As Ignatius stood by the school gate, waiting for the Old Monk, he couldn't shake off the humiliation from earlier in the day. Thoughts swirled in his mind, questions unanswered, and doubts lingered about his own abilities. He hoped the Old Monk would have some wisdom to share, something to ease the turmoil in his heart.
As Ignatius entered the car and inquired about the Old Monk, the driver's response left him disheartened. He realized that the Old Monk's duties with the Tribunal were consuming his time, preventing him from fulfilling the role of picking him up and dropping him off daily. Ignatius felt a sense of loneliness creeping in, realizing that he would have to navigate this new chapter of his life without the comforting presence of the Old Monk by his side.
As Ignatius glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror, the marks Tim had left on his neck served as a painful reminder of the day's events. Despite the physical discomfort, Ignatius was more concerned about his mother's reaction.
Recalling her joy upon his enrollment at the academy, he couldn't bear the thought of disappointing her with news of his altercation. Understanding her heavy workload with the Tribunal, Ignatius made a silent resolve to shield her from worry and maintain her happiness. Upon arriving at the headquarters, he plastered on a smile, eager to greet his mother and preserve the illusion of a perfect day. As he embraced her, he buried his own turmoil deep within, determined to keep her blissful.
Tired from his first day at school and feeling down about what happened with Tim, Ignatius went to bed early. He just wanted to forget about it all and find some peace in sleep. Closing his eyes, he hoped tomorrow would be better.
--
In the school courtyard that unfolded before him, but this time, it was different. Tim and the others were there, mocking him just like before, but Ignatius felt a surge of frustration and anger rising within him.
As they ridiculed him for needing an artifact to use his weak powers, Ignatius, overwhelmed with emotion, removed his ring. Suddenly, power coursed through him like a raging river, and he found himself engulfed in a swirling tempest of elements - fire, water, earth, and air coalescing around him in a dazzling display of raw, untamed energy.
The other students, caught in the choking aura of Ignatius's new power, were rendered motionless, their voices silenced by the sheer force of his presence. It was as if time itself had frozen in awe of this newfound might. For Ignatius, this overwhelming surge of power was both exhilarating and terrifying. Yet amidst the chaos and confusion, he found a strange sense of comfort in the boundless potential that now coursed through his veins.
With a triumphant laugh and a wicked grin, Ignatius lunged at Tim, seizing him by the face with a grip of iron and slamming him to the ground with a force that shattered his skull like fragile porcelain. The sickening crunch of bone echoed through the courtyard, mingling with the horrified screams of the other students, who watched in terror as their once invincible classmate fell to the ground, lifeless and broken.
But Ignatius was not finished. With each passing moment, his power seemed to grow stronger, more uncontrollable. He moved with otherworldly grace, a predator stalking its prey, as he unleashed the full extent of his newfound abilities upon his helpless classmates. One by one, they fell before him, their bodies torn asunder by the unstoppable force of his wrath.
As the last echoes of their screams faded into the night, Ignatius stood alone amidst the carnage, his chest heaving with exertion, his hands stained with the blood of his fallen foes. Yet there was no remorse in his heart, no regret for the lives he had taken. In that moment, he felt more alive than he ever had before, intoxicated by the heady rush of power that pulsed through his veins.
"Good morning, my dear," his mother said, her voice warm and reassuring. "Time to rise and shine. You have a big day ahead of you."
Ignatius realized that He was In a dream. With a sigh of relief, Ignatius shook off the remnants of the dream that had gripped him moments ago. The vivid images of violence and power faded away, replaced by the familiar surroundings of his room in the tribunal headquarters, where His mother was waking him up.
As Ignatius stirred from his unsettling dream, Rubbing his eyes sleepily, he glanced down at the ring clutched tightly in his hand, its surface glinting faintly in the soft light filtering through the window.
Turning to his mother, Amara, who sat nearby, Ignatius couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered from his dream. "Mother," he began, his voice tinged with curiosity, "what is this ring? Why does it feel... different?"
Amara's gaze softened as she regarded her son, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. "That, my dear Ignatius," she replied, her tone gentle yet enigmatic, "is a special ring. It's meant to protect you from negative energies, to keep you safe from harm."
Ignatius furrowed his brow in confusion, the remnants of his dream still haunting his thoughts. "But why do I need protection?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "And why does it feel so... strange?"
