Chapter 1
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The Academy of Light
The academy halls echoed with the chatter of students, their voices bouncing off the stone walls. Kaelen kept his head down, his footsteps soft as he walked through the corridors, eyes averted. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself. Not today.
Around him, the other students wore their robes with pride—robes that symbolized their talent in holy magic, their devotion to Leon, the god-like figure that granted them power. Every day, Kaelen watched as they performed miracles: conjuring light, healing wounds, channeling power that only those with true faith could wield.
Kaelen had no such faith.
"Hey, Kaelen!" The sharp voice of Aldric, one of the top students in the academy, echoed down the hall. Kaelen winced but didn’t stop walking. Aldric was always looking for a reason to humiliate him, and Kaelen wasn’t in the mood.
"Are you deaf, loser? I’m talking to you!"
Kaelen’s shoulders tensed as he felt a hand grip the back of his tunic, yanking him backward. He stumbled, barely keeping his balance as he turned to face Aldric and his group of friends. They all wore the same sneer, the same arrogant smirks.
"Still can’t use magic, huh?" Aldric said, his voice dripping with mockery. He waved his hand, and a faint glow appeared around his palm—a display of holy magic that Aldric wielded with ease. "I guess some of us were just born worthless."
Kaelen’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He had long since learned that fighting back only made things worse. Aldric thrived on tormenting others, and Kaelen was his favorite target.
"Leave him alone, Aldric," a voice called out from behind the group. Kaelen’s heart sank. It was Lira, one of the few students who had ever shown him kindness. Her soft blue eyes were full of sympathy as she stepped forward.
Aldric turned, flashing her a grin. "Oh, come on, Lira. We’re just having fun." He waved his hand again, sending a harmless flicker of light toward Kaelen’s face, just enough to make him flinch. "You shouldn’t waste your time on someone who can’t even summon a spark."
Lira frowned, but Kaelen could see the hesitation in her eyes. She wasn’t going to press the issue. She never did.
Kaelen clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as the group laughed and walked away. The tension in his chest didn’t ease, even after they were gone.
"Kaelen, are you all right?" Lira asked softly, stepping closer. Her concern was genuine, but it only made Kaelen feel worse.
"I’m fine," he muttered, avoiding her gaze. He wasn’t fine. He hadn’t been fine since the day his village burned, since the day his aunt and uncle died.
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The Training Grounds
Later that day, Kaelen stood on the academy's training grounds, watching as the other students practiced their magic. Some conjured barriers of light, while others summoned radiant weapons, their faces full of concentration as they channeled their power.
Kaelen’s chest tightened with frustration. He had tried for years to summon holy magic, to connect with Leon, the god that so many worshipped. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t do it. His heart rejected it, even if his mind refused to admit why.
"Why can’t I do this?" he muttered under his breath, clenching his fists. He had come to the academy to get stronger, to find a way to take revenge on Akahi, the demon who had destroyed his home. But how could he fight back when he couldn’t even summon a flicker of light?
"Maybe I’m just not cut out for this."
A flicker of anger sparked inside him, but he pushed it down, just like he always did. He couldn’t afford to let his emotions control him. Not here. Not now.
But the thought lingered.
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In the Dormitory
That night, Kaelen sat on his bed in the academy’s dormitory, staring at the ceiling. He could hear the other students outside, laughing and talking, but he didn’t join them. He never did. Instead, his mind wandered back to the village, to the faces of his aunt and uncle, to the fire that had consumed everything he loved.
"If Leon is really a god," he whispered, "why didn’t he save them?"
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The question gnawed at him, but he didn’t have an answer. All he knew was that no matter how hard he tried, holy magic wouldn’t come to him. And without magic, he was nothing in this world.
The frustration built, his thoughts swirling in a dark spiral. He had tried to connect with elemental spirits as well, thinking that if holy magic wouldn’t work, maybe elemental magic would. But the spirits had rejected him too. No matter what he did, no matter how hard he pushed, he remained powerless.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Kaelen sat up, his heart sinking. It wasn’t common for anyone to visit him, especially not this late.
He got up, opened the door, and the sight that greeted him was an envelope. He hesitated for a moment, then bent down and picked it up. His hands trembled as he opened the envelope and pulled out the letter inside.
