Two decades ago, a brutal war broke out between Yuzen City and Ryuki City. No side claimed victory, but the destruction was absolute.
Thousands of innocents perished. Homes turned to ash. Countless children were left orphaned in a world ruled by magic and ancient bloodlines.
The spark that ignited the war? Madness.
Roma Siroka, the former leader of Yuzen, burned with hunger for power. But he didn't fall by enemy hands; he was betrayed by his subordinate. A betrayal that shook history.
In revenge, the Siroka clan slaughtered every member of the traitor's bloodline. A bloody purge.
Only then did the two cities sign a fragile peace treaty.
A new leader, Raka, rose in Yuzen, tasked with restoring order. But some wounds run too deep.
*************
Present Day
Auren sat on a rooftop, legs dangling, eyes fixed on the metro lines slicing through the skyline. The setting sun bled orange across the city's haze. Hovering billboards flickered above the noise below.
In this world, magic was everything.
Those born with it were praised and respected.
Those without it? Forgotten.
"I wish someone would notice me, he muttered, clenching his fists.
A billboard flashed the face of a national hero.
"Even as a failure mage…
He sighed.
"Maybe someday, I'll be a hero too.
He laughed softly, tiredly. Yeah, right… Wake up. You're nothing.
Auren's thoughts drifted.
"Both my brothers trained there. But me? I was always the one running errands. Buying carrots. Washing dishes. Helping Mom with chores…
He looked up at the sky. When's it my turn? Do you have an answer for me?
The wind didn't reply. He chuckled dryly and cracked.
Still nothing, huh?
His voice fell into silence.
Why am I invisible? Forgotten by Dad… and even my brothers?
Elsewhere in the City...
A tour guide led a group of travelers past a towering obsidian fortress.
"This is Ryuki Dojo, the guide announced. Built long before magic merged with machines. Carved with beasts, witches, and ancient symbols—each etched from five-element magic: fire, water, wind, earth, and ether.
"This isn't just a school, he added. "It's a monument. A legacy.
At its helm stands Master Hoshin Maru.
And beside him… Ryden Ryuki—the city's Guardian.
The crowd murmured.
"Ryden fought in the war against Yuzen. He's a hero and the father of three sons.
Two of them are already elite mages. The eldest, Veon Ryuki, commands fire. They call him the Blazing Hawk.
The youngest, Kaen, was born with wind magic. At just ten, he was flying through courtyards and splitting trees.
But the third…The guide hesitated. The third is Auren Ryuki.
The tourists looked at each other.
No fire. No wind. No magic. Just silence.
The guide sighed. He carries the Ryuki name, but… there's nothing inside.
Auren remembered his last magic test.
The hall was cold. Silent.
He placed his hands on the glowing orb.
It pulsed for everyone else.
But for him?
Nothing.
His father stood behind the examiner. He didn't frown. Didn't speak.
He simply turned around… and walked away.
That silence hurt more than any insult.
Auren! Don't miss the rice and enchanted milk, his mom shouted from the window.
Coming, he called back, slinging his worn-out bag over his shoulder.
He jogged through the marketplace, dodging kids casting spells and merchants hawking wares.
Back again, Auren? Asked Old Riku, the carrot vendor.
Of course, Auren grinned. Mom's stew needs your carrots.
He grabbed rice, enchanted candles, and a bottle of magical milk that hovered gently in place, never spilling or spoiling.
Then, he noticed a gray-robed man by the fountain. His hat was low, hiding his face.
You carry more than groceries, the old man said.
Auren paused. Just helping out.
There's something in your eyes, the man said softly. Sadness. Longing. Maybe even… fire.
I'm not a mage, Auren replied flatly.
The man smiled. Not yet.
Before Auren could ask anything, a group passed between them.
And the man was gone.
Home.
His mom smiled as he entered. You never forget anything.
In the backyard, Veon and Kaen sparred. Fire met wind. Their laughter echoed.
Ryden stood nearby, arms crossed.
Good, Veon. Your phoenix reflexes are sharp.
Kaen landed and grinned. Did you see that dodge?
Ryden chuckled. Excellent.
Auren stood quietly at the doorway. A smile flickered—but it didn't reach his eyes.
He wanted just one word. One glance. Something.
That evening, he set the table, passed the bowls, and poured water.
No one thanked him.
Only his mother noticed the silence he swallowed.
He scrubbed the dishes in steaming water. His fingertips burned red.
But he never said a word.
That night, he returned to the rooftop.
The city glowed with neon and haze. Hover-trains streaked across the sky.
He raised his hand, wishing it would glow. Wishing for fire, not from the stove, but from within.
Just once, he whispered, I want to be strong.
The wind passed.
Still no magic.
Only silence.
But then—
A dream.
Always the same.
A man in the mist. His face is unclear. His voice was calm.
Remember the glory.
Someone crying.
Someone laughing.
Maybe both.
Auren gripped the edge of the rooftop.
Was it just a dream? Or a forgotten memory?
He didn't know.
But still…
I just want… a friend. Respect. Something. Anything.
The breeze curled around him.
No magic in it.
Just silence.