Months had passed since that fateful day. My parents didn't hate me, nor did they shun me, though I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being kept at arm's length. They told themselves it was because I needed to be protected.
They believed I was cursed by Zephros himself, and my father, ever the desperate one, scoured the kingdom for anyone who could cure me. But there were no records in history of a child ever receiving nothing.
Meanwhile, they poured everything into my little brother. I didn't hate him. Not really.
It wasn't his fault he had received a skill and I hadn't. Had I been a child, perhaps jealousy would've consumed me. But I had lived a first life, one I had wasted.
And now, maybe this second life would be another I'd squander.
I spent my days holed up in the library, desperately trying to focus on books, yet no matter how hard I tried, my thoughts never stayed still. My mind always wandered.
"Argh!"
I felt something sharp hit my head, jolting me from my thoughts. Frowning, I turned to see my brother standing there,. Zavel. As much as I didn't blame him for my current misfortune, something about seeing him, so full of life, so capable...
It hurt my pride.
"Study," he said sternly.
He'd always been so serious, so driven, even when we were children. And it grated on me. After all, I was mentally older than him! I had the wisdom of a past life, even if I hadn't used it wisely.
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, rolling my eyes.
"You're like a child,"
"Hey! Show some respect for your elders!" I snapped back, though the irritation didn't last long. We both laughed. At least we still shared that laughter amid the disappointment, despite everything that had changed.
I didn't want to hate him. I didn't want to repeat the mistakes of my previous life, where I'd become distant from my little brother, acting like the "mature" one while resenting him. But it was hard.
It was hard when I was so blatantly ignored.
At the academy, Zavel was the star. Boys flocked to him, and even girls like Lady Viola, daughter of a minor house, the one I secretly admired would gaze at him with adoration.
I'd walk behind them through the hallways, watching her shyly glance at him, her cheeks flushed with that sweet, innocent admiration.
And it hit me.
She was in love with him.
For weeks, I stood on the sidelines, my passion for life slowly fading.
I watched as Zavel practiced his magic skill, improving by the day while I remained stagnant.
Zavel stood in the training yard, his stance steady as he focused on the dummies ahead.
He reached out, fingers tracing the air, and with a snap of his fingers, the first dummy disintegrated in an instant.
Its wood aged and decayed, reduced to rubble in a single moment.
He exhaled sharply, sweat beading on his forehead, and moved to the next target.
This time, he manipulated time to freeze the dummy in place, its frame trembling as he slowed its motion to a halt.
With a flick of his wrist, it shattered into splinters, the force of the explosion making the ground shake beneath him.
Panting, he wiped his brow, already feeling the toll of the skill.
Chrono-Morphosis was powerful, but it drained him quickly.
He steadied himself, focusing on the next dummy.
Zavel stood still for a moment, catching his breath, the sweat on his brow a reminder of how taxing the skill was. He clenched his fists. He wasn't there yet, but with every practice, he was one step closer.
I stood there, completely awestruck, watching Zavel.
His power was undeniable. He was so... strong.
And as I watched him, I couldn't help but glance at myself.
There was an unmistakable gap between us, one that seemed to widen every time he succeeded. But then again, I hadn't lost everything. I still had a family, a roof over my head, wealth. So why was I still so... sad? Wasn't this better than my first life?
Huh... What happened to my first life again?
I tried to shake the thought, but it lingered until the memories suddenly resurfaced. Memories of the endless taunts and ridicule at school.
I had always been the odd one out, the quiet, weird kid who never fit in. That day was no different.
I was walking down the hallway, minding my own business, when a group of boys, the usual crowd, stepped in front of me, blocking my path.
"Hey, look who it is. The loser who's still trying to figure out how to live," one of them jeered, shoving me hard in the chest.
Another laughed. "What's wrong, no skill? No magic? Guess that makes you nothing, huh?"
My hand twitched. The anger, the frustration, it swelled inside me. I was nothing, just like they said. A failure. But I wasn't going to take it anymore.
Before I knew it, my fist swung out, hitting the boy square in the face. There was a sickening crunch, the sound of bone shattering. He dropped to the ground, blood pouring from his nose, staining the floor. The others around me gasped, their laughter gone in an instant.
"What's your problem, freak?" he sneered.
The words, the smirk, the pity in their eyes. It was too much. I could feel the anger rising in me, the years of rejection, the weight of being the failure, all of it building up like a storm.
No more.
Before I knew what was happening, I shoved him harder this time, sending him stumbling into a wall. His friends gasped and stepped back, clearly unsure how to react. The boy, now flushed with anger, shoved me back.
"Don't touch me, loser!" he yelled.
I could hear the others laughing behind him, egging him on. They didn't know what it felt like to be nothing. They didn't know how it felt to be the joke everyone laughs at.
"Come on, fight me," he taunted.
I didn't wait for a second round. My hand grabbed his wrist, pulling him toward me with all my strength. The moment he was close enough, I swung, not with the intent to kill, but to make a point. My fist slammed into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped, doubling over, but I didn't stop there.
I pushed him back against the wall, my face inches from his. "You think you know what it's like to be nothing? Try walking in my shoes."
The hallway was dead silent now, everyone watching, even some of the teachers who'd heard the commotion. The boy's eyes widened as he looked at me, his bravado fading. I could see his chest rise and fall rapidly, his face pale.
I let go of him, stepping back. I didn't care that I had struck him. He deserved it. They all did.