Magnus Ciel - Chapter One

**10th Grade Student Magnus Ciel**

"Can you guys give me a break?" Magnus pleads nervously, backing into the corner of the school hallway. 

One of the bullies sneers, "If you had just given us the money when we first asked, you wouldn't be in this mess." 

As they loom closer, preparing to strike, a loud voice echoes from the hallway—"Hey, they're over here!" Suddenly, a teacher appears out of nowhere. The bullies freeze for a moment before panic sets in, and they scatter, leaving Magnus trembling in the corner.

**10th Grade Student Council Member Alex**

"Are you okay?" Alex rushes to Magnus's side, concern etched on her face as she helps him up. 

"You need to start standing up for yourself," she says gently. 

Magnus grits his teeth in frustration. "It's not as easy as it sounds," he replies, looking down at his sleeve, feeling like a shadow of himself. "I just wish there was something I could do... I feel so useless."

Alex notices the gloom settling over him and flashes a bright smile. "There you go with that gloomy look again. Cheer up! How about we go grab something to eat? I bet that'll lift your spirits!"

In an instant, Magnus's face lights up. "Yes! Let's go get some burgers! There's this amazing spot I know—we absolutely have to go!"

With a playful smirk, Alex quickens her pace to catch up, thrilled to see a flicker of joy in Magnus, even in the midst of his struggles.

*That Night*

After finishing their delicious meal, they step outside, and both comment on how late it has gotten. 

"We should start heading home," Alex suggests. 

"I'll walk you home," Magnus replies earnestly, wanting to ensure she arrives safely. 

She chuckles, teasing, "Are you really going to protect me with those muscles?" 

Embarrassed, Magnus strikes a fake macho pose. "Of course! Who could possibly defeat me?"

But just then, fate takes a turn. The very bullies who had tormented him earlier reappear, smirking as they taunt, "Looks like we have unfinished business!"

"Leave us alone!" Alex exclaims, trying to pull Magnus past them. 

One of the bullies grabs her wrist with a grip that feels nothing short of iron. "We've never liked your uppity attitude, Ms. Student Council," he scoffs, blocking their path.

In a burst of adrenaline, Magnus kicks the bully hard, and they both take off running. But as they dash away, a chilling, slimy force suddenly ensnares them, pulling them back. They stumble and turn around, eyes widening in horror at the sight before them—three monstrous figures looming menacingly, ready to strike.

Magnus's pulse thunders in his ears as his eyes dart to Alex, rooted in place. Their entire body trembles violently, their hands clenching and unclenching at their sides. Their mouth opens as if to speak, but no sound comes out. They're utterly frozen, a statue carved by fear.

Magnus swallows hard, his throat dry as sandpaper. The monsters loom closer, their twisted shapes barely outlined in the dim light, their eyes glowing with cruel amusement.

"Alex!" Magnus shouts, his voice raw and shaking. "Snap out of it! We need to move!"

But Alex doesn't budge. They're locked in a silent battle with their own terror, unable to break free.

Magnus's teeth clench as panic claws at his chest. I can't just stand here. His eyes dart wildly, searching for anything, anything, that might help them. The cold, broken pavement offers nothing but trash and shattered glass—until his gaze lands on a stick. It's rough and splintered, barely more than a piece of driftwood, but it's something.

He lunges for it, gripping it tightly in both hands, the wood biting into his palms. He plants himself firmly between Alex and the advancing figures, his legs trembling but steady enough to hold him.

The largest of the monsters—its body a grotesque blend of shadows and sinew—tilts its head, watching him. Its grin stretches impossibly wide, jagged teeth glinting in the faint light. The sound it makes next is low and guttural, a laugh that drips with mockery and disdain.

"And what," it says, its voice slithering like oil through the air, "are you going to do with that little stick?"

Magnus swallows, gripping the stick tighter until his knuckles turn white. His knees threaten to buckle, but he forces himself to stand tall. He knows he's no warrior, no hero—but if he can just buy them a sliver of time, just create one chance to escape, it'll be enough.

"If I can just make an opening..." he thinks desperately.

The monster doesn't wait for an answer. Its laughter crescendos, echoing off the alley walls. Then, with a sickening burst of speed, it closes the distance in the blink of an eye.

Magnus barely has time to react. He swings the stick with everything he has, a wild arc through the air, but it's hopeless. The monster ducks effortlessly, its laughter growing louder, crueler.

Before Magnus can recover, it snatches him by the collar and hoists him into the air like a rag doll. The stick clatters to the ground as he struggles, his breath catching in his throat. The monster leans in, its eyes burning with a sadistic light.

