trudged home, his steps heavy, as the harsh reality of the academy pressed down on him. The day had felt endless. The moment he entered the academy gates, the stares and whispered remarks about his non-gifted status were like arrows piercing his resolve. The faces of his classmates, many of whom were gifted with magic from birth, mocked him with every glance. Arin had learned to endure their disdain, but today it stung more than usual. Maybe it was the weight of his failure to even show the slightest hint of magic, or maybe it was the realization that no matter how hard he tried, he would never belong to their world.
But, as he passed through the alleyways leading home, something shifted. There was an unusual emptiness in his heart, neither joy nor sadness. It was almost like a blank canvas, waiting for something to be painted on it. He couldn't quite place it, but there was a strange calmness in the air, as though something was about to change.
When he stepped into his small, dimly lit room, it felt suffocating, the air thick with the scent of old wood and stale food. It was a stark contrast to the grandeur of the academy — a place that seemed like a distant dream, far removed from his reality. He closed the door softly behind him, leaning against it for a moment, staring at the chipped walls and broken furniture. His parents' illness had drained them, and their medical bills were overwhelming. He could hear the faint sound of his mother coughing from the adjacent room, a constant reminder of his helplessness.
Arin sank onto the cot, his legs aching from the long walk. His hands trembled slightly as he removed his boots, setting them by the bedside. He sat there, in the silence of the room, his mind racing. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the noise in his head, the relentless pressure of failure that seemed to follow him everywhere.
"What if I can never awaken magic? What if I'm truly worthless?" he thought, but immediately dismissed the notion. He had promised himself he would never give in to despair. His thoughts shifted to his family again — their suffering, the endless cycle of poverty and pain that surrounded them. He had nothing but his resolve, and even that seemed fragile in the face of overwhelming odds.
But then, something inside him clicked. "If I can't have magic, I'll make my body the weapon."
It was as if a switch had been flipped in his mind. For the first time in a long while, Arin felt a spark of determination. "Magic is tied to the body... that much I can sense. If I can't awaken it, I'll strengthen myself. I'll learn martial arts. I'll fight with everything I have."
But even as he embraced this new resolve, a strange sensation rippled through him, like an electric shock running through his brain. He gasped, his body jerking involuntarily. The sharpness of the shock was brief but unmistakable, and he could swear it was similar — not exactly, but similar — to the black lightning he had felt in the forest. It was as though something had awakened within him, something just beneath the surface. He could feel it, faint but undeniable. His heart raced. Was this magic? Could it be?
Arin shook his head. No. He couldn't let himself get distracted by fleeting sensations. "I'll solve this later... but for now, my family needs me."
His resolve hardened. He would train his body, fight for his family, and study everything he could about magic. The mystery of his own power would wait, for now. His family came first