Six years had passed since Arlen and Theo’s naming, and with each day, the world around them seemed to drift further from Arlen’s reach. He sat in the same corner of the room, calm and unbothered, as life swirled around him. The laughter of Theo, the bustling excitement of his parents preparing for their sixth birthday—it all felt like a distant echo, muffled by an invisible barrier.

Arlen watched it all with detached quietness, as though observing a play from behind a curtain. He wasn’t part of the scene, and deep down, he knew he never would be. It wasn’t sadness or envy, just an unshakable certainty that he didn’t belong. Yet, even now, he waited for something he couldn’t name, as if one day the curtain might rise for him.

Outside, Theo raced across the yard, his smaller frame moving with a strength and grace that made every leap and tumble seem destined for greatness. John couldn’t stop talking about it.

“Look at him, Mary.” John’s voice brimmed with pride as he pointed to Theo through the window. “He’s a born genius. You’ll see—this evaluation will just confirm it.” He leaned against the frame, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “He’s got that spark. You can’t teach that, Mary. You’re born with it.”

Mary smiled faintly but didn’t look at Theo. Her gaze flickered to Arlen, still and silent in his corner. “They both have their own spark, John. The evaluation will show us.”

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Arlen barely heard them. He had grown used to their words, their endless praise of Theo. It wasn’t that he didn’t care—he loved Theo, just as he loved Lena. But the evaluation wasn’t just for Theo. It was for him too.

And Arlen already knew what it would show.

The evaluation would come, and it would prove what he had always known: there was nothing extraordinary about him. Not because he was lazy or weak, but because he simply wasn’t like them. Theo, Lena, his parents—they all had something inside them, some essence that tied them to the world. But Arlen? He was something else entirely. He didn’t belong in their world, though he couldn’t explain why.

When Lena had her evaluation, it had been a momentous event. At just twelve years old, she had shown a brilliance that left everyone in awe. Her talent was undeniable, and no one was surprised when she was marked for the academy, where she would attend in two years.

Lena was a prodigy, a once-in-a-lifetime talent, destined for greatness. And though Arlen loved her, he couldn’t help but feel the emptiness of it all. Her brilliance wasn’t his to share; it was just another reminder of everything he wasn’t.

The evaluation in a few days wasn’t for children like Lena, who had already proven where they belonged. It was for children like Theo—and Arlen. Children who needed to be told where their paths lay, who needed the world to define their worth. But Arlen didn’t need the evaluation to tell him his place. He had known it from the start.

“Don’t worry, Arlen.” Mary’s voice was soft, almost hesitant, as she looked at him. “The evaluation will tell us where you shine, just like it will for Theo.”

Arlen said nothing, his calmness unbroken. He didn’t need to argue; he didn’t need to explain. What could he say? That the world they lived in wasn’t meant for him? That he already knew how this story would end?

Theo’s laughter carried through the air, bright and boundless, a sound full of promise. But to Arlen, it felt distant, like a melody meant for someone else. He closed his eyes for a moment, retreating into the stillness of his own thoughts.

There, in the quiet, he waited. For what, he didn’t know. Perhaps for nothing at all.