The sun blazed high over the Lunaria Kingdom, its rays reflecting off the cobblestone streets as the bustling crowd filled the air with chatter and laughter. Yet, amidst the lively atmosphere, an odd hush spread wherever people turned their attention to a single figure cutting through the crowd—a teenage boy, around sixteen, walking with his head low and hands buried deep in his hoodie pockets. The hood cast a shadow over his face, but the tension in his posture betrayed his awareness of the countless eyes pinned on him.

Murmurs followed him, harsh whispers he had grown all too accustomed to hearing.

"Why is he out here?"

"Does he think he belongs with us?"

"Stay away from him. The curse might spread."

The boy's name was Sean. He felt the stares like daggers on his back, but he kept moving, his pace steady and unyielding. The people didn't step aside out of respect—no, it was disgust and fear. They treated him as though he carried a plague, a contagion they couldn't afford to let touch their lives.

But Sean was long past caring. Years of enduring the venomous words and disdain had dulled his emotions. He had learned to bury his pain deep, so deep that even he sometimes doubted it existed.

As he neared the orphanage—a crumbling old building that had been his only home for as long as he could remember—Sean's thoughts drifted back to his beginnings. Or rather, the lack of them.

The nannies at the orphanage had told him the same story every time he asked about his past.

"We found you in a basket on our doorstep," they would say with a mix of pity and unease. "You were just a baby."

A baby left behind. Unwanted.

Life hadn't improved much since then. The turning point had come when Sean was ten years old. The kingdom conducted its grand magical aptitude tests to identify children with potential for the prestigious Lunaria Academy of Magic and Science. It was a day that every child in the kingdom dreamed of.

For Sean, it had been a nightmare.

When the crystal orb refused to glow in his hands, the proctors declared him a "Blank Slate." No magic. No potential. A void. The words rang like a death knell in his ears.

From that moment on, everything changed. His friends drifted away, their parents forbidding them from associating with him. Strangers sneered at him on the streets. Even the orphanage staff, who once treated him with warmth, began to keep their distance.

Sean clenched his fists at the memory, his knuckles white under the weight of his frustration. It wasn't just the magic test that sealed his fate—it was the belief ingrained in Lunaria's society: without magic, you were less than human.

He thought back to a day at the park not long ago. A child had accidentally kicked a ball his way. Sean had caught it and tossed it back with a small smile. The boy's mother, however, had rushed over, glaring at Sean with an expression of pure revulsion before dragging her son away, leaving the ball behind like it was tainted.

Was it his fault he was born this way? The question haunted him daily.

Every two years, the Lunaria Academy hosted a grand magic-reading ceremony, luring children from all corners of the kingdom with promises of power, wealth, and status. Parents pushed their children forward, hoping they would pass the test. Sean, however, had no illusions. He knew he wouldn't bother attending this year, just as he hadn't in years past. What was the point?

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice that he had already reached the orphanage. The building loomed before him, its once-bright façade now dulled and peeling. With a heavy sigh, Sean pushed the door open and stepped inside. The familiar scent of freshly baked bread and the faint scent of lavender greeted him. The room was alive with the chatter of children, laughter ringing out as they chased one another around the small space. Toys clattered against the floor, and the faint sound of a baby crying in the distance mixed into the lively ambiance. It was a scene that would warm any heart—except Sean's.

As soon as he stepped in, the lively atmosphere faltered. The younger children stopped running and turned to look at him. Whispers began to ripple across the room like an unwanted gust of wind. Some stared openly, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and disdain. Others quickly turned away, pretending to be occupied with their games, though their words floated clearly toward Sean.

"Why is he back so early?"

"Doesn't he feel embarrassed walking around like that?"

"Mom always said cursed people bring bad luck. Maybe that's why we never get adopted."

Sean clenched his fists in his pockets but kept his face impassive. Their words hurt, but he had learned to live with them. It was as if their disdain were a heavy coat he'd been wearing for years. He walked past them without saying a word. The muffled footsteps of a nanny trying to intervene reached his ears.

"Children, enough of that!" the nanny scolded, her voice firm but weary. Her name was Martha, and she was one of the few adults who treated Sean with a semblance of kindness. "Sean's had a long day. Leave him be."

But even her defense felt half-hearted. Sean could hear the pity in her voice, a pity that stung almost as much as the insults. He gave Martha a small nod as he climbed the stairs to his room. It wasn't much—a small bed shoved into the corner, a wooden desk, and a single window that overlooked the bustling streets of the kingdom. This was his sanctuary.

He flopped onto his bed and stared up at the wooden beams of the ceiling. The whispers and stares followed him like ghosts, replaying in his mind.

*"Why me?"* he thought bitterly. It was a question that haunted him every day. Why was he born without magic in a world where magic was as vital as breathing? Why did his parents abandon him? And why, no matter how hard he tried, did the world refuse to accept him?

The ceiling seemed to shift and blur as his thoughts spiraled.

His memories wandered to the magic reading event two years ago. He remembered standing in line with the other kids, his heart pounding in anticipation. Each child placed their hand on the glowing crystal orb, which would radiate light corresponding to their magical affinity—blue for water, red for fire, green for earth, and so on. When it was his turn, the crystal didn't even flicker. The silence that followed was deafening. The instructor cleared his throat awkwardly and moved on to the next child as if Sean didn't exist.

From that moment, Sean's life became a living nightmare. His friends abandoned him, their parents forbidding them from associating with someone "cursed." The townsfolk shunned him, and even the orphanage that had once been his safe haven began to feel like a prison.