Awakening -1.

After taking a shower and having a quick breakfast, Azhrael strode through the corridors of the academy, his steps brisk and purposeful as he made his way to his destination.

He was an orphan, his origins shrouded in mystery even to himself. He had no recollection of how he had come to be at the academy, but the headmaster had taken him in and granted him admission when he turned sixteen—despite his lack of mana, an anomaly in a place like this.

Until then, though, he had not been allowed to live there for free. To earn his keep, Azhrael had taken up a part-time job at the academy library, a quiet sanctuary filled with knowledge. He managed the books and documents, ensuring everything was in order.

Thanks to his sharp intellect and knack for understanding complex topics, he often found himself assisting the professors with their research and administrative tasks.

As he walked, the occasional greetings from some students and faculty were met with polite nods. Though he wasn't formally part of the academy's student body, his presence was familiar to many.

He had carved out a quiet space for himself in this world, even as he remained an enigma to those around him.

He stood at the entrance of the library, his gaze sweeping over the vast space within.

Hundreds of shelves stretched endlessly, filled with books of varying ages, their spines worn yet proud. The air carried the familiar, comforting scent of aged paper and ink.

A grand chandelier hung in the center of the room, casting a soft, golden glow that illuminated the tables and desks arranged beneath it, creating an atmosphere both serene and studious.

As Azhrael stepped inside, his eyes immediately landed on the librarian's desk. A disorganized pile of books covered most of it, and in the midst of the chaos, a figure lay slumped over, partially hidden by the stacks.

Sighing deeply, Azhrael walked closer, stopping a few steps away. "Wake up, Mr. Kyle. It's morning," he called out, his voice raised just enough to cut through the silence.

The figure stirred, groaning as the books shifted slightly. Moments later, a middle-aged man with graying hair and a perpetually disheveled appearance peeked out from behind the books. His tired eyes brightened as he recognized Azhrael.

"Oh, thank the stars you're here!" Mr. Kyle exclaimed, stretching as he sat upright. "I didn't even realize I'd fallen asleep again."

Azhrael shook his head with a faint smile. "Good morning, Mr. Kyle. Looks like you had another long night."

"You could say that," Mr. Kyle replied, gesturing to the towering pile of books around him. "These reports and requests keep piling up, and I could really use your help sorting through them."

With a nod, Azhrael rolled up his sleeves. "Let's get started then."

Hours trickled by as Azhrael worked, his hands moving methodically as he sorted, organized, and cataloged the seemingly endless pile of books.

The comforting silence of the library was only broken by the occasional rustle of pages or the soft creak of shelves being filled.

Time seemed to blur as he lost himself in the rhythm of his task, and before he realized it, the once-daunting pile of books was finally finished.

Mr. Kyle approached him, his face a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Thanks, boy," he said, clapping Azhrael lightly on the shoulder. "This would've taken me twice as long without your help."

Azhrael gave a small smile, dusting his hands off. "It's no problem. Besides, it's part of the job, right?"

"Part of the job or not, you're a lifesaver," Mr. Kyle replied with a chuckle. He gestured toward the desk, where a small stack of neatly bound books sat waiting. "That stack there is for delivery to the professors. Think you could take care of it?"

Azhrael nodded, picking up the stack carefully. "Consider it done."

"Good lad," Kyle said, already turning his attention back to another section of the library. "If only half the kids here were as diligent as you."

With that, Azhrael exited the library, the books balanced easily in his hands as he made his way down the corridor.

"Hey, you manaless bastard!"

Azhrael's quiet steps came to an abrupt halt as the shout echoed through the quiet corner of the corridor. A firm hand clamped down on his shoulder, forcing him to turn.

"Is there a problem, David?" Azhrael asked, his voice calm but cold, his grey eyes meeting David's with a steady, unwavering gaze.

David sneered, his lips curling with disdain. "Hah, what's with that goddamn tone, you insect?"

Before Azhrael could respond, one of David's sidekicks stepped forward, his face twisted in anger. "You've got some nerve talking like that!" he yelled, swinging a fist toward Azhrael.

But Azhrael didn't flinch. With practiced ease, he sidestepped the clumsy punch, his movements fluid and precise. The sidekick stumbled forward, nearly losing his balance, while Azhrael stood unmoved, his expression unchanged.

"Are you done?" Azhrael asked, his tone colder than before. His eyes briefly flicked to the books in his hands before returning to David and his lackeys. "Or do you want to waste more of my time?"

David's face flushed with anger, but his smirk didn't waver. "You think dodging one punch makes you special? You're still just a useless manaless brat."

With a smug grin, David lunged forward. Azhrael could see the punch coming—he could track every movement, every detail—but his body refused to respond in time. The blow connected squarely with his stomach, a sharp pain blooming instantly.

The force of the impact knocked the wind out of his lungs, and the books he had been carrying slipped from his grasp, scattering across the floor. He flew backward, slamming hard against the stone wall with a dull thud.

Azhrael crumpled to the ground, clutching his stomach as he gasped for air. His gray eyes flickered with a dangerous glint despite the pain, but for the moment, he couldn't move.

David stood over him, triumphant. "What's wrong, bastard? Can't even defend yourself? You're nothing but a bug."

The sidekicks laughed, their mocking voices grating against Azhrael's ears as he slowly tried to push himself up.

"Maybe we should teach him a proper lesson," one of them said, stepping forward with a sneer.

David smirked. "Yeah, maybe that'll make him realize his place."

But even as Azhrael struggled to his feet, his eyes locked on David, cold and unyielding. Despite the pain, he didn't waver. Though, that didn't help him, David and his sidekicks lunged at him.

Punches, kicks, jabs connected each more painful than last. Blood flowed from his wounds and his joints swelled. But they were relentless as they continued to beat him.

However, in the next moment something changed.

A shimmering portal materialized in the corridor, startling David and the others.A strange pull began to tug at the air, as objects near the portal started to be sucked toward it.

The sudden change startled David and his companions, forcing them to retreat several steps back, their eyes wide with confusion.

However Azhrael couldn't. In a swift motion he started drifting towards the portal.

In the next moment, Elaric and Elizabeth appeared as if teleporting.

Elaric's eyes narrowed seeing the portal before widening as he recognised the mana signature of Cassandra in it. He stopped Elizabeth who was moving towards Azhrael.

"But Grandpa Azh.." she said her eyes wide with worry.

"Don't, let him go." He said firmly, leaving no room for arguments.

With that Azhrael drifted into the portal.