1. NUMBER ONE SUCKER FOR MAGIC!
Wow!
This has to be Master Kin'ezk's best spell yet, Shan thought. Not that he had a lot to compare it to, but still— electricity crackling from someone's fingertips was impressive, even to him. Shan wasn't really sure why his father thought these extra lessons might actually help him in any way, though.
Shan argued within himself! Asking some half-blind, washed-up, middle-aged excuse for a mage to teach me the basics? It's a joke, right? I'm the heir to the throne of Sorcerene! And yet, here I was, sitting on cold tile floors, watching this geezer try to pull off kindergarten-level spells.
What a rip-off.
Okay, let's back up a bit. This young and sarcastic boy was Shan Vera. He was a mage— well, technically. Getting back to that in a minute. Shan Vera was the firstborn son of Ti'zhan Vera, Clan Prince of the glorious magic nation, Sorcerene. One would have thought that Shan Vera was lucky to be bon as a potential heir for the throne, right? He got to be the subject of everyone's gossip. The whole damn nation knew his name, knew my lineage. But do you know what they did know know?
Shan Vera had no magic, zilch.
Yep, right off the bat. He was a freakin' royal mage with zero magic potential. None. Nada. It's not like he was not trying, either. Shan Vera did all he could, he has the bloodline of the greatest of their clan mages right from their very ancestors running through his veins—surely that counts for something, right? But apparently not.
At that time, most kids unlocked their mana core by the age of ten or eleven. It's like clockwork. They show a few sparks, get excited, and boom, they're casting spells by the time they hit their teenage years. But Shan? He showed nothing. Not a damn thing. His parents were in a full-blown panic by the time he turned eleven. They brought in specialists, healers, every kind of magical expert one can imagine, all trying to FORCE the magic out of him. But he was still a blank slate.
To put a cherry on his problems, he was a few months shy of fifteen, and his mana core was about as solid as smoke in the wind
By Sorcerene standards, he was a disgrace. He was the heir who couldn't do magic or even feel the so called arcane and primal entanglements of the universe's fabric. The prince without power. Talk about embarrassing.
And now, instead of being out there, doing cool magical stuff like every other teenager in Sorcerene, he was stuck here, in holiday school. Yes, that's right. Summer break? His father's solution to his magical impotence was to enroll him in extra lessons with Master Kin'ezk, a guy whose best days were centuries ago.
"Shan," a voice called, snapping him out of his thoughts.
It was Master Kin'ezk, with his sagging robes and his sagging face. Shan did not like the guy much, even though he was supposed to be a two-star Warzerone— a master war magician.
Pfft. Master of what? Bad smells and ugly grimaces here? He mocked within.
"Yes," He replied, barely masking the irritation in his voice. It was customary to address your superiors by their formal titles, but guess what? Shan did not play by the rules. Why? Because he was rude. Or at least, that was what everyone kept telling him.
"Watch this!" Master Kin'ezk said, pulling up his sleeve to reveal his wrinkled, pasty arm. He made the hand signs for a basic lightning spell— pointer finger forward, middle finger curved in, thumb pointed up. His last two fingers pressed against his palm. He muttered the words, "Draeyu Krae'yyft!"
A spark of blue lightning crackled from his fingertips, zipping through the air before fizzling out a few feet away.
"Whoa…" Shan could not help but feel a little impressed. Even if it was basic level stuff, but seeing a Warzerone pull it off with such ease, without even needing a mana seal? That was something else.
"You didn't even need to draw a magic seal circle," Shan muttered, instantly regretting the compliment as the old mage gave him an ugly smile— a smile that looked like a goat trying to chew on barbed wire.
"Of course not," he said, nodding in that slow, condescending way that made Shan want to punch him. "You may not have activated your astonishing and unstoppable magic yet, but you have more knowledge of ancient history than any other student I've taught."
Oh great. So now I'm the nerd with no magic. That's just fantastic. Shan thought.
Funny thing, though. When you're the son of the great Ti'zhan Vera, everyone in Sorcerene just assumes that your magic is some kind of legendary, god-tier power that's locked deep within you, just waiting for the perfect moment to burst forth and blow everyone away. Some people even whisper that Shan been cursed by the gods of magic thenselves— his power too dangerous to be unleashed.
But Shan was pretty sure that was all bullshit. His younger brother unlocked his magic at age two, and his sister by age four. And here he was, fourteen and the runner up for the"Embarrassment of the Year" award, and still nothing to show for his meager existence.
Soon, all the other Mrizuens— magical students— would be tested in the Five Trials. The ones who passed would get scouted by prestigious mentors, or they could choose their path— whether it was becoming a Warzerone like Master Kin'ezk, or a Nuclier, or a Viuei, or one of the other magical professions. One would get a mage name to show the world who they truly are. His father's mage name translated to "Magic of the God-Kings." His aunt's name meant "The Way of the Spirits." His? It would probably end up being something like "Dogshit," because that was how he feel about his magic.
Master Kin'ezk was still yammering away about his spell, trying to show Shan the proper hand positions again. He wasn't really paying attention.
"Thanks, Master Kin'ezk, but maybe we should just accept that my magic is... gone," he said, trying to sound polite but clearly failing. Saying that hurt him the most.
The old man wasn't buying his sorry act. "Don't say that, young lord. You're a rare gem in the rough! If we can overcome this hurdle, I believe your power will soar beyond even your comprehension."
Blah, blah, blah. Same lecture, different day. Shan surprised the urge to yawn
But the thing was, Master Kin'ezk was one of the only people who hadn't completely given up on him yet. For some inexplicable reason, he actually believed in Shan's latent potential. And a tiny part of him— very tiny— didn't want to let him down. So, Shan stood up, feeling the hard tiles beneath his feet.
What could it hurt to try one more time, right?
His eyes lit up as Shan got into position. "Does that mean you'll give it a try?" he asked eagerly.
The young boy sighed, running a hand through my silk hair. There was only one appropriate response to that.
He raised my hand, made a fist, and extended his middle finger.
"Fuck off, asshole," he said with a smirk. No way was he fooling himself again.
Master Kin'ezk just chuckled, shaking his head. "You have spirit, my lord. I'll give you that."
Yeah, that was who Shan Vera was: THE NUMBER ONE SUCKER FOR MAGIC.
The truth was, though, he did want it. More than anything. To feel that raw power coursing through him. To wield magic like it was an extension of my body. But for now? He was just a kid, desperately trying to live up to a legacy he couldn't touch.
And as far as he was concerned, if the world thought I was a joke, then fine. He would be the biggest joke they'd ever seen.
But one day, they wouldn't be laughing anymore.