The words on the page sent a chill through his spine.
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The Ultimatum
The letter read:
"Kaelen,
By order of the academy, you are hereby notified that you must show progress in either elemental magic or holy magic within one week. Failure to do so will result in your immediate expulsion from the Academy of Light. As a student, it is expected that you demonstrate adequate talent in one of the core disciplines.
—The Headmaster"
Kaelen stared at the letter in disbelief, his hands trembling. Expelled? He had known he was falling behind, but to be cast out? His throat tightened as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. If he left the academy, what would become of him? How could he ever fulfill his vow of revenge against Akahi if he had no place to learn, no place to grow stronger?
His mind raced as he sat down on his bed, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. Desperation clawed at him.
"I have to do this," he muttered to himself, the weight of the letter heavy in his hands. "I can’t fail... not now."
But deep down, the familiar doubt began to gnaw at him again. How? How could he possibly succeed in a week when he hadn’t made any progress in years?
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The Next Morning
Kaelen arrived at class the next day, the ultimatum hanging over his head like a guillotine. The lessons went on as usual, but Kaelen barely heard the teacher’s voice. That is, until Professor Marrick began to explain the fundamentals of holy magic.
"Holy magic," Marrick began, pacing the front of the classroom, "is drawn from the divine. It relies entirely on the faith of the caster in the being they draw power from. The stronger your faith, the stronger the magic. However," he stopped and glanced at Kaelen, who quickly looked away, "without true belief, it is impossible to harness."
Kaelen felt his stomach twist. He knew that already. He had tried to believe in Leon, but something inside him rejected the idea of placing his faith in a god that had allowed his village to burn.
"Elemental magic, on the other hand," Marrick continued, "is different. It comes from the spirits of the natural world. Fire, water, wind, and earth—all can be wielded by those who form a connection with these spirits. Unlike holy magic, elemental magic does not require belief. It requires a partnership. A balance."
Kaelen’s heart pounded in his chest. He had tried to connect with the spirits, but they had all rejected him. Why?
"However," Marrick added, "the spirits are not bound to any one person. If they reject you, it is because you are not yet in harmony with them."
Not yet in harmony. The words echoed in Kaelen’s mind as frustration boiled within him. Not in harmony? How was he supposed to find harmony with spirits when his entire life had been filled with chaos?
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A Desperate Attempt
Kaelen spent every spare moment in the grove, desperately trying to summon an elemental spirit. He called for the spirits of flame, of wind, of water—any spirit that would answer. But every time, the air around him remained empty, silent.
His mind wandered back to the letter. The deadline loomed over him, and with each failed attempt, the knot of desperation tightened in his chest.
"Why won’t you answer me?" he shouted into the night, his voice cracking with frustration.
But the spirits didn’t respond.
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Flashbacks to the Past
As Kaelen sat alone in the darkness of the grove, his thoughts drifted to memories of his parents. The pain they had inflicted on him, the fear that had once filled his life, all came rushing back.
His father’s cruel voice echoed in his ears. "You’ll never amount to anything. Weak. Worthless."
His mother’s cold eyes, watching as he cried out in pain, never lifting a finger to help.
And then, his aunt and uncle—kind, loving people who had tried to heal his broken heart. Their voices were softer, filled with warmth. His aunt’s comforting words, telling him he could be anything he wanted if he only tried.
But their kindness hadn’t saved them. Nothing had saved them.
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Flashback
He sat in the corner of the room. Alone. He had just been tortured by his parents again. He had lost count of how many times it had happened. He couldn’t remember, or rather, he didn’t want to remember. He sat there, trembling, when he heard a sound—a voice from far away.
It said something like, "May our god give us power, holy slingshot!" He couldn’t be sure of the exact words. But after that, Holy Protectors entered his small room.
They took him outside. For the first time in years, he could feel the sunlight, smell the fresh air. After some time, they left him at his aunt and uncle’s home. They gave him food, cared for him, and taught him kindness. It felt like a dream.
The dream lasted until he turned nine, when everything faded. Akahi attacked the village, leaving nothing but devastation. Kaelen had watched helplessly as his village burned, his aunt and uncle trapped inside a building that was engulfed in flames. He had screamed for help.
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He snapped back to reality, breathing heavily as he stood up, sweat dripping down his face.