Ascar Wythers, at 17 years old, trudged down the winding path to school, the early morning sun casting long shadows across the well-worn cobblestones. His round wire-framed glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as he hunched his shoulders, trying to make himself as small and inconspicuous as possible.
This was his daily routine – wake up, get dressed, and make the dreaded journey to the academy, where he would face the jeers and taunts of his peers. Ascar had never quite fit in with the other students, his diminutive stature and bookish demeanor making him an easy target for bullies.
As he neared the looming gates of the academy, Ascar could already hear the familiar sounds of laughter and shouting. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the onslaught, when a familiar voice called out.
"Ascar! Wait up!"
Turning, Ascar saw his 15-year-old younger brother, Osias, hurrying to catch up with him. Despite their age difference, the two siblings had always been close, and Osias's presence provided a small measure of comfort amidst the daily torment.
"Morning, Osias," Ascar said, managing a weary smile. "Ready for another day of torment?"
Osias grimaced sympathetically, falling into step beside his brother. "I wish there was something I could do, Ascar. It's not fair that they treat you this way."
Ascar shrugged, adjusting his glasses. "It is what it is. At least I have you, right?"
The brothers approached the academy's entrance, where a group of older students were gathering. Ascar recognized them as the usual suspects – the self-proclaimed "elite" of the student body, who took great pleasure in making Ascar's life miserable.
"Well, well, if it isn't the little bookworm," sneered the group's ringleader, a burly youth named Garrett. "And he's brought his tag-along brother, too."
Osias bristled, his hands balling into fists, but Ascar placed a restraining hand on his arm.
"Let's just go, Osias," he murmured. "It's not worth it."
Garrett and his cronies laughed, but Ascar and Osias hurried past, keeping their heads down. Ascar could feel the familiar sting of humiliation, but he refused to give the bullies the satisfaction of seeing his distress.
Once inside the academy, Ascar made his way to his first-period class, Osias trailing behind him. The other students' taunts and jeers followed him down the corridors, and Ascar couldn't help but feel a growing sense of dread.
"Why do they have to be so cruel?" he muttered under his breath.
Osias placed a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder. "Don't let them get to you, Ascar. You're better than all of them."
Ascar managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Osias. I just wish I could convince myself of that sometimes."
The brothers parted ways, Osias heading to his own class while Ascar took his seat at the back of the room. As the lesson began, Ascar tried to focus on the lecture, but his mind kept wandering, replaying the morning's encounter with the bullies.
By the time the lunch bell rang, Ascar was physically and emotionally drained. He made his way to the dining hall, where he and Osias usually shared a quiet meal together, away from the prying eyes of their peers.
As Ascar settled into their usual spot, he couldn't help but overhear the conversations of the other students. They were all talking about the upcoming Solstice Festival, a celebration that marked the turning of the seasons and the beginning of a new year.
"I can't wait for the festival," one girl gushed. "My parents are taking me to the city to watch the fireworks display."
Ascar sighed, his appetite diminishing. The Solstice Festival had always been a source of both excitement and dread for him. On one hand, it was a chance to enjoy the festive atmosphere and spend time with his family. But on the other, it meant dealing with the constant pressure to conform and fit in with the rest of the community.
Osias soon arrived, carrying a tray laden with food. He sat down beside his brother, immediately picking up on Ascar's somber mood.
"What's wrong?" Osias asked, his brow furrowed with concern.
Ascar shook his head. "It's nothing, really. Just… thinking about the Solstice Festival, that's all."
Osias nodded sympathetically. "I know it's hard for you, Ascar. But you know, maybe this year will be different. Maybe you'll actually have fun for a change."
Ascar managed a wry smile. "I doubt it. You know how Father is about these kinds of traditions. He'll expect me to behave 'properly' and 'uphold the family honor.'"
The brothers fell silent, both of them painfully aware of the constant pressure Ascar faced from their father, Arther Wythers. As the patriarch of the Wythers family, Arther demanded nothing less than perfection from his children, and the 17-year-old Ascar often felt like he could never quite live up to his father's expectations.
The tension at home was another source of Ascar's distress. His parents, Arther and Kathryne, seemed to be in a constant state of conflict, their arguments often spilling over into the family's daily life. Ascar hated the way his mother and father would bicker and yell, their voices echoing through the halls of their modest home.
"I wish they would just stop fighting," Ascar murmured, pushing his food around on his plate.
Osias, the 15-year-old, reached across the table, giving Ascar's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I know, Ascar. I know."
The brothers finished their meal in a somber silence, each lost in their own thoughts. As they made their way back to their respective classrooms, Ascar couldn't help but feel a growing sense of despair. His life felt like a never-ending cycle of bullying, family tensions, and the crushing weight of his father's expectations.
But deep down, Ascar knew that he couldn't keep living this way. There had to be something more, some way to break free from the confines of his mundane existence. Little did he know, his chance for a fresh start was just around the corner.