Amara hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering to the ring in Ignatius's hand before meeting his eyes once more. "Sometimes, my son," she began softly, "we need protection from things we can't see or understand.
As Amara observed Ignatius grappling with the mysterious ring in his hand, she couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt gnawing at her heart. She knew the truth behind the ring, the painful memories it evoked, but she also understood the weight of keeping such secrets from her son.
As Ignatius struggled to remove the ring, his fingers trembling with determination, the surface of the band began to shimmer with an ethereal glow.
At first, Ignatius marveled at the mesmerizing display, the intricate incantations weaving a mesmerizing dance across the metal surface. But as he persisted in his efforts, the glow intensified, transforming from a gentle radiance to a searing blaze that engulfed his tiny fingers.
Pain erupted through Ignatius's hand, searing agony coursing through his veins as the scalding heat of the ring branded his tender flesh. With a cry of anguish, he recoiled, tears welling in his eyes as he cradled his injured hand against his chest. The once-innocent curiosity now replaced by raw pain and confusion.
Ignatius prepared himself for another day at school, the weight of his mother's warning lingering in his thoughts like a shadow. As he made his way to school, he couldn't shake the feeling of curiosity about the ring encircling his finger, despite her stern admonition.
Despite his hopes for a better day, Ignatius found himself facing the same familiar torment as before when he arrived at school. Bullies surrounded him once again, their mocking voices echoing in the corridors.
Ignatius was bombarded with taunts and insults, the bullies questioning his presence at the academy and mocking him for his lack of a father figure. The cruel words cut deep, reminding Ignatius of his vulnerability in a place where he felt like an outsider.
Back at the Headquarter, Amara sought advice from the old monk regarding the mysterious ring. She confided in him about Ignatius's struggle to remove it and the burning sensation it caused when he tried. The old monk listened attentively and asked about the origin of the RIng.
Upon learning that the ring was bestowed by Blackbeard himself, the old monk's demeanor shifted, reflecting a mix of surprise and concern. Blackbeard's stature within the Tribunal was unquestionable, making his involvement in such a matter all the more perplexing.
The old monk expressed his concern to Amara, advising her against engaging with Blackbeard any further. Given Amara's background, devoid of any aristocratic lineage or bureaucratic ties, her sudden ascension to a prominent seat in the Tribunal had stirred jealousy among her peers. The old monk cautioned that any confrontation with Blackbeard could escalate matters, with others siding against Amara and jeopardizing her position within the Tribunal.
Ignatius returned to the Tribunal headquarters with a smile on his face, greeting everyone he passed by.
--
Many years passed, and As the years passed, Ignatius found himself enduring the relentless mockery day after day. Each jeer chipped away at his spirit, leaving him hollow and despondent. He began to lose hope, his once vibrant demeanor fading into a facade of emptiness.
Despite his pain, he withdrew into himself, speaking less and less to his mother, finding solace only in his own solitude. When forced to interact with others, he plastered on a smile, a facade of happiness masking the void within him. Yet, beneath the facade, he was a prisoner of his own despair, trapped in a cycle of sadness and isolation.
He often found himself yearning for a presence he had never known - his father. Though absent from his life, the idea of his father became a beacon of hope in Ignatius's darkest moments. He longed for the guidance and support that only a father could provide, imagining scenarios where his father would be there to lend a comforting hand or offer words of encouragement. In his heart, Ignatius held onto the belief that if his father were by his side, perhaps he wouldn't feel so alone in his struggles. Yet, the absence of his father served as a constant reminder of the void in his life, a void he desperately wished could be filled.
Ignatius spent his days at the academy hidden in the shadows, a solitary figure navigating the bustling halls unnoticed by most. While his classmates knew his name, he remained a mystery to the rest of the academy, a silent presence lingering on the fringes of their awareness. Ignatius avoided interactions whenever possible, retreating into his own world where he could escape the harsh realities of his surroundings. His anonymity shielded him from the prying eyes of those who might judge him, allowing him to navigate the academy's corridors with a sense of freedom and anonymity. Yet, beneath his quiet exterior, Ignatius carried the weight of his isolation, longing for connection but unable to bridge the gap between himself and his peers.
