Void

Hubert sat on his bed, lonely and quiet. 

The occasional lively shouting could be heard just outside his window, where students talked and conversed with each other.

"So, which learning hall did you choose?" a male student asked with an excited voice, his back facing Hubert, who watched from the window.

"Hmm… I feel like the third learning hall would be nice, the hall master is cute, after all," a female student responded with the same tone.

Then her eyes, vibrant and gleaming with happiness, noticed Hubert, watching them. Startled, she turned her eyes away, grabbed the male student's hand, and pulled him away.

Hubert was once again alone, with only the silence that befriended him.

He was suspended from any activities on academy grounds. All because of the incident that happened earlier that day, a mystery where even the most capable hall master had no idea of the cause.

His mana mind was deemed violent. It was too strong and aggressive that it succeeded in manifesting itself partially in the real world while Hubert was still unconscious.

The solution they had come up with was to put Hubert in his room, isolating him. Where even his dinner was said to be delivered by one of the hall masters.

"Is this a talent, or is this a curse?" Hubert asked himself. 

Of course, he was questioning himself.

He had come a long way, too long of a journey, too much arduous struggle, and countless hours of pain. All of that resulted in a vain and fruitless conclusion.

"Why?" he asked.

He thought of the answer, yet none came up in his mind. It didn't make sense, his effort, betrayed by the result.

Standing up, he looked to the window. Its frame, made of wood.

"Should I just…" he muttered hesitantly, glancing at the thin barrier of glass that had separated him from the outside world.

Then he looked at the wooden door, the portal to freedom. Yet he knew the knob was locked tightly, not only by a single key, but also by multiple spells that were chanted on it.

He felt confined.

"Why…?" he asked once again. The word haunted him again, like it always did, since he was a young watchman.

Growing frustrated, he clenched his fist and bit a small part of his lips, slightly growling. He couldn't accept this, he wouldn't. He knew he had done good, he knew he was righteous all his life.

"But why?! Why is fate playing with me? Why is the Godd-" he stopped, his frustration in a raging fight with his faith.

Hubert had prayed for strength and blessing from the Goddess since he was a kid. Defiling the deity he served since he was barely a toddler was something he wasn't daring enough to do.

"But… Why are you so cruel?" Hubert asked, his anger and frustration dissipating.

He knew, in the end, the only way out of this was to accept what had and will be done to him. Giving up, he dropped to his bed, returning to the sitting position he was in before.

His eyes then looked up upon the reflection of the standing mirror that sat, unmoved, on the corner. He admired himself and reminisced, the only source of enjoyment from the quiet and lifeless room.

People in his village would call him handsome, praising his black hair and eyes, mysterious and attractive. Though some called him burdensome, easily scared and cowardly. That was when he thought of his purpose, proving everyone wrong about him being a coward.

When the watchmen came to the village, they were welcomed by kids and women like a hero. But most young men would usually hide themselves from the watchmen's sight, in an attempt to escape their merciless recruiting.

One rule: Any men capable of wielding a weapon would be acceptable.

That was when Hubert, in search of glory and fame, stepped forward, though his decision was supported slightly by his ailing mother. That eventful day would be the day, the Village of Penfirth, got a single new recruit of watchman.

"Who would have thought, I would end up here," he murmured, before placing his head on the soft and cold mattress. The ceiling, monotone and stagnant.

Bored, his vision became blurry.

—

"Hall masters," the headmaster called out.

"Headmaster!" the hall masters' voices echoed through the room, mingling with each other.

They then stood side by side in uniform, awaiting questions to be thrown at them from the headmaster.

"So… Hubert?" she asked, her tone slightly hesitant and curious.

"Yes, headmaster!" the hall masters answered in harmony.

"One by one. First, what is your opinion, June, you should be well versed in this after all," the headmaster said, pointing out.

The third hallmaster opened her mouth.

"There is no recorded or historical character that matched his mana mind to the fullest. But there is one person with a mana mind that slightly resembles his," June said, explaining after the quick research she did after the incident.

"Tell me, who is that person?" the headmaster pressed onward.

"Archmage Archaus. One key difference between the two is their characteristics of mana mind, one was mentioned to be soft and whispering, the other, as we previously witnessed, was violent, too violent," June answered shortly.

"..." the headmaster's silence responded back as she thought for a bit. Staring at the orange sky as the sun set in the far horizon and the flocks of birds that flew in the air freely.

"What… Do you think of this, Xillian?" the headmaster asked.

The fourth hall master opened his mouth, his square glasses reflective of the sunlight that poured into the room.

"Yes, headmaster! As June has explained, I too believe that his mana mind resembles that of Archmage Archaus. But I can't draw a quick conclusion to the similarity of the two since we lack data on either Archmage nor Hubert. One thing I could say for sure is that, based on my theoretical analysis, the student has an immense talent in magic, especially his destructive capabilities," Xillian explained, his tone straight.

"I see… Veronica and Marcus, keep an eye on him. June and Xillian, find anything, I want any historical documents and theories that could relate between the two," the headmaster commanded.

"Yes, headmaster!" the hall masters echoed, obeying her command with a humble bow.

"Dismissed!" the headmaster said, her voice echoing through the room. Followed by the quick dashing sounds.

Then the room was silent.

"At this point, this is just too much of a problem," the headmaster muttered, seemingly annoyed by the constant events that happened concerning a single student.

"But, I'm even more curious about him now. Should I really…" the headmaster wondered. Glancing over the paper on her table, a paper that contained Hubert's information.

The word, potential student, stamped on it.

—

"Coward!" a voice called Hubert from his dream.

"Huh? What was that?" Hubert opened his eyes, finding himself enshrouded by the uncomfortable and endless darkness.

"Coward!" the voice called again, sounding from behind.

He turned around, his eyes darting around, sweat trickling down his forehead as he clenched his fist. His body slightly bent forward and his feet planted sternly on the ground, ready for any attack.

"Coward!" the voice called again, once again, coming from behind.

He looked around, becoming more nervous each second as the dreadful darkness surrounded him.

"Stop!" he shouted.

Then the gale of wind, as strong as before, came out of nowhere and hit him straight on his face.

"Ugh?!" he groaned, taken aback by the sudden attack.

Then the gale became stronger, pulling his face muscles back, rendering him barely able to talk.

"N-no!" he exclaimed defiantly.

The gale continued, becoming harsher, pulling his body back, just like before.

"I-I wi…ll no…t gi…ve up!" he resisted, intending not to give in to the attack.

The gale improved once again, this time, it was so strong that he felt that his feet were slightly lifted from the ground. Yet he bent downward, pushing himself even more to the ground.

Woosh!

And the last sound of the wind breezed past his ear, and disappeared as quickly as it had come.

"What was that?" he asked, his body shaky and unbalanced, disoriented from the attack.

He turned around repeatedly, expecting another gale from an unexpected direction or directions. Yet he was left with the darkness.

—

It was approaching midnight. The office, now lit up by the meager cold moonlight, contained the headmaster that remained sitting on her chair.

The paperworks that piled on her desk once were nowhere to be seen. She sat on her chair, sighing in relaxation as her eyes admired the moon.

A book sat on her thin, soft laps covered by the purple garment she wore. 

"Order," she muttered the word that was etched on its cover.

The book was then blanketed by a purple like energy and its pages flipped on its own. Only at a certain page did the flipping stopped.

Archmage Archaus, the .......... Of order of ...….

The .......... Of order of ...…. 

A member of ......…

Affinity: Void.