I was thirteen the first time I realized the town hated me.
Not in the loud, obvious way people hate criminals or traitors.
No, my existence was treated like a quiet inconvenience, an unfortunate stain they tried not to look at directly. I felt it every morning the moment I stepped out of our small wooden house, when the cold air bit my skin and the neighbors' eyes slid past me like I was a ghost.
Our town wasn't normal.
From the outside, if there even was an outside that could find us, it was a hidden settlement surrounded by forests that stretched endlessly, a place preserved by old curses and older traditions. But on the inside, it was a world built on one sacred rule:
Every single person is born with an ability.
A mark of strength.
Proof of worth.
A blessing from whatever ancient force sealed this town off from the rest of the world.
Everyone but me.
And in a town like ours, being the only one without power… it was like being born already dead.
I walked down the packed dirt road slowly, hugging my books against my chest as children my age showed off their abilities to one another. Sparks danced on fingertips. Water floated midair like tame glass. One girl laughed as she flew just half a meter above the ground, her hair fluttering behind her like ribbons.
I tried not to stare too long. The more I stared, the more I remembered I had nothing like that, nothing to lift me above the ground, nothing to protect me from the cold, nothing to prove I should even be here.
Someone's shoulder bumped hard into mine.
"Watch it, Asher," a boy muttered without looking back. "Or at least try to be useful for once."
My hands tightened around my books, but I stayed quiet. It was easier that way. Silence had become my safest ability.
I kept walking.
Our house came into view at the end of the road, a small, slanted structure with faded paint and a crooked roof. Inside, I could already hear my parents' voices, bright and excited in a way they never were with me.
When I stepped through the door, the warmth of the house wrapped around me, carrying with it a sound that always made my chest ache.
Laughter.
My mother, Selene Morgan, was kneeling beside the dining table, her eyes wide with amazement. My father, Darius Morgan, stood behind her with arms crossed but smiling proudly. In the middle, on the wooden floor, stood my younger brother, Lian.
His palms glowed with soft golden light.
"I did it again!" Lian shouted. "Look, look!"
He flicked his fingers, and the glow sharpened, forming a perfect sphere of light that hovered above his palm. It rotated slowly like a tiny sun, sparks of warmth brushing across the room.
My parents clapped. I froze in the doorway.
"That's incredible, Lian," my father said, voice filled with genuine pride. "You're progressing so fast."
"You'll surpass the other children at this rate," my mother added.
Their joy felt like a wall between us, a wall I could never climb.
Lian turned toward me when he noticed I was there.
"Asher! Did you see? Did you see?" he asked, eyes bright.
I forced a small smile and nodded. "Yeah. You're amazing, Lian."
He beamed, then ran over and tugged at my sleeve to pull me closer, but Selene gently caught his shoulder.
"Lian, give your brother some space," she said, voice dropping to a colder tone once she addressed me indirectly. "He must be tired from… school."
Tired wasn't the word. But I didn't correct her.
I sat at the table quietly when dinner came. My parents focused all their attention on Lian, praising his progress, discussing his training schedule, imagining what his future ability ranking would be. I ate slowly, in silence. No one asked how my day was. No one ever did.
I was simply there.
Background noise in my own home.
When the meal ended, Lian discreetly slipped a small candy onto my plate when our parents weren't looking. My favorite fruit flavor. He smiled at me from across the table.
It was such a small gesture, but to me it felt like warmth in a freezing room.
He was the only light I had.
School was worse.
The training grounds behind the main building were always filled with students practicing their abilities. Teachers walked around, correcting forms, measuring output, encouraging students to push themselves.
"Alright class," our instructor called out. "Fire users on the left field. Water manipulators to the east. Telekinetics, center. Those with unique abilities, group by category."
And then there was me.
"…Asher Morgan," the instructor said, barely glancing at me. "You can… sit out again."
Sit out.
As if I had a choice.
I walked to the far edge of the field and sat on the cold grass. My breath came out in small clouds as I pulled my knees close, trying not to look too long at the other kids.
One boy summoned flames that curved like snakes. Another lifted stones effortlessly with a flick of his fingers. A girl spun threads of wind around her arms like ribbons.
I tried to imagine myself among them, a version of me with strength, with ability, with worth.
