As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the day, the students of the academy began streaming out of the classrooms and into the hallways, their footsteps echoing through the sleek, modern halls. Asher, Mika, and Bran were among them, leaving the academy after another long day of lectures and training.
They walked in a loose formation, with Mika leading the way, her usual stern expression masking her exhaustion. Bran strolled beside Asher, hands stuffed casually in his pockets as they made their way toward the exit. But Asher wasn't as carefree.
The moment they stepped into the crowded halls, he could feel it—the cold, piercing stares of those around him. He didn't need to see them to know they were there. The looks of disgust, hatred, and fear followed him everywhere, as they always had.
Asher clenched his jaw, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He pulled his headphones from his bag and shoved them over his ears, hoping to drown out the world around him with music. But no matter how loud the music was, it couldn't silence the feeling of rejection that weighed heavily on his heart.
He kept his gaze fixed on the ground, avoiding the eyes of his classmates and the whispers that followed him. Some muttered under their breath as he passed, while others simply stared, their expressions twisted with disdain.
For as long as he could remember, Asher had been treated like an outsider. A pariah. The child of unknown origins, rumored to be the offspring of something far more dangerous than any human or magical creature. That alone was enough to make people wary of him, but it was more than that. To them, he wasn't just different—he was something to be feared, hated, even avoided at all costs.
The glares burned into his back, like an open wound that never healed. It wasn't fair, and no matter how much he tried to adapt to it, the pain never fully went away. Rejection, hatred, annoyance, anger—it was all there, reflected in the eyes of everyone who saw him.
He gritted his teeth, turning up the volume on his headphones, but the stares still cut through, reminding him of how the world saw him. They treated the worst criminals—those who had committed heinous acts—with more respect than they gave him. He wasn't a criminal. He hadn't done anything wrong. But to them, he was worse than one.
Bran, ever the cheerful and carefree spirit, noticed the tension in Asher's face. He stepped a little closer, giving him a light nudge on the shoulder. "Hey, you good?" he asked, trying to sound casual, though there was an undertone of concern in his voice.
Asher forced a smile and nodded, not trusting his voice to speak. Bran knew better than to push. He always did.
Mika glanced over her shoulder, her golden eyes softening when she saw the look on Asher's face. She slowed her pace, falling in step beside him. "Don't let them get to you," she said quietly, her voice gentle yet firm. "You know it's not true. They're just... scared of what they don't understand."
Asher gave her a small nod in response, appreciating her words, but knowing they didn't make the stares go away. They didn't make the rejection hurt any less.
Mika and Bran had always stood by his side, and for that, Asher was grateful. But no matter how much they tried to shield him from the world's hatred, the reality was still there—whether he liked it or not.
They continued walking through the halls, the stares still following them, until they finally reached the academy's exit. Asher sighed in relief once they stepped outside, the cool evening air brushing against his skin. It was a temporary escape, but it was better than being surrounded by the judgmental eyes of his peers.
Bran stretched his arms above his head, letting out a loud yawn. "Man, it feels good to be done for the day. How about we grab something to eat?"
Asher glanced up, forcing a small smile as he pulled off his headphones. "Yeah... sounds good."
Mika nodded, her eyes still lingering on Asher with concern. "Let's go. I could use something to take my mind off things."
As they made their way down the city streets, Asher couldn't help but glance over his shoulder, feeling as though the weight of the stares still clung to him, even after they'd left the academy.
No matter where he went, no matter how hard he tried to blend in, the world always found a way to remind him of what he was—or what they thought he was.