After finishing their chores and enjoying a hearty lunch, Finn and the other children made their way to the study hall. The room felt a little imposing to him—the rows of wooden desks stretched out in neat lines, and sunlight streamed through tall windows, casting long, golden patches across the floor. T
he rising chatter of students filled the space, echoing off the stone walls and swirling around Finn, crowding his thoughts. Amid the noise and the size of the room, Finn couldn’t help but feel a buzz of both excitement and nerves.
He entered with Cosmo, Talia, Nyx, and Wren by his side, their chatter light as they discussed the events of the day. All around them, other students of the orphanage filtered into the room, some finding their usual spots and others whispering excitedly about the day’s lesson.
As they approached the front of the classroom, Finn’s anticipation spiked. Would today finally be the day? He hadn’t found his magic yet, but maybe now, with his friends around him, it would come to him naturally.
Settling into their seats, the banter between Cosmo and Wren helped ease Finn’s tension. Cosmo shot him a grin, as if to say, You’ve got this, while Wren, in his usual style, was making a show of pretending to fall asleep before the lesson even started.
The door to the study hall opened, and Alistair entered with his typical calm yet commanding presence. The room, filled with the idle chatter of students, fell silent almost immediately.
“Good afternoon,” Alistair greeted them, his sharp eyes scanning the room. “You’ll notice we have some new faces among us today. Welcome to your first lesson. Don’t worry, you’ll find your
footing soon enough.”
Without further delay, Alistair raised a hand, and with a flick of his wrist, a small orb of light appeared, floating above his palm. It glowed with a gentle radiance, but before the students could fully appreciate it, the orb suddenly burst, transforming into a shower of sparks that spiraled through the air before fizzling out.
The display was simple, yet it captivated the room. Finn felt excitement bud in his chest, butterflies fluttering as he watched the magic dance.
Alistair smiled faintly. “Magic, in its purest form, is energy. It is not something you control through force, but through understanding and connection.”
At first, Finn had taken to Alistair’s teachings with enthusiasm. Every day he came to class eager to learn, sure that his magic would reveal itself to him soon.
But as the days wore on, his excitement began to shift. His classmates seemed to master their spells effortlessly, each of them growing stronger with every lesson.
Cosmo was becoming proficient with his constellation magic, often showing off small clusters of glowing stars that would hover around him like constellations in the night sky.
Nyx, with her quiet focus, conjured winds that danced gracefully, and Wren, with his usual bravado, was manipulating droplets of water with playful ease.
For Finn, though, it was different. Every time he reached for magic, it slipped away, as though there was an invisible wall he couldn’t break through. The feeling of excitement slowly faded, replaced by a nagging frustration that grew with each passing day.
He practiced, he focused, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t connect to the magic the way his friends did.
At night, Finn would lie awake, questioning himself. Why couldn’t he do it? The rational part of him—the older part of him—tried to stay calm. He’d only just started, after all, and learning magic took time.
But the younger part of him, the one that felt every bit of his frustration and jealousy, began to boil over. The other students were moving forward, while he remained stuck.
Alistair’s words often echoed in his mind. “Magic is everywhere. It flows through the air, through the earth, and through every living being. But to wield it, you have to be attuned to that flow. It is not about force; it’s about connection.”
Finn understood the theory. He’d memorized every word Alistair had taught them. But when it came to practice, he couldn’t produce anything more than a fleeting flicker of power.
One day, Finn sought out Alistair in private, frustration finally pushing him to ask for guidance.
“I just… I don’t understand,” Finn admitted, his voice quiet but tense. “Everyone else is finding their magic, and I can’t seem to get anything right. It’s like there’s this wall, and I’m stuck behind it.”
Alistair nodded thoughtfully, studying Finn for a moment before responding. “Magic isn’t always something that answers immediately. Every type, every affinity, has its own nature, its own… rhythm. My magic, for instance—light magic—came naturally to me once I attuned to it. But finding that attunement? That took time and patience.”
