In a small, forgotten village in Asia, hidden among the mountains, lived a boy whose name was barely remembered. In that place, magic was everything. From the fertile fields that produced crops to the tools that made daily work easier, life depended on the power of mana that flowed through the inhabitants. But for him, magic had always been a distant dream, a spark that never ignited within him.

It was a harsh existence, and those who could not manipulate magic were looked upon with disdain. The villagers, though they didn’t say it openly, despised him. “A useless one,” some whispered. “There’s no future for someone like him.” His family, though loving, suffered the consequences of poverty. They had no land or mana to improve, and days of hunger turned into weeks, then months.

Winter arrived, cruel and silent, covering the village in a blanket of snow that seemed eternal. The cold seeped through the walls of their home, a small and humble shelter that barely kept out the wind. There was no food, not even a piece of hard bread to share. The villagers, blessed with magic, could warm their homes and find ways to survive. But for him and his family, winter was a death sentence.

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One night, the silence was deeper than usual. The boy, with an empty stomach and tired eyes, huddled next to his parents, hoping that the next day would bring some hope. But when he awoke, reality was harsher than he had ever imagined. His parents were no longer breathing. Their bodies, fragile and consumed by hunger, lay still, lifeless.

The boy remained there, in the cold, unable to cry, unable to comprehend the emptiness that opened up inside him. Everything he had known, everything he loved, had disappeared. There was nothing left. No magic, no family, no future.

Days passed before he decided to move. No one in the village came to help. It was as if his existence was so insignificant that his suffering didn’t even warrant a word of comfort. In the end, when the pain turned into a kind of empty calm, the boy knew he had no reason to stay. There was nothing tying him to that place.

With nothing but the clothes on his back and a resolve he didn’t fully understand, he began to walk. He didn’t know where he was going, but a voice, perhaps his own thoughts or something else, urged him forward. “The world is vast,” he told himself. “I must find something more.”

And so, his journey began. Without magic. Without a home. Only with a small flame of hope in his heart, searching for answers in a world that had always rejected him.