As Ignatius turned 14, he faced the inevitable transition to the dormitories of the Tribunal academy. The prospect of leaving his mother's side filled him with a sense of dread, as she had been his sole source of happiness amidst the challenges of his daily life. Ignatius cherished the moments they shared, finding solace and comfort in her presence. However, the rules of the academy left him with no choice but to move into the dorms, separating him from the one person who brought light into his world. This transition marked a turning point in Ignatius's life, forcing him to confront the loneliness that had plagued him for years without his mother's constant companionship.
Ignatius moved into the dormitories, requesting to live alone without any roommates. He preferred the solitude, finding solace in the quiet of his own space where he could retreat from the noise and chaos of the outside world.
The dorm room became his sanctuary, a place where he could finally be alone with his thoughts without the constant scrutiny of others. Ignatius filled his room with books and artifacts, surrounding himself with objects that provided comfort in his solitude. Yet, even in the stillness of his dorm room, he couldn't escape the lingering sense of loneliness that haunted him, a reminder of the connections he longed for but couldn't seem to find.
--
Entering the dorms, Ignatius discovered a whole new world. At 14, the curriculum took a sharp turn, introducing classes centered on magical control and combat skills. It felt like a fresh start for everyone. Ignatius hesitated at the thought of attending the magical classes, fearing that his powers would subject him to further ridicule.
As Ignatius made his way towards the academy building for his first magical class, he couldn't help but admire the grandeur of the Tribunal dorm. Majestic and imposing, it stood tall amidst lush gardens, its architecture a testament to centuries of tradition and excellence. Various pathways branched out from the main courtyard, leading to different facilities within the dorm complex. To his left, Ignatius could see the academy building, where his magical education would take place.
To his right, the battle arena loomed, a testament to the martial prowess honed within the Tribunal's walls. Beyond that, the magical forest beckoned with its mysteries, while the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted from the nearby cafe. Though, he was not willing to go to the Arcane Classes.
As Ignatius entered the arcane classes, he saw mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces among his classmates. Among them was Tim, a constant reminder of his past humiliations. Despite the presence of new faces, Tim's sneering gaze seemed to overshadow the room.
The teacher commanding the class was a striking figure, her beauty captivating the attention of all the students. With a curvaceous figure and an aura of authority, she exuded confidence and knowledge. Ignatius couldn't help but feel a mixture of awe and nervousness as he took his seat among his peers in the steps of the Magical Open Hall
As the class began, the teacher called upon Tim to demonstrate channeling his magic through the magical globe. Ignatius watched intently as Tim stepped forward, a confident smirk playing on his lips. The teacher's voice resonated through the room, explaining the intricate process of harnessing magical energy.
"You'll feel a stream of energy coursing through you," she explained, her words carrying a tone of authority. "Channel it through your body and focus on casting the required spell. The strength of your focus will determine the potency of the spell."
As the class progressed, with Tim's demonstration underway, a sudden commotion erupted at top of the stairs of the open hall. Ignatius's eyes widened as a mythical beast materialized behind the class—an imposing, majestic wolf with fur as dark as the night sky.
The mystical wolf stood before them, a towering figure of majestic yet fearsome presence. Its massive frame stretched upwards to a height of twenty feet, casting a shadow that seemed to swallow the light around it.
With fur as dark as the depths of the night sky, the wolf exuded an aura of power and mystery. Its coat rippled with every movement, hinting at the strength that lay coiled within its muscular form.
Sharp fangs glinted menacingly from its jaws, giving the impression of a predator poised to strike. Its eyes burned with an intense darkness, as if reflecting the secrets of the universe itself.
Despite its imposing stature, there was a grace to the way it moved, each step measured and deliberate. Yet, beneath its regal demeanor lurked a primal energy, a reminder of the untamed wilderness from which it had emerged.
The teacher's voice cut through the startled whispers, commanding everyone to gather behind her with urgency.
"Stay behind me, This mystical wolf is no ordinary creature. It possesses the strength and ferocity of a high-ranking knight. Any sudden movement could provoke it, and the consequences would be catastrophic."
The classroom erupted into chaos as the mystical wolf lunged towards Ignatius, its massive jaws clamping down on his outstretched hand. Ignatius felt an agonizing pain shoot through his arm as the wolf's razor-sharp teeth tore through flesh and bone.
With a gut-wrenching scream, Ignatius collapsed to the ground, clutching the stump where his hand had once been. Blood pooled around him, staining the pristine floor of the classroom crimson as his classmates looked on in horror.
The Wolf ready to eat Ignatius Jumped to attack him again.