The Pain Beneath the Sky

The moonlight washed over the roofs of Ryuki City as silver fire. Neon lights glowed in the distance, and the soft hum of magic trains rumbled beneath the stars.

Auren sat silently on the roof of his house, folded legs, arms clasped around his knees, staring at the radiance of the sky.

I hope I will be a mage someday,'' he thought. "No. No, not just a mage. I want to be greater than Veon and Kaen. So father pays attention to me.

So the people of this town regard me as someone important."

The deep thought was crushing him. Auren's voice shook.

"Why, why don't they care about me?" His breath caught.

"Why do my brothers and my dad treat me as though I'm not here? Like whether I'm alive or dead, it doesn't make any difference?"

He stared at his hands, roughened from kitchen labor, wiping guns, repairing clothes, and lugging groceries. "Even if I'm not a mage.

Haven't I done everything I could for this family?" Didn't I contribute in ways that counted? Why do they treat me like nothing?"

His eyes grew narrow, lips trembling as a single tear struggled to slide. "I feel like a shadow in my own home. Even the children younger than me can use magic easily.

I just turned fifteen. Veon is hardly a year and a half older than me, and already he's being hailed as a top mage." 

His heart twisted with unspoken desperation. "I just. I just wish to be something great too."

Morning arises, skies of the city are covered with clouds, and the failure of Ryuki. Auren woke up quietly, washed himself, wrapped his scarf around his head, and set out to the market as he did each morning. Again, an unwanted day..

The city was already active—hovercarts floated low with shopkeepers holding up enchanted fruits, potion scrolls, and stuff from mages.

Auren had his head down, clutching a small note his mother had prepared. Tomatoes, rice, carrots, and some sea herb.

As he approached the central square, a cluster of kids played in front of a floating market stall. One of them noticed Auren and cracked a fake evil smile.

"Hey! Look, the magicless Ryuki!" one of them shouted.

Another boy, his eyes glinting with a wicked grin, quickly chanted a spell and summoned a little magical creature—an orange monkey fighter with blazing fists.

"Go! Show him your moves!" the boy cackled.

The monkey charged at Auren and punched him a gentle but mortifying blow to the chest. He stumbled back, losing the carrots he had recently purchased.

The boys erupted into laughter. "What a Ryuki can't even protect himself? Perhaps his dad didn't give him powers!"

Passing shoppers giggled softly. Nobody stopped it.

Auren was immobile, shame searing him. Then, out of the fog of laughter, he saw his father.

Ryden Ryuki.

He was passing by, tall and geared up, with a detail of patrol magistrates behind him. Auren's eyes flashed—perhaps he'd intervene. Perhaps he'd tell them to leave her alone.

Ryden caught a glimpse of the scene.

Then turned away.

And kept going.

Something cracked within Auren.

He was cold and frozen as his father's form disappeared into the crowd. His heart was shrieking. He couldn't even move.

A sudden voice boomed through the square.

"HEY! That's enough!" The monkey disappeared in a spell.

The shopkeeper approached Auren and assisted him in getting up. "Don't let punks like them get to you, kid."

Auren nodded and whispered, "Thank you," and left the place. 

Shopkeeper- I hope this boy gets peace.

Here, only a person like him gets hurt. Only poor, weak, orphan ones, alone ones, get bullied and get "tortured". And people don't even care unless it's their own family member.

The shopkeeper from the carrot stall.

He raised his finger at the boys. "Go pick on someone your own size!"

The children scattered, laughing, but they had fun". AND people do not really care.

Holding the bruised carrots, he walked further down the street. As he fought his way through the throng, something—or better, someone—arrested his attention.

That old man again.

The one from the market the day before. The one with the unusual voice and worn robes. He was walking at the periphery of the crowd.

Auren's breath caught. I have to ask him. What was he saying yesterday?

He stepped to pursue him.

Just as he stood there, a blast of wind swept by, sending a hat flying off a person's head and hitting Auren squarely in the face.

"Ah—!"

He removed the hat and examined it. Stuffed within the brim was a crumpled piece of parchment. In neat, flowing letters:

"Hollow Hill, midnight. Power awaits those who dare."

His eyes opened wide. Was this his?

Auren grasped the hat, thumping heart. The address led to a forbidden mountain range outside the city. The very realm where spirits were said to reside.

He came home late. Covered in dust. Torn clothing.

The moment he entered, his mother emerged from the kitchen.

"Auren! Oh gods,[ she speaks a little loud] what's happened? Are you injured?!"

Auren attempted to speak but was unable to. His voice cracked, and all the hurt, the humiliation, the rejection bled out.

He fell into his mother's arms.

And wept.

She hugged him close. "It's alright. Are you ok "?

Within, Auren knew a warmth he had not known in years.

How can I forget she is the only one who loves me?

''he wept''

His mother. She was the only one who ever noticed him.

The only one who remembered he was there.

And in that instant, buried against her, he made a silent vow:

I will go to Hollow Hill.

I will transcend what they told me I would ever be.

I will show all of them, who laughed at me, ignored me... 

Power awaits those'' Who Dares''