He placed a reassuring hand on Finn’s shoulder. “I know it’s difficult, especially with everyone around you moving ahead. But you have to allow yourself to find that connection on your own terms. Your affinity, your magic… it’s waiting, but it can’t be forced. Sometimes, you have to hurry up and wait.”
Finn looked down, still wrestling with his frustration. “But what if it never happens?”
Alistair’s eyes softened. “It will. You may have had a life before this, Finn, but in this one, you’re still growing. Still discovering who you are. That wall you feel might just be the tension between who you were and who you’re becoming. When you’re ready to bridge that, I have no doubt your magic will answer.”
By the end of the second week, Finn’s frustration had reached a breaking point. He could hardly stand to watch his friends practice anymore, each of them advancing while he stayed trapped in place.
Every failed attempt sent a sting of humiliation through him, and his ears burned with frustration as he watched their spells take shape, smooth and powerful. His stomach dropped with the weight of his own incompetence, each misfire or lack of progress making him feel smaller.
The lessons he had once looked forward to now filled him with dread. He would take his place among the others, hopeful for a breakthrough, only to end up feeling the same invisible wall blocking him, keeping his magic just out of reach.
It gnawed at him during each exercise, every lesson, until he could barely hold back his resentment. He clenched his fists under the desk, his knuckles whitening as he fought to keep his disappointment hidden.
Each day that passed made the whispers in his mind louder, insisting that he was falling behind, that he was weak, that the others probably saw him as nothing but a failure. And the more he tried to push through, the more elusive his magic seemed to become, as if slipping farther away with each frustrated attempt.
The ache of it grew unbearable. He wanted so badly to feel what they felt, to wield his own magic with confidence. But instead, he felt only the hollow echo of his own efforts, his patience fraying with every lesson. Each day, he watched his friends grow stronger, their magic blooming naturally, while he remained stuck—chasing a spark that never came.
One day, during a particularly difficult session, Finn found himself sitting at the back of the class, his hands clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white as he watched the others practice.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
His eyes followed the swirling stars above Cosmo’s head, the graceful winds conjured by Nyx, and the droplets of water hovering in the air at Wren’s command. They made it look so easy, and yet, for Finn, magic might as well have been an illusion.
The sting of failure burned hot in his chest. His ears rang, his head buzzed, and before he knew it, he’d pushed out of his seat, stumbling out of the classroom.
His feet moved of their own accord, carrying him to the courtyard where the open sky loomed overhead. He tried to calm himself, to take a breath, but the cool breeze did nothing to suppress the storm inside him.
Why couldn’t he do it? Why was it so easy for everyone else, but not for him?
He gritted his teeth, his breathing shallow, his vision blurring as every failed attempt and every mocking voice in his mind replayed in a vicious loop. His fingers twitched, aching to feel something, anything to prove he wasn’t powerless.
New Status Alert: Brooding. Causes: Self-doubt, envy, suppressed anger. Suggested Remedy: Calm down and reassess
“Finn? Are you okay?” Cosmo’s voice pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts.
Finn looked up, eyes narrowed, at his friend’s concerned expression. Cosmo’s usual bright energy was dimmed with worry, his constellation magic still subtly swirling around him, casting faint glows like stars hovering in the evening sky.
Get a load of this freaking guy, Finn thought bitterly, a half-snarl curling his lips. He probably thinks he’s so much better than me, looking down at me like I’m some pitiful failure.
“Leave me alone,” Finn muttered, his voice cold and tight.
Cosmo’s face fell, a flicker of hurt crossing his features. “Finn… I just want to help. I’m worried about you—”
“I SAID LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!” Finn’s voice cracked as he shouted, his words tearing from him with a ferocity he barely recognized. His eyes filled with hot, angry tears, blurring his vision, and he tried to wipe them away, but his hands were shaking.
“I don’t… need your pity.” The words came out barely above a whisper, but each one felt like a weight pressing down on him.
His heart hammered in his chest, pounding so hard he could barely breathe. Each negative thought, every whisper of failure, every feeling of inadequacy crowded his mind, suffocating him as he spiraled deeper into the dark storm inside.