"Pathetic," it snarls, holding him effortlessly with one clawed hand. "You fight so hard, yet you tremble like a frightened child.

With a sickening crunch, the monster snaps the stick in two, tossing the broken pieces aside. Magnus gasps for air as the creature's grip tightens, his vision blurring at the edges.

Desperation flares hot in his chest, stronger than his fear. He seizes one of the broken pieces of the stick lying on the ground with his free hand, his fingers closing around it like a lifeline. With a guttural yell, he drives the sharp end into the monster's glowing eye.

The creature screams, a bone-rattling sound of rage and pain, and flings Magnus like a doll against the alley wall. His body hits the bricks with a sickening thud, the air knocked from his lungs. He crumples to the ground, coughing and gasping, his entire body screaming in agony.

But he doesn't let go of the stick. His vision swims as he struggles to his feet, one hand gripping the wall for balance. His knees shake under his weight, but he forces himself upright, the broken stick still clutched in his trembling hand.

The monster, now clutching its ruined eye, growls, its body writhing with rage. Magnus meets its gaze with gritted teeth, his chest heaving. He doesn't know how much longer he can hold out—but as long as he's still breathing, he'll fight.

"Come on!" Magnus shouts hoarsely, his voice cracking but defiant. He stumbles forward, raising the broken stick like a weapon.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

This isn't over.

A pulse of raw, electric energy surges through Magnus, spreading warmth and strength to his limbs. The broken stick in his hand begins to hum, faintly glowing with an eerie, bluish-white light that dances like flickering flames. He stares at it in disbelief, but there's no time to think. The air feels heavier, charged with power, and even the mocking monsters hesitate.

The largest of the three, a grotesque amalgamation of shadow and slime with glowing red eyes, narrows its gaze. Its smirk fades into something sharper—cautious, predatory.

The monster closest to him laughs, a sound like glass shattering inside a void. "What is this, mortal?" it sneers. "A spark of defiance? Your soul only grows more appetizing."

Before Magnus can respond, the creature lunges, impossibly fast, its massive claws reaching for him. He barely manages to sidestep, swinging the glowing stick wildly. The light arcs through the air, trailing faint embers, but the blow misses by inches.

The monster pivots with inhuman grace, slamming into Magnus with enough force to send him sprawling across the cracked pavement. His ribs ache from the impact, and the stick skitters from his grasp. The monster looms over him now, grinning, its foul breath like rotting meat.

"You fight... but you're weak. I'll savor breaking that spirit before I devour it."

Magnus coughs, struggling to rise, every muscle in his body screaming in pain. His hand gropes desperately for the stick, but it's just out of reach. This is it, he thinks, heart pounding. I tried... but this is it.

Then he hears it—a sound he thought he'd never hear again.

"Magnus!"

He turns his head, and there's Alex, trembling but no longer paralyzed. Their eyes are wide with terror, but they've picked up a jagged piece of concrete. They grip it like a lifeline, their knuckles white, their legs shaking but moving toward him.

Magnus's chest tightens. "Alex! Get back! It's not safe!"

But Alex doesn't stop. "I'm not leaving you!" they yell, voice cracking but resolute.

The monster snarls, snapping its head toward Alex, its amusement replaced by rage. "Another pest dares—"

Before it can finish, Magnus's hand closes around the stick. The second his fingers touch the glowing wood, a surge of light erupts, brighter this time, momentarily blinding everyone. The monster shrieks, staggering back, clawing at its face.

Magnus charges forward, the jagged stick in his trembling hand glowing faintly, its fragile light flickering like a dying ember. Every step feels heavier than the last, his body screaming in protest, but he pushes through the pain. Desperation drives him as he lunges, letting out a hoarse battle cry.

The stick slices through the air and connects with the monster's towering form. For a fleeting moment, there's resistance, and then a spray of dark, viscous ichor bursts from the wound. The creature howls, staggering back as shadowy tendrils writhe and retreat from the blow.

Magnus stumbles, gasping for air, a spark of hope flickering in his chest. But his triumph is short-lived.

The monster's glowing, malevolent eyes snap toward him, now blazing with fury. With a guttural snarl, it lashes out, its massive claws raking across Magnus's side. Pain detonates through his body as he crumples to the ground, blood spilling freely onto the cracked pavement.

His vision swims as he struggles to rise, but his strength is gone. He glances back toward Alex, trembling and wide-eyed. I've done all I can, he thinks bitterly. This is where it ends.

The monster looms over him now, clutching its wounded side. Despite the ichor dripping from its body, it straightens, its grin twisting into something even more cruel.

