The moonlight washed over the roofs of Ryuki City like silver fire. Neon lights glowed in the distance, and the soft hum of magic trains rumbled beneath the stars.
Auren sat silently on the roof of his house, legs folded, arms clasped around his knees, staring at the radiance of the sky.
I hope I'll be a mage soday, he thought. No... no, not just a mage. I want to surpass Veon and Kaen, so Father pays attention to . So the people of this town regard as soone important, he said with a hopeful smile, gazing at the sky.
The deep thought was crushing him. Auren's voice shook.
He looked down, seeing his hopeless hands. "Why? Why don't they care about ?" His breath caught.
"Why do my brothers and my dad treat as though I'm not here? Like whether I'm alive or dead, it doesn't make any difference?"
A hole in my heart... making hollow.
He stared at his hands, roughened from kitchen labor, wiping guns, repairing clothes, and lugging groceries. "Even if I'm not a mage... haven't I done everything I could for this family? Didn't I contribute in ways that mattered? Why do they treat like nothing?"
His eyes narrowed, lips trembling as a single tear struggled to fall. "I feel like a shadow in my own ho. Even the children younger than can use magic easily.
I just turned fifteen. Veon is hardly a year and a half older than , and already he's being hailed as a top mage."
His heart twisted with unspoken desperation. "I just... I wish to be sothing great too," he said softly, looking up with desperation.
"Hey, sky... that's enough already."
Morning arose. The skies above the city were covered with clouds, like the failure of Ryuki.
Auren woke quietly, washed himself, wrapped a scarf around his head, and set out for the market as he did every morning. Another unwanted day.
The city was already active—hovercarts floated low as shopkeepers held up enchanted fruits, potion scrolls, and mage-crafted items.
Auren kept his head down, clutching a small note his mother had prepared: tomatoes, rice, carrots, and so sea herbs.
As he approached the central square, a cluster of kids played in front of a floating market stall. One of them noticed Auren and cracked a fake, evil smile.
"Hey! Look, the magicless Ryuki!" one of them shouted.
Another boy, his eyes glinting with a wicked grin, quickly chanted a spell and summoned a little magical creature—an orange monkey fighter with blazing fists.
"Go! Show him your moves!"
The monkey charged at Auren and landed a gentle but fast blow to his chest. He stumbled back, losing the carrots he had just purchased. Thud! He crashed into a wall on the street.
"Wha? A Ryuki who can't even protect himself? Maybe his dad didn't give him powers!"
Passing shoppers giggled softly. No one stopped it.
Immobile, sha seared through him. Then, out of the fog of laughter...
Breathing heavily. Why are you doing this to all the ti? He held back his tears so they wouldn't fall.
A voice rose from the street. "Mr. Ryden has arrived!"
People turned their heads as attention shifted. Auren froze.
Ryden Ryuki is passing by.
"Father?"
He passed by—tall and geared up, with a detail of patrol magistrates behind him. Auren's eyes flashed—perhaps he'd intervene. Perhaps he'd tell them to leave him alone.
Ryden caught a glimpse of the scene.
Then turned away.
And kept going.
"Why, Father...?" Auren stared at him, walking away, eyes wide, hands trembling. "Father..."
Sppaaahh!A kick landed on Auren's face. His head slamd against the wall. Blood trickled down his face.
Cold and frozen, Auren could only watch as his father's form disappeared into the crowd. His heart shrieked. He couldn't move.
A sudden voice bood through the square.
"HEY! That's enough!" The monkey vanished in a blink of spelllight.
"Run, run! There's the carrot man!" one kid yelled. Another turned, showed the shopkeeper his butt, smacked it, and ran off laughing.
The shopkeeper approached Auren and helped him up. "Don't let punks like them get to you, kid."
Auren nodded, whispering, "Thank you," and walked away.
Wiping the blood from his face, holding back tears, breathing heavily... Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn novel[f]ire
Shopkeeper: "I hope this boy finds peace."
In the middle of the crowd, a man crossed his arms with a sympathetic face of sympathy.
Here, only a person like him gets hurt. Only the poor, weak, orphaned, lonely ones get bullied. And people don't care unless it's their own family.
The carrot stall shopkeeper raised his finger at the retreating boys. "Go pick on soone your size!"
The children scattered, laughing.
Holding the bruised carrots, Auren continued down the street. As he pushed through the throng, sothing—or rather, soone—caught his attention.
That old man again.
The one from the market the day before. The one with the unusual voice and worn robes. He was walking at the edge of the crowd.
Auren's breath caught. I have to ask him. What was he saying yesterday?
He stepped forward to pursue him.
Just as he did, a blast of wind swept by, sending a hat flying off soone's head—smacking Auren squarely in the face.
"Ah—!"
He removed the hat and examined it. Stuffed within the brim was a crumpled piece of parchnt. In neat, flowing letters:
"Hollow Hill. Midnight. Power awaits those who dare."
His eyes went wide. Was this ant for ?
Auren gripped the hat, heart thumping. The address pointed to a forbidden mountain range outside the city—the very realm where spirits were said to dwell.
That evening, he ca ho late. Covered in dust. Clothes torn.
The mont he entered, his mother erged from the kitchen.
"Auren! Oh gods—" she gasped. "What happened? Are you hurt?!"
Auren tried to speak but couldn't. His voice cracked, and all the hurt, humiliation, and rejection poured out.
He collapsed into his mother's arms.
And wept.
She held him close. "It's alright. Are you okay?"
Within, Auren felt a warmth he hadn't known in years.
How could I forget? She's the only one who loves .
He wept.
His mother. She was the only one who ever noticed him.
The only one who rembered he was there.
And in that instant, buried in her arms, he made a silent vow:
I will go to Hollow Hill. I will transcend what they told I would ever be.I will show all of them—those who laughed at , ignored ...Power awaits those who dare.
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