"In the realm of Eridoria, within the town of Eldrida, lies Brindlemark - a place where the ordinary and extraordinary coexist. In this realm is Where magic and abilities shaped the fabric of existence.
"Observe the realm of Eridoria, where beings like demons, angels, and gods coexist. Yet, one entity surpasses them all - the Creator, the Father of Creation. The ruler and architect of existence.
In this world, humans are born with varying gifts. Some possess magical abilities, while others remain ordinary. The gods within Eridoria's realm bestow unique abilities upon select individuals.
I was born to humble parents, Sophia and Ethan. My arrival was marked by an extraordinary event - an angel's visitation.
As my parents gazed at me, the angel declared, "Your child is no ordinary being. He is the Son of the Creator, born with powers that will shape destiny." The angel's words left my parents bewildered.
The angel's expression turned solemn. "He is a being of immense potential, capable of shaping reality itself." To protect Eridoria from my untamed powers, the angel created a seal, invisible to the naked eye and imperceptible to touch.
"The Angel's words were succinct, yet carried considerable weight. 'I recommend you conceal your magical abilities, as your son will not possess them.'
My parents exchanged a glance, their expressions tinged with understanding.
'My priority is my son's comfort,' Mother stated, her tone resolute. 'We will hide our abilities to create a normal environment for him.'
Father nodded in agreement, his eyes reflecting a mix of determination and concern. 'I'll ensure our secrecy and provide unwavering support to my son.'
Their decision was made, driven by a desire to protect me from the potential consequences of being magic-less in a world where magical abilities were the norm.
I observed their resolve, acknowledging the calculated measures they would take to safeguard my well-being. Their actions would shape our relationships and influence the path I would take."
My parents were told that the seal would suppress my abilities until I was mature enough to control them. The angel vanished, leaving behind a promise: "When your son is ready, I will return to remove the seal, and his true potential will be unleashed."
My parents, particularly Mother, were engrossed in contemplation. The weight of their thoughts was palpable, a burden they couldn't shake.
Father's voice cut through the silence, a deliberate attempt to redirect their focus. 'Let's put this aside for now and choose a name for our child.'
Mother's gaze drifted back to reality, her expression a mixture of resolve and resignation. 'Maybe you're right,' she conceded.
A brief pause ensued. Mother's eyes sparkled with inspiration, a fleeting glimpse of serenity. 'How about Aster?' she proposed.
Father's curiosity was tempered by caution, his silence a testament to his uncertainty. Mother's fingers intertwined with mine, her touch gentle. 'Our little star, a gift from the heavens.'
Father's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, his voice warm. 'Aster Theodoros. It suits him.'
In that moment, I lay asleep in Mother's arms, oblivious to the secrets they kept. Unaware that my parents had chosen to conceal their magical abilities from me, shielding me from the complexities of our world.
A reminder of the delicate balance within the Theodoros family.
Years passed, and I grew up as a 13-year-old boy, unaware of my divine heritage. My life was ordinary, marked by struggles in school. I attended Silvermist Young Academy, a school for training young minds to unlock their magical potential. But I was different - a non-magic user, relegated to Class E, the lowest ranking class.
Silvermist Young Academy stood as a testament to the realm's rich history and magical prowess. The school's architecture was a blend of ancient and modern elements, with towering spires, grand archways, and large windows that seemed to shimmer with a soft, ethereal light.
The exterior walls were made of a gleaming white stone, adorned with intricate carvings that depicted scenes of magical discovery and exploration. The carvings seemed to come alive as the light danced across them, casting a mesmerizing glow across the surrounding landscape.
Upon entering the school, students were greeted by a grand foyer with a sweeping staircase that curved like a crescent moon. The walls were lined with cobweb-covered portraits of former headmasters and notable alumni, their eyes seeming to watch over the students as they passed.
Classrooms were equipped with wooden desks, chairs, and blackboards, with shelves lined with dusty tomes and strange artifacts that whispered secrets to those who listened closely. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment, ink, and the faint hint of magic.
Despite its imposing appearance, Silvermist Young Academy felt like a place where magic was woven into the very fabric of existence. It was a place where young minds came to unlock their potential, to discover the secrets of the universe, and to forge their own paths in a world where magic and wonder waited around every corner.
As I walked through the school gates, the familiar taunts greeted me. "Weakling!" "Powerless!" Their words no longer stung; I had grown numb. My classmates in Class E were my only solace, fellow non-magic users who understood my struggles.
In class, Professor Julian lectured on advanced magic techniques, a cruel reminder of our limitations. Recess was my escape, a time to clear my mind. I sat alone, lost in thought, when a presence caught my attention.
"I've grown accustomed to this solitude. My classmates avoid recess, fearing ridicule and disappointment. But I find solace in this quiet moment, away from the cutting words of our teacher and the mocking gazes of our peers."
As I sat there, I couldn't help but wonder: What lay beyond this ordinary life? Was I truly powerless, or was there more to my story?
