My hair is black as a moonless night, a stark contrast to the common browns and blonds of Oakhaven. My eyes, a shade of gold that sometimes seems to catch the light in an unnatural way, complete the look. It's a look that screams "mysterious stranger" or "chosen one." A total nuisance. I've spent years perfecting a vacant, harmless expression to counteract it, making my supposedly striking features seem like a simple genetic mistake.
The morning after the Kael-at-the-well incident, the village was buzzing with two pieces of news. The first was the hilarious tale of the miller's son's graceless dance with a mud puddle. The second, and far more electrifying, was the arrival of a carriage.
This wasn't a farmer's cart. This was a sleek, black vehicle drawn by two creatures that looked like wolves fused with shadows. They didn't trot; they glided, their paws barely touching the dirt road. Emblazoned on the carriage door was a crest: a stylized tower piercing a ring of stars. The sigil of the Astral Kingdoms Academy.
The whole village had gathered in the square, a wave of nervous excitement and rustic awe. I stood at the back, leaning against the wall of the smithy, doing my best impression of a mildly interested young man who'd rather be napping.
The carriage door opened and a man stepped out. He was tall and gaunt, dressed in robes of deep blue that seemed to drink the sunlight. His hair was silver, his face sharp and intelligent. His gaze swept over the crowd, and you could feel a collective shiver. This was Magus Theron, a recruiter for the academy.
"People of Oakhaven," his voice was calm, yet it carried to every ear without effort. "The Academy seeks potential. Those with the spark of magic, however faint, deserve a chance to be tested."
The "test" was a simple, transparent crystal orb held by his assistant, a nervous-looking young woman. One by one, the village children of age stepped forward. Kael, still fuming from his humiliation, went first. He gripped the orb with brute force. It flickered with a dull, earthy brown light.
"Earth affinity. Low-tier, but present. You have potential, boy," Magus Theron stated, making a note on a parchment. Kael swelled with pride, shooting a triumphant look around, his pants-related disgrace seemingly forgotten.
Others followed. Elara touched the orb, and it glowed with a soft, green light. "Life affinity. A rare and valuable talent for herbology and healing," the Magus said, a hint of genuine interest in his voice. Elara blushed, retreating back into the crowd.
Then, it was my turn. A few people snickered. "Go on, Leo," someone whispered, "maybe it'll glow from your sheer clumsiness."
I put on my best hesitant, slightly worried face and shuffled forward. I made sure my steps were a little too heavy, my posture a little too slouched. The picture of mediocrity. I reached for the orb, letting my fingers tremble slightly.
This was the crucial moment. I could feel the latent energy within the crystal, a simple mechanism designed to resonate with a person's internal mana. I could have made it blaze like a sun. I could have made it shatter. I could have reversed time until it showed whatever result I wanted.
But I wanted nothing. A quiet life was the goal. Academy meant attention, expectations, and people poking around my business. No, thank you.
As my skin touched the cool surface, I gave a mental command. It wasn't about adding power, but about creating a void. I imagined my presence not as a source of energy, but as a black hole, sucking in any possible resonance. A perfect, absolute zero.
The orb remained utterly, completely dark. Not a flicker. Not a glimmer. It was as inert as a common river stone.
Magus Theron peered at it, then at me. His sharp eyes scanned my black hair and golden eyes, a flicker of confusion crossing his face before it settled into bland dismissal. "No measurable affinity. Null. A complete absence of the spark." He didn't even bother writing my name down.
A wave of relieved sighs and a few pitying looks washed over me. Perfect. I let my shoulders slump in a show of dejection and shuffled back to my spot against the wall, the village's confirmed magical dud.
The Magus finished his notes. "The candidates with affinity—Kael and Elara—will be given until tomorrow to prepare for the journey to the capital for the entrance exams."
The crowd erupted in a mixture of congratulations and farewells. I was already forgotten. Mission accomplished.
Or so I thought.
Later that evening, as dusk painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, I was gathering firewood at the edge of the Whispering Woods. It was a pretext; I enjoyed the quiet. But the quiet was shattered by the sound of panicked shouts and the unmistakable crackle of aggressive magic.
I sighed. Drama. Always drama.
I clicked.
The world froze. The last cry of a bird was trapped in the air. I walked into the woods, following the sound. The scene I found was straight out of a bad adventure novel.
Kael and Elara were cornered against a large oak tree. Facing them were three men in rough leather armor, their faces scarred. Bandits. And not just any bandits. One of them was channeling raw, red energy between his hands—a combat mage of low caliber. A deserter from some army, no doubt.
"Give us the girl and the coin purse, and the oaf can keep his life," the Mage-bandit snarled, his voice a grating rasp in the frozen silence.