"Foolish little mortal," it sneers, its deep, rasping voice filled with contempt. "All that effort, all that sacrifice... and this is what you amount to?"

Magnus tries to move, but his body won't obey. His hands, slick with blood, claw weakly at the ground as the creature steps closer.

"You're nothing," it hisses, raising its massive foot and slamming it down on Magnus's head. The sharp edges of the pavement bite into his skin as the monster pins him there, its grotesque face inches away.

"Look at you," it growls, leaning in. Its rancid breath washes over him, thick with decay. "So broken. So fragile. How pitiful."

Magnus feels the strength draining from his body as the flicker of light in the stick fades completely, leaving only cold, suffocating darkness. He squeezes his eyes shut, bracing for the end.

But then—

A sudden rush of air sweeps through the alley, carrying with it a warmth that feels entirely out of place. The oppressive darkness that seemed so absolute begins to lift, replaced by a faint, golden glow.

Magnus's eyes flutter open as a sweet, intoxicating aroma fills his lungs. It's a floral scent, soft yet overwhelming, like the bloom of a thousand lotus flowers carried on a spring breeze. The monster stiffens, its claws still digging into Magnus, but its mocking grin falters.

Petals begin to descend from the air, glowing faintly as they swirl in intricate, deliberate patterns. At first, there are only a few, but then they multiply, filling the alley in a storm of delicate, radiant blossoms.

The monster steps back, its massive frame shrinking under the glow. Its confident sneer is gone, replaced by wide, panicked eyes that dart around the alley.

"No..." it growls, its voice trembling. "No, it can't be. Not you!"

The air hums with energy as a figure materializes amidst the cascading petals. They move with an elegance that defies comprehension, each step weightless yet deliberate, as if the ground itself bends to their will.

Their robes shimmer like liquid starlight, flowing and shifting with the golden light of the petals. Their face remains obscured, hidden by the swirling blossoms, but their presence alone radiates calm authority—a quiet, unshakable power.

When the figure speaks, their voice is soft yet unyielding, each word ringing like a chime in the still air. "Rest now. You've done enough."

Magnus blinks, his battered senses trying to process the overwhelming scene before him. His pain feels distant, his fear melting away under the figure's soothing words.

The monster, however, reacts differently. Its once-imposing form quivers violently, its claws scraping at the ground as it tries to retreat.

"Mercy!" it shrieks, its voice high-pitched and desperate. "I beg you, mercy! Please, forgive me!"

The figure doesn't respond. They lift a hand, their movements slow and deliberate, and the swirling petals obey. In an instant, they surge forward like a tidal wave, a radiant storm of light and blossoms that engulfs the monster completely.

The creature howls, its cries echoing through the alley as its shadowy form is consumed. Its massive frame collapses, writhing and clawing at the air before shrinking into nothingness.

Magnus watches through half-lidded eyes, the floral scent wrapping around him like a warm blanket. The storm of petals begins to fade, and the alley grows quiet once more.

The figure steps closer to him, their glowing presence softening. Magnus feels a hand—gentle but firm—rest on his shoulder. Their voice comes again, calm and reassuring.

"You're safe now. Rest."

Magnus's body finally gives in to the pull of unconsciousness. The last thing he sees is the soft glow of the petals, swirling in the air like a final goodbye, and the monster's trembling form disappearing into nothingness.

Darkness takes him, but this time, it's not cold or empty. It feels peaceful, as if the figure's words have wrapped him in a promise of safety.

And then, everything went silent.

Magnus sat up slowly, still feeling the strange aftereffects of what had happened. His head swam with a mix of confusion, awe, and lingering fear. The pressure from the creature, the rush of power that had surged through him—it felt like a dream, but he knew it wasn't. As he looked around, he found himself in a peaceful, ethereal space surrounded by lotus flowers and soft light. It felt like a realm of its own, distant from the world they had just fought to survive in.

Alex was still unconscious beside him, but their breath was steady, and they seemed unharmed. Magnus turned his attention back to the woman who stood before him. She radiated an air of both gentleness and unimaginable strength, like she could see right through him there was an undeniable weight to her gaze—a weight that made him feel as though he were standing on the edge of something far larger than he could ever comprehend.

"You are safe," she said again, her voice gentle yet carrying the authority of someone who had seen the true depths of the world. 

Magnus didn't know what to say. Everything in him screamed for answers, but there was a silence in her presence that seemed to demand patience. She smiled slightly, reading his thoughts without a word.

