Seraph's eyes were glued to a holo-screen.
Confetti tumbled through the air, catching the arena lights like sparks of fire. The announcer's voice boomed through the speakers, "And the undefeated champion strikes again! The God of Victory defends his title for the fifth consecutive year!"
The crowd erupted. The champion raised his fist toward the sky, the holo-glare reflecting off Seraph's wide eyes.
Seraph jumped up, knocking over a pile of notebooks. Heart pounding, chest tight with anticipation, and spun in place.
From that day on, Seraph dreamed of becoming like the God of Victory, a TV series for kids.
He'd train with sticks for swords, turning his backyard into a battlefield. When it rained, he'd watch replays on the old holo-set, eyes shining with hunger.
At school, he stood out without meaning to. He picked up lessons quicker than most, ran faster, aimed truer. Teachers praised him, neighbors bragged about him, and even the older kids stopped challenging him after a while. In a small rural town where everyone knew each other's names, Seraph became the boy everyone expected to succeed.
But expectations faded once there was no one left to beat. He won every local contest, aced every test, broke every small record there was to break. And when the cheers stopped feeling new, so did the victories.
He didn't quit—he just stopped trying so hard. Homework done half-heartedly still came out perfect. Lazily swung blows still landed clean. Effort and excellence no longer matched.
There was no rival to chase, no mountain to climb—just the quiet hum of routine and the faint echo of a dream that once burned brighter.
And somewhere in that stillness, his spark began to fade.
—
The sun hung lazily in the sky. Seraph trudged along a narrow street, backpack slung carelessly over one shoulder, hands stuffed into his pockets. A yawn stretched wide across his face. Almost the end of the school year—somehow, the days had passed without much notice.
"Hey! Look who's dragging himself out of bed!"
A soft thud behind him. Before he could turn, a pair of chubby hands clamped onto his shoulders, spinning him around.
"Ashfraud!" Seraph stumbled back, nearly tripping over the edge of the sidewalk.
Ashfraud's grin was infectious, wide enough to split his round face. Cheeks flushed from running.
"You're supposed to be a human being, not a sleepwalker," Ashfraud said, giving him a playful nudge. "Almost the end of the year and you're still moving like molasses. Can't have that!"
Seraph rubbed the back of his neck, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "Morning, Ashfraud."
Ashfraud huffed, "What's with that zombie-like attitude? Can't have that wandering through life while everyone else is alive and kicking!"
"Yeah, yeah," Seraph muttered, adjusting his backpack. "I'm fine."
Ashfraud's eyes twinkled as he nudged Seraph forward. "Fine, huh? Lucky for you, I'm here to drag you into life."
—
The classroom buzzed with chatter. While Seraph and Ashfraud slouched at their desks, passing scraps of paper back and forth, teasing each other until laughter echoed off the walls.
"Are you still watching that TV series you were obsessed with?" Ashfraud snorted, nudging Seraph with an elbow.
"You mean, 'God of Victory'?" Seraph replied, smirking. "Not so much as before."
Ashfraud snorted again, leaning back in his chair. "That's surprising. Did your taste finally grow up?"
They laughed until the door slid open with a sharp metallic hiss. The room fell silent.
"Attention, class," the teacher said, voice cutting through the lingering laughter. "Today, we will finally assess your elemental affinities. Please, line up when your name is called."
A ripple of excitement shot through the students.
"For real?!"
"I've been waiting for this!"
"Light Magic! Here I come!"
Seraph leaned back in his chair, "What kind of affinity do I want?"
"Aaron Mils, step up."
Aaron shuffled forward, his hands trembling slightly as he placed them on the orb. A small crumb of soil puffed from the surface, hovering for a moment in the air.
"Woah!" he murmured.
"Earth affinity... that would be cool." Seraph thought to himself, "I can bend the terrain as I like."
"Next, Amy Trel."
A sudden gust swept through the room. Papers fluttered, hair lifted from shoulders, and the holo-lights flickered in response.
The room erupted.
"Whoa!! I wish I had something like that!"
"Wind affinity… and Lightning?! damn, that's insane!"
"Creating a massive storm while flying... Damn, that'd be so cool." Seraph's eyes tracked towards Ashfraud, who was grinning with joviality tempered by curiosity.
Names were called alphabetically. One by one, students stepped forward. Some had fire flickering faintly around their fingers, others had air twisting around their hair, or water pooling beneath their feet. Small sparks, currents, or droplets.
Finally, the teacher's gaze fell on Ashfraud.
"Ashfraud Mondragon."
Ashfraud smirked, pushing his chair back and stepping forward. "Alright, let's see what you've got," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.
The device hummed, glowing softly as he placed his hands upon it. Bright flames licked at his palms, tiny bursts that danced and shivered.
"Yes! Fire Affinity! That's what I've always wanted!" Ashfraud shouted.
Then, almost imperceptibly at first, the flames darkened, deepening into a rich, velvety purple that seemed to swallow light.
"Is… that… Darkness?" a voice stammered.
The room froze. Eyes widened, mouths dropped open. Whispers surged like a tidal wave.
The teacher blinked, brow raised. "One of the rarest basic elements… Congratulations, Ashfraud."
Ashfraud's grin widened, unshaken. Around him, whispers and murmurs erupted, a storm of astonishment—but he barely noticed.
Ashfraud returned to his seat, still jovial.
"Sheesh." Seraph raises his fist asking for a fist bump. "Show me that after the class ends."
"Of course!"
"Next up. Seraph Lyrien"
"It's the top's turn."
"I bet he'd get something really amazing, like Stellar Affinity or something."
"Good luck." Ashfraud cheers.
Seraph stepped forward, heart thumping slightly faster than usual. The chatter of his classmates faded into a dull hum as he placed his hands carefully on the smooth surface of the device.
A spark of fire appeared on his fingertips, dancing weakly as a gentle gust of wind swept around his head. The fire danced higher, spinning in rhythm with the swirling currents.
Fire and Wind.
A collective sigh echoed through the classroom.
"Fire… and Wind?" someone muttered, a hint of disappointment in their voice.
"Wait, that's it?" another asked, frowning. "I expected something rarer."
"Hmm… Fire and Wind is a decent combo," one student whispered.
Another muttered under their breath, "I wish I had Wind too…"
Ashfraud gives a concerned look at Seraph.
Seraph pulled his hands away, letting the flames and breeze fade. He blinked, catching Ashfraud's concern from across the room. He waved like as if nothing really happened.
—
The sun dipped low, painting the streets gold as Seraph and Ashfraud walked home.
Ashfraud held out a hand, dark flames flickering and curling around his fingers. "Imagine this," he said, eyes alight. "I'm standing while fire and shadow swirl all around me. Then I go, 'Witness the world burn and tremble before me!'" He laughed, tossing a small flame into the air, letting it dance for a moment before catching it again.
Seraph walked beside him, hands tucked into his pockets, eyes on the horizon. "Hahaha! You planning to become a villain or something?"
Ashfraud glanced at him, frowning slightly. "You… really okay with your affinity? Fire and Wind. Nothing flashy?"
Seraph shrugged. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. "Yeah. I'm fine with it. Like that show always said…" He grinned, quoting the old TV series he had idolized as a kid. "It's not about the power; it's how you use it."
Ashfraud snorted, shaking his head with a mock groan. "That TV series again… But… you're right."
Seraph flicked a tiny flame at Ashfraud, who barely dodged erratically. "Hey! Watch it, you bastard."
"Bring it on! I'll spin you with the wind like that one movie!"
Laughter bounced off the quiet streets as they continued toward home.