The classroom was silent. Every student was prepared for the next lesson, eyes locked on the board.
The teacher stepped forward, standing firmly in the center of the room. He didn't waste time. His voice was steady and resolute:
"Today, I will teach you the foundations of magic. Because magic is not just a talent—it is a genetic destiny."
No one in the class moved. The teacher raised four fingers.
"All magical systems in this world are built upon four fundamental elements: Fire, Water, Air, and Earth."
As he lowered his fingers, he continued:
"Every magic user is born with a connection to one element. And that connection… comes from their bloodline. Because magic is passed on only by inheritance."
He turned to the board and wrote in large capital letters with white chalk:
🔥 FIRE – Power and destruction.
💧 WATER – Adaptation and healing.
🌬️ AIR – Speed and control.
🪨 EARTH – Defense and resilience.
Then he gently set the chalk down.
"But this power... cannot be gained by reading books. It can't be learned through effort. It can't be taken from others."
He faced the class again. His eyes moved slowly across the students.
"Magic is gained… only by being born with it. If it's in your bloodline, you have it. If not... you never will."
A long pause followed. Even in his silence, his words lingered like a heavy fog. Then he deepened the weight of his voice:
"Now, do you know where this system began?"
Not a sound came from the students.
"Centuries and centuries ago… the gods granted this power to only one person. That man's name was... Ragnar Valtorion."
Whispers rose in the classroom. Ragnar... the legendary first bearer of magic. The ancestor of the royal bloodline that rules the throne today.
"Ragnar received the essence of the four elements from the gods. His power flowed through his blood and into his children. Each descendant of his line became the bearer of an element."
"But only them. No others have ever used magic in this world. They cannot. They never will."
"And so… magic is the destiny of the chosen bloodlines."
The room fell silent again.
Then one voice cut through the air like ice:
"Then, Professor..."
"Why is there someone in our class who shows no signs of magic?"
All heads turned at once. Devin had stood up. His smile was sly. He spoke without even raising a finger:
"For example... Lunin Valenhardt. Everyone saw him during the magic assessment. Not even a flicker of light. No energy. Nothing. So... what's your explanation for that?"
Lunin didn't move. His eyes stayed on his desk. But inside... he burned. He spoke to himself silently:
"Shut your mouth. Silence yourself. If I'm keeping quiet, you should too."
The atmosphere in the room had changed. Everyone looked either at Devin or at Lunin. The teacher remained in place, his voice low and calm:
"Such cases... are rare. Not every individual in a noble bloodline is born with power. Sometimes magic lies dormant. Sometimes it never awakens. And sometimes… it reveals itself in a different form."
The bell rang. The sound shattered the tension in the classroom. The students slowly began to gather their things.
---
👑 [ROYAL CAFETERIA]
The cafeteria buzzed with the crowd of midday lunch. The clinking of trays, murmuring students, and the warm scent of food filled the air as Lunin quietly joined the line. His steps were heavy, his thoughts still consumed by the harsh words from the earlier lesson.
When his turn came, a pair of eyes behind the counter caught his attention. For a moment, time froze. His heart raced.
It was... Elva.
The kind-hearted woman who had once worked the fields back in his village. She had always treated him with care—almost like a mother. Memories surged through Lunin's mind. Elva, working in the fields at dawn, gently warning him, sharing little secrets with a soft smile.
But now, she was here. Serving food in the royal cafeteria. The sight was both shocking and unsettling.
She didn't even recognize him. She simply offered a polite smile and said briskly:
"Young man, could you please move a bit quicker? There's a long line behind you."
Lunin quietly took his tray. When their eyes met, a faint glimmer of recognition sparkled in hers—but she didn't acknowledge it. She chose not to.
He thought to himself:
"What is she doing here? What could a peasant woman possibly be doing in the royal palace? How could someone like her end up in a place like this?"
He found an empty table and sat down. He picked up his spoon, but the food had no taste. His throat felt tight. His stomach knotted like his thoughts.
Just then, someone sat beside him.
A boy with grey hair parted down the middle. His eyes sparkled with curiosity, and his warm smile radiated friendliness.
"Hey there! I'm Donald. Mind if I sit with you?"
Lunin didn't even look up.
"You already did."
Donald wasn't offended—he laughed cheerfully and went on:
"Yeah, I know. That was a bit rude of me. But I had to start somehow. You're too quiet. I thought maybe we could talk a bit?"
Lunin furrowed his brow slightly but said nothing.
Donald glanced around, still speaking casually:
"I get it. Everyone in this school is cold and distant. But you... you're different. It's like you're carrying a secret. Maybe I'm the kind of person you could tell it to."
Lunin gave a slight nod:
"Heh heh..."
The bell rang.
Lunin finally turned to Donald and asked—truly curious this time:
"What's our next class?"
Donald's eyes lit up. He grinned from ear to ear:
"Oh, I was hoping you'd ask that! Our next class is... physical test!"
---