Ethan followed Professor Elira down the cold, stone corridors of the academy, the sting of the fight still fresh in his chest. His body ached where Jarek had beaten him, and his mind was a whirlwind of confusion. He had no idea what had happened in the yard when the magic surged through him, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. He had been so close to losing control. His hands shook, and his pulse still pounded in his ears as they walked together in silence.
Professor Elira's footsteps were measured, calm. She was trying to maintain composure for his sake, but Ethan could see the subtle tension in her movements, the careful way she watched him as they made their way to her office. He had always been the quiet, overlooked student, but now… now something had happened. Something that could change everything.
They reached her office—a small, intimate room tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the academy. Elira opened the door and gestured for Ethan to enter.
"Stay here for a moment," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "I need to speak with the headmaster."
Ethan nodded numbly and sat down near the window. The room smelled of old books and parchment, a familiar scent that somehow did nothing to comfort him. His mind kept drifting back to the fight—how helpless he had felt against Jarek's brutality. But then… then there had been something else. That strange force, that overwhelming surge of energy. He still couldn't explain it, but he couldn't ignore it either.
A few minutes later, Professor Elira returned, closing the door behind her. She took a seat across from Ethan, her face serious. For a moment, she didn't speak, as if she were collecting her thoughts, weighing how best to address him.
"You're lucky," she said finally, her voice steady, yet carrying a weight of concern. "That kind of violence could have seriously hurt you. Jarek's anger knows no boundaries, and you were left vulnerable."
Ethan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The pain from his bruises had begun to subside, but the humiliation of being beaten in front of everyone lingered. "I didn't mean for it to happen," he muttered. "I just wanted to get through the day without… without any more trouble."
Elira's expression softened, but she didn't offer pity. That wasn't what Ethan needed. She studied him for a moment, her keen eyes taking in every detail—the way he held his shoulders, the hesitation in his voice. She knew that the pain he felt wasn't just physical.
"I understand," she said, her tone more understanding than he expected. "The academy can be a tough place, Ethan. You're not the only one who faces these kinds of challenges. But there's something I need to make clear: no matter what happens, no matter how much they push you, you have to endure."
Ethan frowned, unsure of what she meant. "Endure? You don't understand. It's not just the fights. They're always there, whispering, calling me a freak. Like I don't belong here."
Elira leaned forward, her gaze unwavering. "I do understand. More than you think. I know what it's like to feel like an outsider. It doesn't make the cruelty any easier, but it also doesn't define you. What matters is how you respond. How you stand tall in the face of it."
Ethan's mind flashed back to the taunts, the cruel words Jarek had spit at him in the courtyard. "But I'm not strong like the others. I don't have magic. I don't have what they have."
She gave him a small, knowing smile. "You don't need to be like everyone else. You only need to be strong enough to hold your ground."
Ethan's gaze fell to the floor. He had heard those words before—often from his mother, when he was younger, when he had been too afraid to stand up for himself. But now, in this cold office, it felt harder to believe.
"I don't know if I can do it anymore," Ethan whispered, more to himself than to her. "Every day it's the same. They push me, they make me feel like I don't matter. I just want it to stop."
Elira didn't say anything for a long moment, but Ethan could see the sympathy in her eyes. She had seen this before. "The world will always have those who try to bring you down, Ethan. The trick is to let them talk, to let them try, and to keep moving forward."
Her words hit him harder than he expected. How long had he spent letting their words take root in his mind? How much of his life had he given up to their ridicule?
"I can't promise it will be easy," Elira continued, her voice lowering with sincerity, "but I can promise this: you are not alone in this fight. There will always be people who will stand by you. You just have to be strong enough to accept their help."
Ethan's throat tightened as he tried to process her words. He had always been alone in the sense that no one had ever truly understood the weight of what he carried. But for the first time, the idea that he wasn't entirely alone felt… possible.
"Thank you," he said quietly, looking up at her. "I'll try. I'll keep going."
Elira gave him an encouraging nod. "That's all anyone can ask of you. Just keep going."
---
After leaving her office, Ethan couldn't shake the feeling that something was still off. The conversation with Elira had been comforting, yes, but he was still haunted by the cruel whispers of his classmates, the constant reminder that he was different. Even now, as he walked through the academy hallways on his way to his next class, the stares and whispers followed him like shadows.
"Freak."
"Stay away from him."
"Did you hear? He's the one who got beat up by Jarek. What a loser."
Ethan's stomach twisted as the words cut through the air. But this time, instead of retreating into himself, he took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. He had endured their cruelty for so long. What could they possibly do now?
His classes passed in a blur, each lesson slipping through his mind like water through his fingers. He couldn't focus, not with the weight of his emotions pulling him in every direction. It wasn't just the bullying that wore him down—it was the isolation, the constant feeling that he would never belong. Not here. Not anywhere.
By the time the bell rang signaling the end of the day, Ethan was exhausted. He quickly gathered his things, eager to leave the academy and head home to the solitude that awaited him. The quiet of his small house was both a relief and a burden. No voices. No taunts. But also no one to talk to. No one who truly understood.
As he walked toward the academy gates, the cold evening air bit at his skin, and a feeling of dread settled in his chest. He didn't know why, but something about today felt different. As if the weight of everything was finally catching up with him.
And then, just as he was about to step out of the gate, he saw them again.
Jarek.
The same gang of bullies stood there, as if waiting for him.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't the academy's biggest loser," Jarek sneered, stepping forward to block his path. "I'm surprised you made it out in one piece after our little... session."
Ethan stopped, his heart hammering in his chest. He had hoped to make it home without incident, but fate had other plans.
"You're not so tough without your magic, are you?" Jarek continued, his voice dripping with malice. "Maybe you should just leave. Save us the trouble of dealing with you."
Ethan's mouth went dry. He was used to Jarek's insults, but the sheer cruelty of his tone made his insides churn. He took a cautious step back, his eyes darting around for a way out. But the bullies were closing in, and he couldn't see a way past them.
And then, just as he was about to speak, he saw a teacher approaching from the distance. It was Professor Taren, a senior instructor known for his stern demeanor and no-nonsense attitude. His presence was like a wave crashing over the bullies, and they immediately froze.
Professor Taren's eyes locked onto Jarek and his gang, and his voice rang out sharply. "What is going on here, gentlemen?"
Jarek's bravado faltered. He glanced nervously at the teacher, then back at Ethan. Without a word, he motioned for his friends to move aside, and the group quickly dispersed.
Ethan stood there, still feeling the sting of their words, but now there was a glimmer of hope. Professor Taren didn't even look at him as he passed, but his presence had been enough to stop the bullying, for now.
Ethan's heart thudded as he watched the group scatter. His breath came in shallow bursts, but the brief relief didn't last long. As he turned to leave, the same old fear crept back into his mind. The fear of facing the world alone.
As he walked home, his footsteps slow and heavy, the same question lingered in his mind: How much longer could he keep enduring?