Morning light spilled over the small village of Luminara, painting its rooftops in warm gold. The streets, normally quiet, thrummed with life. Families in their best clothes hurried toward the ceremonial hall, the place where destinies were revealed. It was Awakening Day.
Inside, the great chamber glowed with the shimmer of elemental crystals hanging from the ceiling. Parents whispered prayers, children fidgeted nervously, and the air vibrated with anticipation.
Today, children of age would discover the power sleeping within them, be it Prana, the fire of life, or Mana, the essence of magic.
The examination hall rang with excitement.
Inside, the great chamber glowed with the shimmer of elemental crystals hanging from the ceiling. Parents whispered prayers, children fidgeted nervously, and the air vibrated with anticipation.
One by one, the village's children placed their hands upon the stone altar.
Gasps rippled as a boy's palm lit up in swirling streams of water. "Water mage, excellent!"
Another child's altar burned bright with crimson flame."Incredible, he awakened fire. So strong!"
Then the hall exploded with disbelief when a radiant boy stepped down, his altar still shimmering with dazzling brilliance. "Wait - light mage? No way! how rare is that? Our village birthed a wielder of light!"
Marvelous, simply marvelous… To think Luminara would bear a child of light!
Parents clapped, children gawked, and hope swelled in the air. And then came the last boy.
He was small, eight years old, with untidy dark hair and eyes that carried more wonder than fear. His name was Kael. When his turn was called, he swallowed hard and stepped forward.
The altar felt cold beneath his trembling hand. Seconds stretched into eternities. The villagers leaned closer, waiting for the glow. Waiting for fire, water, earth, air… anything.
Nothing.
A hollow silence swallowed the room.
"Is… is the altar broken?" someone muttered.
The elder frowned, tried again - once, twice. Still nothing. Not even the faint shimmer of prana or mana.
Whispers rose like a tide. "Nothing? No mana? No prana? That's impossible… A cursed child…" If that were my son, I'd be ashamed.
Kael's chest tightened. He bit his lip until he tasted iron.
An old priest shook his head sadly. "Forgive me, child. It seems Heaven has abandoned you, and Hell has cursed you. I've never seen such a thing. Perhaps… you are simply a late bloomer. Come back next year."
The words struck Kael harder than any stone. His eyes blurred, but he stood, forcing himself not to cry, as laughter and pity swirled around him.
Two weeks later.
The sharp snap of chalk struck Kael's desk.
"You demon child!" his teacher snarled. "Always dozing off! Why even come to school when you're nothing? Get out!"
Snickers filled the room as Kael stood. He slipped outside, pressing his ear to the wooden door to listen from the hallway.
Inside, the teacher lectured proudly. "This world is blessed with two great forces: Prana and Mana. Thirty percent of people awaken Prana, granting them strength, speed, heightened senses. Seventy percent awaken Mana shaping fire, water, earth, wind, or rarer elements. Most can master only one. Some, exceptionally, can wield two or three we call them Dual-casters or Triarchs."
A girl raised her hand. "Teacher… is there anyone who can wield all of them?"
The class tittered. The teacher chuckled kindly. "No, child. Impossible. The body is designed for one flow either Prana or Mana. Some fools tried to grasp both and perished. Stories of one who wielded all… are nothing but fairy tale."
Kael leaned against the wall, eyes wide. One who wielded all… A seed of wonder lodged in his heart.
When the bell rang, he trudged home.
"Kael!" a warm voice greeted him. His older brother, Roran, stood at the door, tall and broad-shouldered. A sword school student in the distant city of Crestine, Roran radiated strength Kael envied.
"You're back!" Kael's eyes brightened as he hugged him.
"I got leave for a week. No classes at Crestine," Roran grinned. "Now, what do you want for lunch?"
Kael smiled faintly, but it faded when he remembered the ceremony.
"Don't worry, little brother," Roran said, reading his thoughts. "You're a late bloomer, that's all. Once you awaken, nothing will stop you."
They ate together, sharing small joys, before Kael drifted to sleep. That night, as Roran stared at the faded portrait of their parents, he whispered, "Don't worry. If you're not here to watch over us, I will. I'll protect him, no matter what."
Time passed.
Kael endured mockery, loneliness, bruises from bullies. Roran was his only shield against the world's cruelty.
And then, a year later, the second Awakening came.
Kael's legs shook as he stood before the altar once more. Roran squeezed his shoulder. "Don't fear. Be confident. You can do this."
The children before him shone with sparks of flame, ripples of water, bursts of wind. Then it was Kael's turn.
He pressed his hand against the altar. Waited.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
The crowd murmured louder than before. "A second time… Shameful. He's already past the age… no hope for him now."
Kael's throat burned. He bolted, sprinting back to the house, hot tears stinging his eyes.
"Why? Why can't I have anything?" he cried, collapsing against the wall. "I don't have Mom, or Dad, or even a normal life. No mana, no prana… What am I?"
Roran knelt beside him, his own eyes shadowed. "I wonder the same sometimes. Why are we born the way we are? What purpose do we have?" He put his hands on Kael's shoulders. "But listen to me. That should never stop us. You may not understand it now, but one day… you'll see. You'll find your purpose. So don't give up."
Kael hiccupped, silent tears running down his cheeks, before sleep finally claimed him.
Roran watched him. His jaw tightened. Nothing… A cursed child in a world that worships power. I can only hope he survives long enough to prove them wrong.