The sun peeked through the cracked window of the orphanage, casting a warm glow over the worn wooden floorboards. Dust danced in the light as Zerith stirred awake, groggy from another restless night. 15 years old today, April 24th. A milestone that felt more like a weight than a celebration.
He lay still for a moment, listening to the sounds of the orphanage waking up around him. The distant clatter of dishes in the kitchen mixed with the soft chatter of children brushing their teeth. A few older kids were already racing to the courtyard, laughter ringing out as they vied for the best spots in the morning sun.
Zerith sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He glanced around the small room he shared with two other boys around his age. The walls, once painted a cheerful blue, had faded to a dull gray, marred with scruff marks and peeling paint. His meager belongings, a few worn clothes, a tattered book about magic and a small wooden carving of a bird, sat on a shelf above his bed.
He sighed, pulling his knees to his chest. The excitement he had felt leading up to the days of his birthday had begun to wane, replaced by a gnawing anxiety. Today was the day he would awaken his mana, but with it came the weight of expectations. Would he be like his brother, a high human, destined for greatness? Or would he remain just zerith, the normal boy lost in a world that viewed him as less.
Pushing himself off the bed, he walked over to the mirror hanging crookedly on the wall. His reflection stared back at him, black hair tousled, brown eyes framed by with dark circles from sleepless nights. He tried to muster a smile, but it fell flat. Today was supposed to be special but all he could feel was a growing sense of dread.
After washing his face, Zerith made his way down the creaking stairs to the common area, where breakfast was already being served. The aroma of porridge hung in the air, a start reminder of the orphanage's humble funds. As he took his seat on the long wooden table, a few of the younger children rushed past, giggling as they chased one another.
"Happy birthday, Zerith!" One of them shouted, a girl with messy braids and bright eyes.
"Thanks" he replied, forcing a smile thay didn't quite reach his eyes. The cheer in her voice felt like a stark contrast to the uncertainty swirling within him.
After breakfast, the caretaker called everyone to gather in the courtyard. Zerith's heart raced as he stood among the other children, excitement and anxiety mingling in his chest. Today was the day of magic testing, where all those who shared his birthday and had turned 15 would be called forward, 8 others in total all eager and apprehensive.
As the caretaker began to explain the process, Zerith felt a strange sensation building up within him, like a fire burning igniting in the depths of his being. He shifted from foot to foot trying to ignore it. But as his name was called, a powerful wave that made his skin tingle and his heart pound in his chest.
"Zerith!" The caretakers voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he stepped forward, the other children watched him with wide eyes.
With every heartbeat, the heat within him pulsed stronger, and he felt a rush of emotions. Fear,hope,anger. All colliding within. The other birthday children stood nearby, their faces a mix of determination and fear as they waited their turns. Hoping to get the element they wish for.
"Remember, it's not about your potential as humans" The caretaker instructed the kids, her voice steady and encouraging " It's about how hard you work, finding the right artifacts and mastering techniques and spells is what truley will determine your strength"
Zerith swallowed hard, the weight of her words settled in. He had read countless stories about magic, of those who excelled because of artifacts and their origins. But now it was clear, for him effort and determination mattered more than anything else. He felt a surge of resolve, he would not let his circumstances define him.
"Focus on your mana" the caretaker continued to instruct, her voice fading as Zerith closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He reached within himself, trying to find the magic spark in his mind that would ignite his powers.
Suddenly, an overwhelming force erupted from him, flames bursting forth like a phoenix rising from the ashes. The world around him faded like a blur, and he was engulfed in a whirlwind of heat and colour.
A fiery aura enveloped him, and he gasped, feeling the air shift, the ground tremble beneath him. He could sense the raw energy flowing through him, a connection to the element that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.
In that moment, Zerith awakened his magic manifesting as brilliant flames that danced around him, illuminating the faces of the onlookers in shock and awe.
As he stood there, surrounded by fire, he felt an unfamiliar power coursing through his veins. His emotions faded into a singular focus: He was going forge his own path.