And then… something cracked within him. A raw, volatile energy surged up from deep inside, racing through his veins with a blinding intensity. His skin prickled as his body vibrated with a force he couldn’t contain, couldn’t control.
The world around him seemed to darken, the air thickening as static crackled in the space around him, sending an electric hum through the courtyard.
“Finn!” Cosmo’s voice sounded distant, but Finn could barely hear him over the pounding in his ears.
He glanced down and realized his hands were glowing—a wild, chaotic light of purple electricity dancing around his fingers, arcing across his skin. His anger had become something physical, something alive, and it surged out of him like a storm breaking free of its chains.
Without meaning to, Finn felt himself lifting off the ground. The purple electricity coalesced beneath him, forming a swirling, stormy cloud that lifted him higher, cradling him in its chaotic embrace.
It pulsed with his anger, mirroring the storm within as he hovered in the air, arcs of energy snapping around him. The courtyard was awash in the eerie purple glow, the energy flaring out, threatening to consume everything in its path.
For the first time, Finn felt powerful—but that power was terrifying, a force he didn’t understand and couldn’t control. The emotions he’d bottled up, the frustration, the resentment, and the helplessness, all poured out in that torrent of magic.
He couldn’t hold it in. The storm was his, but it was consuming him just as much as he was wielding it.
Finn floated above the courtyard, arcs of chaotic purple energy crackling wildly around him, his entire body tense and coiled like a spring about to snap. The world below felt distant, blurred by the storm raging around him.
His mind swirled with fear and anger, each negative thought amplifying the energy, his magic pushing him farther from reality, from control, from everything he knew to be himself.
His mind spiraled as he tried to make sense of it. The magic didn’t feel like him—not the part he knew or understood. The power was wild, untamed, and relentless, and it flooded his senses, muting everything but the erratic pulse of energy.
It was like looking into a dark mirror, seeing a reflection that didn’t quite belong to him. Is this… me? Am I this… chaotic?
The thought sent a spike of panic through him, and his power flared, sending arcs of energy striking the ground, leaving scorch marks and splintered stone in its wake.
WARNING: Emotional Spike Detected! Your magical output may exceed safe levels. Risk of accidental discharge imminent.
Another message appeared.
New Quest: Control the Chaos. Objective: Reign in your newfound power. Hint: Focus on what grounds you
“Finn!” Alistair’s voice cut through the chaos, a thread of calm anchoring him momentarily. The warmth of Alistair’s light magic reached him, forming a golden barrier around the other children, deflecting the wild strikes of Finn’s chaotic energy.
Alistair’s tone was steady, and Finn could feel something different, like an invisible warmth wrapping around him. His presence was soothing, an anchor in the midst of Finn’s chaotic surge. Alistair stepped forward, extending his hand as soft, radiant light enveloped the courtyard, casting a protective shield around the other children. The golden glow shimmered, absorbing each wild arc of Finn’s power effortlessly.
“It’s alright, Finn,” Alistair’s voice rang out, both calm and commanding. “You’re not alone in this. Remember that your magic doesn’t control you—you control it.”
In the midst of the chaos, Finn caught a glimpse of movement. Through the haze of his power, he saw Talia stepping forward, determination flickering in her eyes. She pushed through Alistair’s shield, her small form almost swallowed by the glow of Finn’s energy.
“Talia, wait!” Alistair called, but she didn’t stop.
Every instinct screamed at her to turn back, but Talia pushed forward, each step steady and sure. The chaotic energy whipped at her, lashing the air with sparks of purple, and she felt the sting of it against her skin. She shielded her face, but her eyes remained fixed on Finn, her fear overtaken by resolve.
“Finn!” she called, her voice shaking but insistent. “You don’t have to do this alone!”
Finn barely heard her. His vision was obscured, his thoughts a storm of doubt and anger. But then he felt something new—different from Alistair’s light, different from the chaotic surge within him. It was a soft touch, warm and grounding, and he blinked, drawn to it like a lifeline.