"As I strolled to school alongside my mother, I couldn't help but observe the mundane yet fascinating scene unfolding before me. The road was a bustling thoroughfare, with individuals from all walks of life hurrying to and fro. People clad in an array of attire rushed past us, each with their own unique story and struggles.
The houses nearby seemed to blend together, a testament to the uniformity of our daily lives. Yet, amidst this sea of homogeneity, there existed a subtle beauty. Vendors lined the streets, their voices raised in a cacophony of persuasion as they endeavored to eke out a living.
The houses in the town of Brindlemark were a marvel to behold. At first glance, they seemed to blend together, their facades a testament to the uniformity of daily life. However, upon closer inspection, each house revealed its own unique character, as if the occupants' personalities had somehow seeped into the very walls themselves.
The roofs were a deep, burnished crimson, glowing with an inner light that seemed almost otherworldly. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings that shimmered with a soft, ethereal luminescence, like the gentle glow of moonlight.
Vines and flowers spilled from the windowsills, their petals unfolding like tiny, delicate wings that seemed to flutter in the breeze. Despite the touches of magic, the houses remained humble and unassuming, their beauty lying in their quiet, unobtrusive charm.
As I walked through the school corridors, three figures emerged, blocking my path. Ryder, the bully, sneered at me. "Hey, Powerless. What's the point of even existing?" His cohorts, Jake and Max, snickered, forming a menacing circle around me.
I didn't flinch. I'd grown accustomed to this routine. Ryder's kick connected with my stomach, sending me crashing to the floor. The bullies took turns kicking me, their laughter echoing through the hall. The students around us laughed, their indifference stinging more than the physical pain.
Ryder's taunts cut deep. "You're weak, Aster. Useless." I curled up, pain searing through my body. Blood trickled from my lip. As the bullies walked away, I struggled to my feet, wiping the blood with my sleeve.
"This is painful, but I've gotten used to it," I whispered to myself. It was a hollow reassurance.
After school, my mom waited outside, her eyes scanning the crowd for me. A teacher approached, concern etched on her face. "Aster was badly hurt during recess." My mom's heart sank.
As we walked home, the silence between us was oppressive. "Aster, I'm sorry," my mom finally whispered. I looked up, searching for reassurance.
At home, my dad greeted me with concern. "Hey, kiddo, how was your day?" I couldn't hold back anymore. "It was the same. They just won't leave me alone."
My parents exchanged worried glances. "We're sorry, Aster. We know it's hard. But you can't let them bring you down. You're stronger than you think," my mom said.
I sniffled, wiping my nose. "I don't feel strong, Mom. I feel like a weakling. Why can't I be strong like I was meant to be?" Their words of encouragement sounded hollow.
In my room, I lay flat on my bed, wondering: "Is there a way for someone like me not to be weak? I want people to accept my existence. I want this bullying to stop." Determination ignited within me.
"I won't be weak anymore," I declared, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll train my body and mind. I'll prove to myself and others that I'm more than just a weakling."
With newfound resolve, I rushed out of my room, ready to challenge my fate.
I stood in the Solarium, my eyes fixed on my parents. "Who will train me?" I asked, my voice firm.
My mom hesitated, her expression tinged with concern. "I wish I could, but I'm afraid I might be too hard on you." I turned to my dad, my gaze unwavering.
"Dad, will you train me? You're strong, and I know you've trained before." My dad's rugged features softened, a hint of surprise in his eyes.
"Why me, Aster?" he asked, his voice low.
"Because..." I paused, choosing my words carefully. "Looking at how masculine you are... I thought you'd be the perfect trainer." My heart raced, anticipating his response.
My dad's expression transformed, a subtle smile spreading across his face. "Okay, I'll train with you, Aster."
I exhaled, relief washing over me. My mom's brow furrowed, her voice measured. "Aster, you can skip school for now, but not for long."
I nodded, my mind already focused on the training ahead. "Thanks, Mom."
My dad's eyes sparkled with determination. "We'll make this work, dear. We'll find a suitable location for training."
"I don't want to train near or in the house," I said, my thoughts racing.
My dad chuckled. "Don't worry, I know a place. We'll start tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" I repeated, my curiosity piqued.
"I want you to conserve your energy," my dad explained. "Tomorrow, we'll push your limits."
I nodded, a calculated glint in my eye. "That's a good point. I'll be ready."
With that, I steeled myself for the challenges ahead, ready to forge my own path and uncover my true strength.
As I retreated to my room for some much-needed rest, my mom's enigmatic smile caught my attention. "Tomorrow, I'll have a surprise for you. Come see me," she said, her voice laced with intrigue.
I raised an eyebrow, my mind racing with possibilities. "Is it related to training?" I wondered. The uncertainty only piqued my interest.
My mom's cryptic promise lingered, refusing to be dismissed. I couldn't shake off the anticipation building within me. What could this surprise possibly be? A tool to aid my training? A revelation about my past?
I lay in bed, my thoughts consumed by the unknown. The hours ticked by at a glacial pace, each one amplifying my curiosity. Tomorrow couldn't arrive soon enough.
"I'll uncover the truth," I whispered to myself, a calculated glint in my eye. "And utilize it to fuel my growth."