But imagination can only take you so far before it hurts.
A sudden thud hit the back of my head. I flinched and grabbed the spot, feeling the sting.
When I turned around, three boys stood behind me, smirking.
"Oops," one said, tossing a pebble between his hands. "Didn't see you there, powerless."
"What are you even doing here? Watching? Taking notes?" another sneered.
The third leaned close. "You know, if I had no ability… I'd at least try to be useful. Maybe clean the field or something."
My throat tightened. I forced my voice out.
"I… can't do anything about it."
"Exactly," he replied. "You can't do anything."
I looked down.
I didn't notice someone approaching until a harsh crack split the air. A wooden staff slammed down in front of the bullies, barely missing their feet.
"What do you think you're doing?" a calm voice snapped.
I knew that voice.
I looked up to see Kael, my childhood friend, the boy who always seemed annoyed but still stood by me. His expression was cold as he stepped between me and the bullies.
Before they could retort, another figure stepped up beside him.
Elaine.
Her gaze alone was enough to silence a crowd. Sharp, focused, smart, she was the strategist of our trio, even if she was still our age. She crossed her arms and tilted her head, eyes narrowing.
"Bothering Asher again?" she asked. "How predictable."
The bullies stiffened. "W-We weren't—"
"Save it," Kael said, twirling his staff. "Leave."
They left.
Kael tapped my shoulder lightly. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," I said, though the ache in my chest lingered.
Elaine knelt slightly to meet my eyes. "You don't have to sit alone, you know."
"I know," I replied quietly. "But they'd just target you two more."
Kael scoffed. "Let them try."
Elaine smiled faintly. "We've known you since we were toddlers. We're not going anywhere."
I felt a small warmth inside. A tiny flame.
But even with them by my side, the heaviness never left completely.
Being powerless wrapped itself around me like a permanent shadow.
After school, the three of us walked home together.
I mostly stayed silent.
The air smelled of pine and the sky was a warm orange. For a moment, everything felt peaceful.
But that peace always had an expiration date.
We reached the point where our paths split, and I waved them off. Once I was alone, my steps slowed.
Every house I passed was alive with light, families training together, laughter filling the air, parents cheering their children's progress.
And then there was my house.
Dim. Quiet. Cold.
I hesitated at the door before pushing it open.
Inside, my parents were discussing Lian's next assessment with one of the town instructors. Lian was practicing his light spell again, the golden orb spinning gracefully above his hand.
None of them noticed me.
None of them ever did.
I quietly climbed the stairs to my room, closing the door behind me.
My room was small, bare walls, a simple bed, a desk with notebooks filled with scribbles that weren't assignments or training logs. They were lists.
Lists of abilities I wished I had.
If I had even one…
Just one…
Maybe my parents would look at me.
Maybe the town wouldn't avoid me.
Maybe the bullies would stop.
Maybe I could belong.
My door creaked open.
"Asher…?"
Lian peeked in, hugging a small blanket. He tiptoed inside, closing the door behind him.
"You didn't eat much at dinner," he whispered. "Are you sick?"
"I'm fine, Lian." I tried to smile. "Just tired."
He approached quietly and sat beside me on the bed, his small head leaning against my arm.
"You know," he murmured, "I still think you're the coolest brother."
My breath caught in my throat.
He continued, voice soft and earnest.
"Even if you don't have an ability yet… I know you'll awaken one someday. And I know it'll be amazing."
I swallowed hard, my vision blurring slightly around the edges.
"…Thank you."
"Don't give up, okay? I believe in you."
"I won't," I whispered.
I didn't know if I said it for him or to convince myself.
He eventually fell asleep against me, and I carried him back to his room gently. When I returned to mine, I sat by the window and pushed the curtains aside.
The moon hung low, casting pale silver light across the sleeping town.
I stared at the sky for a long time.
"I just want to be worth something…" I whispered.
My voice was so soft the night almost swallowed it whole.
No one answered.
No power stirred within me.
No revelation came.
Just the quiet.
Just the cold.
Just me.
The powerless boy in a town built on strength.
As the moon drifted behind a cloud, darkness washed over the streets.
I didn't know it yet, but this was the last peaceful night of my life.
And the last night I would ever look at this town and still hope it would love me back.