He looked down to see Talia standing beneath him, her hand outstretched, her gaze unwavering. “Finn, look at me,” she said, her voice quiet but unbreakable. “You’re still you. This power… it doesn’t have to be all that you are.”
Her words pierced through the chaos, resonating with a part of him he’d thought was lost. But even as he reached toward that calm, the storm fought back, the energy surging once more, twisting in defiance.
Talia felt the sting of the magic, her skin tingling as it flared dangerously close, but she didn’t pull back. “Finn, please!” she cried, stepping closer, her hand brushing against his.
She could feel the tremor in his grip, the fear and the doubt. But beneath it all, she felt him—the real Finn, lost in the chaos.
Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him, anchoring him with her warmth, her steady presence cutting through the storm. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice soft and close. “You don’t have to be afraid. We’re here with you.”
Finn’s chaotic energy flickered, the storm hesitating, his mind latching onto her voice, her words. He felt her presence—solid, warm, a reminder of everything he’d been holding onto: the friendships, the hope, the promise of something greater than himself.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the wild arcs of magic around him began to soften, the energy pulling inward as he focused on Talia’s touch, her words.
The purple glow around him dimmed, each spark fading until he felt his feet gently touch the ground, the chaotic power dissipating into the air around them.
Progress: Chaos temporarily contained. Achievement Unlocked: First Steps into Arcane Affinity. Reward: 1 x Arcane Feedback Loop—Expect emotional influence on magical output.
As Finn’s energy began to settle, a chilling laugh echoed across the courtyard—a laugh that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. It was deep, wild, and unsettling, rippling through the air like a silent storm, tinged with amusement.
Shadows flickered, twisting unnaturally along the courtyard walls as though alive, and each child, even Alistair, turned to see what was happening.
“Chaos… indeed,” a voice purred, the words weaving through the courtyard like smoke. Though no physical form appeared, a shadowy impression lingered in the air, moving erratically, flickering with strange patterns and fractured shapes.
Every child in the courtyard fell silent, their eyes wide as they watched the formless shadow dance, swirling around Finn, encircling him with a chaotic, ominous energy.
The shadow split apart in odd directions, writhing and changing shape, as though reveling in the disorder it saw within Finn. Then, just as quickly as it appeared, the shadow dissipated, and the laugh echoed one last time—a low, dark chuckle that left a chill in the air.
The energy from Finn’s magic had faded, but a lingering sense of awe and fear remained, the courtyard frozen in the aftermath of the God of Chaos’s presence.
New Quest Unlocked: Whispers of Chaos. Objective: Uncover the nature of your affinity and its ties to the God of Chaos.
Finn lowered back to the ground, his feet touching down with a soft thud. His hands were still trembling as he looked around, his friends’ faces a mixture of awe, fear, and curiosity. Some looked wary, while others seemed unsure, stealing glances at him with a mix of envy and hesitation.
Talia’s hand remained on his arm, steady and reassuring, a quiet reminder that he wasn’t alone.
Alistair stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the children. “Chaos is not inherently good or bad,” he said firmly, addressing their reactions with calm authority. “It is a force like any other, but one that requires understanding, not fear. Finn’s affinity may be rare, but that only means his journey will be his own to define.”
He glanced at Finn, a subtle but encouraging smile on his face. “Control will come with time, Finn. And this power will be yours to guide, not the other way around.”
Cosmo, Wren, and Nyx stepped forward, their faces softening as they approached. Cosmo grinned, an edge of excitement in his voice. “That was… actually amazing. I mean, scary, but also amazing.”
Nyx gave him a quiet nod, while Wren smirked, his usual teasing tone softened. “Looks like you’ll be keeping things interesting around here, huh?”
The tension in Finn’s chest eased as he looked at his friends, relief flooding through him. Alistair’s presence, Talia’s support, and the silent understanding of his friends were enough to remind him that he was not alone in this journey. T
he storm within him might be chaotic, but he was surrounded by people who believed in him—and that was enough to make him believe that he could learn to believe in himself.