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Prologue

7/14/43

Blue flames consumed everything.

The blue flames of the magically induced explosion reflected off of my wide, shocked eyes. The fire rose from the body of the car my family was driving in only a few minutes ago. The heat radiated off of the site of the explosion, contrasting the cold blood that ran down my left arm. The cuts and scrapes covered my skin, letting crimson blood pour out. Warm tears soon followed and streamed from my eyes at the sight of my mother’s right arm sticking from the rubble of our silver minivan.

The deep blue light of the inferno illuminated the city road, far outpowering the weak electronic lights. A magical fire was known to be much more powerful than its natural counterpart, and was well known to overwhelm modern science’s electronics. The flames continued to burn away at the site of the accident as the criminals responsible for it fled the scene. With the power of wind magic, they were able to take flight, soaring through the air. Before they set course back to wherever they came from, though, the shine of the silver-blue torus on their wrists caught my eye. The sign of the Arcana Rights Organization.

The Arcana Rights Organization emerged before my birth, and they were well known as a terrorist group dead-set on the honorable goal of gaining rights for all magicians out there. While their message and goal may be good, their way of obtaining it was much less so. Even then, while their goal might seem good, the eyes of the public views it as evil. Many different magic types are discriminated against, being seen as evil, violent, and the magicians who have those forms of magic are seen as the same. Of course, these “dangerous people” didn’t have a choice: you didn’t choose your magic; you were born with it.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

The Arcana Rights Organization’s only purpose is to obtain rights for magicians in the New Magicians’ Society of America or NMSA. The United States of America’s rule has long since passed, with the replacement of the Magicians’ Society of America, and finally the NMSA that many live in today. A nation built solely off of revolutions and wars, over and over, and now it seems another powerful upstart has come into existence. More pain and suffering for the people who just want to live a peaceful life.

My mind hazed over as I was barely able to compose coherent thoughts, the last ones being but the wandering information collected in a dissolving mind. Yells and screams echo through the busy night as people rush to my aide. The alarm of an ambulance sounds over to my left, but my hazy, concussed brain finds itself unable to focus or even care about its existence. As the final strands of consciousness fade away, my body hits the ground, and the last thoughts of a possibly dying brain produces a single question. Why? Why did this happen to us?

The last thing my mind manages to register before it falls into its likely last rest brings a slight sense of familiarity and hope, “It’s a first ranker, they’re here!”

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