They called him "Hollow."
Not out loud—never in front of his father. But the servants whispered it behind closed doors, when they thought he was asleep. When they thought the broken boy in the corner couldn't hear.
"No glow. No aura. Just… hollow."
Noah Vale sat alone in the garden, knees pulled to his chest, watching the other children train across the field. Even at seven years old, they could summon sparks, bend water, or lift small stones. Their energy pulsed from within, bright and wild.
But not Noah.
He never glowed.
He never would.
The seal his father placed on him at three weeks old had locked his Gate of Essence—the core where magic, strength, and destiny were born. Without it, he would never be a mage. Never wield a blade or bend the wind. Never be chosen for anything.
To the world, he was a mistake. A child born without purpose.
But inside that quiet, strange boy… something old still breathed.
Elias.
A man who once drowned in knowledge, but starved of meaning.
Four weeks after Noah's birth…
Storm clouds rolled in the sky as the doors to Vale Manor creaked open.
A man stepped inside—tall, with dark eyes and a worn traveler's coat. Thorne Vale, younger brother to Lord Corven Vale, paused at the threshold, his gaze shifting sharply toward the nursery.
"I felt it," he muttered.
Corven stood at the window, arms crossed, staring at nothing.
Thorne stepped closer. "You sealed him, didn't you?"
Corven didn't answer.
"You sealed your own son's gate. Why, Corven?"
Silence.
Then, without turning, Corven spoke—his voice low and strained.
"This is fate."
Thorne's eyes narrowed. "Fate? You cursed that child because of fate?"
Corven finally turned, and for a moment, his mask cracked. There was pain beneath the ice in his eyes. Regret… and fear.
"If he follows in my footsteps… he will die."
"What?"
"I saw it," Corven whispered. "Not in dreams. In the old seals. The legacy in our blood… it ends in fire. I blocked his gate to give him a chance. A normal life. A long one."
Thorne stared at him, disbelief and grief mixing in his voice. "Then what's left for him now? No magic. No future."
Corven turned away again. "Peace. That's all I can give him."
A heavy silence passed.
Then Corven spoke again.
"You must take care of him."
"What do you—"
But before Thorne could finish, Corven vanished.
No sound. No trace.
Just the cold echo of his last words.
And the rain began to fall.
That night, Noah lay awake.
The world had already decided he would never shine.
But deep within him, Elias stirred—quiet, patient… waiting.
This life had limits.
But it also had purpose.
And he would find it.