"I am called Nara," the woman finally spoke, her tone carrying a sense of weight, as though her name meant something far more than a mere title. "You've encountered a creature of the Voidborn. They are born from the cracks between worlds, beings that were once human but are now twisted by the remnants of forgotten realms. They are nightmares made real, roaming between the boundaries of existence, consuming everything in their path."

Magnus blinked, still trying to process her words. "The Voidborn...?"

"Yes," Nara nodded, as if her explanation was too simple for someone like him to grasp immediately. "The creatures you faced are the product of the Great War, a conflict between realms that shattered the very fabric of reality. They exist in the space between the realms—their souls are fractured, pulled apart by forces beyond even their understanding."

Magnus' mind raced as he struggled to make sense of it all. "But... how did I fight them? I should have been dead. I barely landed a hit."

She spoke again, her voice calm but resonating with power. "What you experienced was not just luck, Magnus. It was the awakening of your soul's true potential. You tapped into something much deeper than you realize, something that very few can ever truly access."

Magnus blinked, trying to process her words. "My soul?" His voice was hoarse, disbelief still coating his every word. "What do you mean? How did I... do that?"

Nara's eyes softened with understanding, as if she had expected this confusion. She took a step closer, her presence steadying him, as though she could calm the whirlwind of questions inside him.

"In that moment of life or death, your soul awakened. You became aware of it—the very core of your existence. Most people live their entire lives without ever truly realizing their soul is more than just a collection of thoughts and emotions. It's the essence of who you are. Your soul is the root of everything that makes you, you—your will, your strength, your very reality. When you felt your life slipping away, you somehow broke through the barrier between your mind and your soul."

Magnus felt his chest tighten as Nara's words hit him like a physical blow. "But I don't understand... How did I do that? I just swung a stick and it... it felt like I was doing something I shouldn't have been able to do."

She smiled faintly, as though she knew he wouldn't fully understand at first. "That's the beauty of it. In that moment, you didn't just react. You understood. You connected to the true nature of the creature, not as an enemy, but as a being of essence, like you. And through that connection, you were able to alter its form, even for just a moment. That's the power of soul awareness."

Magnus furrowed his brow, still trying to grasp the depth of what she was saying. "Soul awareness? You're saying that my soul... can feel other souls? And that I can use that to fight?"

"Exactly," Nara replied, nodding with a sense of approval. "You don't just fight by physical strength or mindless rage. You fight by understanding. The essence of every living thing is connected, whether they are human, creature, or something else entirely. Once you awaken to your soul, you gain the ability to perceive those connections—to see the fundamental nature of the world around you. And from that understanding, you can act. You can mold reality, not through brute force, but by recognizing the inherent structure of everything around you."

Magnus tried to wrap his mind around this, his heart racing as he thought about what she had just said. "So... I can see other people's souls? And... change them?"

Nara's expression grew more serious, and she stepped closer to him. "In a way, yes. But it is not a power to be taken lightly. The more you understand a soul, the more you become aware of its potential. You could reshape that connection, but it comes at a cost. Every time you alter something, every time you manipulate a soul's structure, it takes something from you as well. The power you wield is as much a burden as it is a gift. You cannot change another without giving something of yourself in return."

Magnus felt a shiver run down his spine. "What do you mean by... 'give something of myself'?"

Nara's eyes darkened, a flicker of sadness crossing her face. "Your soul is yours, Magnus. But once you start connecting with others' souls—especially the broken, twisted ones—you risk losing parts of yourself. Every action you take that alters the fabric of reality demands a price. You must keep your soul balanced, or you risk losing your very identity."

The weight of her words settled heavily on him. He had already felt the strange pull of power during the fight, the deep connection that had allowed him to sense the monster's very being. But the idea that it came at a cost, that it could take from him, was more than a little unsettling.

Nara express. "Your journey has just begun, Magnus. To fully understand your power, you must first understand the core of your soul—the Origin of who you are. But beware: there are others out there who have already walked this path and corrupted it. There are those who would seek to use the understanding of souls for their own gain, to manipulate and twist the essence of beings for their own purposes. You must learn to master it, or else the power will consume you."

Magnus closed his eyes for a moment, the weight of her words pressing on him. He could feel something deep within himself—a stirring of purpose, but also of uncertainty. How could he possibly control such a force?

Nara extended her hand, and Magnus felt a warmth radiating from her. "Rest now, Magnus. You have much to learn. But the road ahead will be difficult. And remember, you will never face this alone."

As her hand reached out to him, Magnus hesitated for only a moment before taking it. He felt a surge of energy, a strange calm settling in his chest as his mind processed everything he had learned.