Chapter 1: The Village

The rain hammered against the windows, casting shadows over the quiet village. Axton stood by the window, staring out at the world beyond—so familiar, yet so distant. The other children ran through the muddy streets, laughing as they wielded their elemental powers effortlessly. Fire crackled, water surged, and the earth bent beneath their hands like it was second nature.

But not for him.

Axton's hands were empty.

In a village like this, power was everything. And he had none. At least, none that he could see. The whispers from the older villagers never stopped, even when they thought he couldn't hear them.

Not a word about his potential. Not a sign of the abilities he should have inherited.

Turning away from the window, Axton glanced at the small room he called home. His foster parents, William and Evelyn, were busy in the kitchen. They always kept to themselves, never mentioning his past, and always careful not to ask too many questions. But sometimes, Axton felt the weight of their silence. There was something they weren't telling him, something that gnawed at him, deep down.

But they never spoke of it.

Not once.

Axton walked to his bed, the floor creaking beneath him. His fingers brushed over the books scattered on the table. Stories of ancient heroes, people who wielded unimaginable power, who changed the world with the flick of their wrists. He longed to feel that, to have something inside him that made him stand out.

He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there before he felt it—a strange pressure building in his chest. A warmth, almost like a spark igniting in his heart.

His fingers twitched.

Axton blinked. Was it happening? Was something awakening inside him? He closed his eyes, hoping to focus, to feel it, whatever it was.

The warmth faded, and Axton opened his eyes, confused and disappointed. Nothing.

The rain continued to pour outside.

Axton stood there for a moment, staring at his hands, half-expecting something to happen. But nothing came. He had felt it—the stirrings of power, something deep inside him that had always been absent. But now that it was gone, it felt almost like a cruel joke, something his mind had conjured in desperation.

He sighed and let his hands fall to his sides, feeling the cool dampness of the room seep into his skin. Outside, the children were still playing, their laughter echoing through the streets. A jolt of bitterness twisted in his gut as he looked out at them, carefree in their abilities, their magic a natural extension of who they were. He had seen them grow up, every one of them mastering their abilities , and yet here he was—still powerless, still waiting for something to awaken.

His thoughts were interrupted by the familiar sound of his foster father's voice calling from the kitchen.

"Axton, dinner's ready!" William's voice was warm but distant, like it always was. There was something in his tone, something that made Axton feel like an outsider in his own home, as if they were all playing some unspoken game.

Axton hesitated, glancing back toward the window. It was tempting to stay there, to lose himself in his thoughts and the rain, but the hunger gnawing at his stomach reminded him that there was no point in avoiding the inevitable.

He turned and made his way to the kitchen, where the warm, earthy scent of stew filled the air. Evelyn, his foster mother, was busy placing the last of the bowls on the table. Her movements were swift and practiced, as always. Axton couldn't remember a time when she had looked at him with anything other than a polite, distant affection. It was as if he didn't belong.

"Sit down, Axton," William said, motioning to the empty seat across from him. "We need to talk."

Axton's heart skipped a beat. There it was again—the feeling that something was wrong, that something was about to shift, just like the quiet tension in the air before a storm. He had heard those words before, but tonight felt different. His instincts prickled with unease.

"What is it?" Axton asked, his voice more tense than he intended.

William exchanged a glance with Evelyn before answering. "There's talk of the academy coming to the village soon. They're looking for candidates."

Axton froze, his fork hovering in midair. The academy. The place that trained the most powerful mages, the place where children with real potential were chosen to learn the true nature of their magic. A place that was far beyond the reach of someone like him.

"I'm sure it's just rumors," Evelyn added quickly, as if trying to downplay the weight of the conversation. "But, you should be prepared, just in case."

Axton's mind raced. His heart thudded in his chest. Could it be? Was there a chance for him? But the doubt lingered in his mind like a dark cloud. After all, what did he have to offer? What could he show them? His lack of power had been the only thing that defined him for years.

"I know you've been thinking about this," William continued, his voice softer now. "You've heard the stories. We've all heard them. But you'll find your way. We're proud of you, no matter what."

Axton forced a smile, the words not quite reaching his eyes. His foster parents tried, he knew they did, but their love always felt… restrained. Like they were waiting for something to happen, but couldn't bring themselves to say it.

As the conversation drifted back to ordinary things, Axton couldn't shake the feeling that the night had shifted. That something was coming. And deep down, he wasn't sure if it was hope or fear that kept him on edge.

The storm outside had settled, but the storm in his chest was just beginning.