In real-time, Kael was foolishly stepping forward, his earth magic forming a pathetic, small rock in his hand. He was about to get himself and Elara killed. Elara's life-affinity was useless in a fight.
This was a problem. I didn't particularly care for Kael, but Elara was kind. And more importantly, these bandits were an annoyance. Their existence disrupted my preferred peace and quiet.
I couldn't reveal myself. But they needed to be dealt with.
I studied the scene. I could kill them all in a nanosecond, of course. But then what? Leave three inexplicably dead bandits in the woods? That would raise more questions than it answered. No, this required finesse. This required a narrative.
I got to work.
First, I repositioned Kael. I moved him a few feet to the left, adjusting his stance to look more heroic, his arm cocked back to throw his little rock. Then, I went to the Mage-bandit. I carefully manipulated the unstable ball of red energy in his hands, overloading it just enough. I pointed his own hands back towards his two companions. For the final touch, I found a large, sturdy-looking dead branch above the two non-magical bandits and loosened it from its moorings.
The stage was set.
I walked back to my original position, a bundle of firewood in my arms, and clicked.
"—can keep his life!" the Mage-bandit finished snarling.
Kael, now perfectly positioned, threw his rock with a guttural yell. It was, as expected, a weak throw. It missed the Mage-bandit by a wide arc.
"Pathetic!" the Mage laughed, and unleashed his spell.
But the spell, overloaded and tampered with, flared wildly. Instead of shooting forward, it exploded backward in a concussive blast, slamming into the two other bandits and sending them flying into a tree. At that exact moment, the dead branch I'd loosened chose that precise second to fall, cracking down on their heads with a satisfying thwack. Both men crumpled, unconscious.
The Mage-bandit stared, dumbfounded at his own hands. The recoil from the misfire had knocked him off balance. In that moment of stunned confusion, Kael's poorly thrown rock, which had been arcing harmlessly away, hit a tree branch, ricocheted at an absurd angle, and smacked the Mage right between the eyes. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed like a sack of potatoes.
Silence returned to the woods, broken only by Kael's heavy breathing and Elara's soft gasps.
Kael looked at the three unconscious bandits, then at his own hands, his face a mixture of terror, shock, and dawning, triumphant pride.
"I... I did it?" he whispered, then louder, "I DID IT! I defeated a rogue mage and his lackeys!"
Elara stared at him, her eyes wide. "Kael... that was... incredible! That ricochet... the way his spell backfired... it was like you planned it all!"
I chose that moment to stumble out of the bushes, my arms full of firewood, my face a mask of confusion. "What's all the shouting? I heard a noise..."
"Leo!" Elara exclaimed, rushing over. "You won't believe it! Kael was amazing! He saved us!"
I looked at Kael, who was now puffing his chest out, the picture of a hero. I let my eyes go wide with awe. "Wow, Kael! You defeated them all? By yourself?"
He strutted over to me, clapping me on the shoulder a bit too hard. "See, Leo? This is real power. Not that null nonsense from this morning. You're lucky I was here."
"Extremely lucky," I agreed, my voice filled with genuine relief. My relief was for my successfully staged performance, not our rescue.
As they hurried back to the village to report the incident, with Kael already embellishing the story, I hung back for a moment. I looked at the three unconscious bandits, a small, satisfied smile playing on my lips.
They would wake up with headaches and a story about a lucky, clumsy oaf who somehow, impossibly, beat them. Kael's legend in the village would be cemented, and he would head to the academy brimming with unfounded confidence. Elara was safe.
And I? I was still Leo, the magical null, the clumsy boy who needed to be rescued. It was the perfect outcome.
I looked up at the first stars beginning to pierce the twilight. The academy awaited Kael and Elara. A world of magic and politics I had successfully avoided.
But as I stood there, a thought, unbidden, crossed my mind. This world had rogue mages and bandits. It had dangers that could disrupt my peaceful obscurity. Maybe... just maybe... staying in this village wasn't the only path to a quiet life. Perhaps the best place to hide, where no one would ever suspect the truth, was in plain sight, surrounded by those who thought they were the strongest.
The seed of a new plan began to sprout. Maybe I didn't need to avoid the academy. Maybe I just needed to enter it on my own terms.
I snapped my fingers, and the firewood in my arms was instantly, perfectly stacked back at my doorstep. It was time to have a talk with Magus Theron. A very convincing, completely fabricated story about a sudden, minuscule, almost undetectable flicker of magic I thought I felt after the test was over. A clerical error, perhaps. Everyone deserves a second chance, right?
After all, I had all the time in the world to get it right.