Among the students of academy is I, Regal, my magic power is almost zero but my academy is excellent. I topped every exam.
Professor Halric's voice boomed as he returned our tests. "Regal—98%. Highest marks again." The class groaned.
But knowledge couldn't stop the bullies.
The Academy's marble halls echoed with whispers as I walked past. "There goes Regal—the Empty Vessel."
As a student named Regal attending the prestigious Academy of Magic, I find myself in a unique and challenging position. While the academy is renowned for its excellence in teaching and nurturing magical abilities, I must face the fact that my own magical power is almost non-existent. Unlike my fellow students who possess remarkable abilities, I feel like I pale in comparison.
Despite my limited magical aptitude, I am determined to make the most of my time at the academy. I have come here with the sole purpose of learning more about magic, even if it means grappling with my own deficiencies in this area. My lack of magical strength is evident, and I am fully aware that I may face difficulties and limitations that others might not experience.
Nonetheless, my journey at the academy is driven by an unyielding desire to understand magic, even in the smallest measure. I yearn to uncover the secrets of this mystical force that resides within all living beings, including myself. Perhaps, with perseverance and guidance, I can find a way to harness whatever magical potential lies dormant within me.
My experience at the academy is likely filled with ups and downs as I navigate the challenges of learning magic with my limited abilities. There might be moments of frustration and self-doubt, but I am determined not to give up. I seek guidance from the academy's skilled teachers and hope to find alternative paths and techniques that align with my unique magical nature.
I come from a farmer family, and as a result, our financial situation isn't great. This has made me an easy target for bullies at school, and I find myself unable to fight back against their taunts and jeers.
"Farm boy's back to muck the stables!" Jace, a noble's son, slammed me into the lockers. His fire-magic singed my tunic. I didn't flinch.
My parents, my father and mother work tirelessly to provide food and necessities for our family. While we aren't starving, things are far from comfortable. Despite their hard work, I can't help but feel the weight of our financial struggles on my young shoulders.
Every night, I kneel in prayer, hoping and wishing for my parents to be happy and healthy. But it seems like my prayers go unanswered, and the challenges persist.
That's why I have a burning desire to learn how to use magic. I believe that if I could harness this mystical power, I could protect myself and my parents from the hardships that life throws our way. I dream of using magic to make their lives easier, to lift the burden that they bear for our family.
However, my attempts to learn magic have been in vain so far.
As the day draws to a close, I can't help but feel disheartened. Time seems to slip away so quickly and I worry about the future, about my family's well-being, and about my own ability to make a difference.
But even in the midst of these struggles, I hold onto hope. I know that I won't give up on my dreams of learning magic and changing my circumstances. Tomorrow is a new day, and perhaps it will bring an opportunity for me to take a step closer to realizing my aspirations. Until then, I'll keep praying, working hard, and holding onto the belief that things can get better.
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Next day,
Today is a momentous day for me—it's not just the final exam for this term at the academy, but it's also my eighteenth birthday.
I've dedicated countless hours to studying and honing my magical skills, hoping to prove myself despite my initial struggles. It's a chance to show how much I've grown and learned during my time at the academy.
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In the morning,
As today is my eighteenth birthday, the excitement of the day is tinged with a sense of loneliness. Besides my parents, there is no one else to share this special moment with. However, my parents assured me that they had a surprise in store, and I looked forward to whatever they had planned.
Eventually, my parents entered the room with a wrapped box in their hands.
"Regal," Mother whispered, shaking my shoulder. "We have something for you."
Father stood behind her, holding a wooden box so old the carvings had worn smooth. My chest tightened. We didn't have money for gifts.
"Open it," Father said.
Inside lay two pendants. A pendant was split into two halves, each shaped like a semicircle with intricate wings carved into their surfaces—one white as pure light, the other black as endless night. Though separated, their edges were designed to fit together perfectly, as if they were once a single, unbroken circle. The white half gleamed with an unnatural radiance, as though holding a fragment of the sun itself, while the black half seemed to swallow the light around it, dark and fathomless. The cords they hung from were impossibly strong—unyielding no matter how hard they were pulled, as if woven from something beyond mortal understanding. Regal's parents told him they had tried, many times, to press the two halves together, but each time they did, their hands trembled violently, their instincts screaming that they would disappear if they ever forced the pieces to unite. The pendants seemed to resist any attempt to join them, as though waiting for the right moment—or the right person—to become whole again.
I asked my parents "what is this?"
They had a tensed expression and said "It's time we told you the truth, you are not our real child."
Mother's breath hitched. "We found you with these," she said. "Wrapped in a blankets on our doorstep eighteen years ago tonight."
"You were at our doorstep clutching the two pendants in your hands on one night. We waited for days but no one came to find you."
"We couldn't have a child, so we took care of you as our real son. So please forgive us, we couldn't tell you about this earlier. We love you so much"
My parents were crying as they spoke. I was in complete daze as my life turned upside down.
Emotions swirled within me—confusion, disbelief, and a strange mix of gratitude and sadness.
I was confused; my mind turned blank. "Then who am I? What's my real origin? Where am I from? Many questions were arising in mind"
I asked "Do you really not know who I am?"
"We don't know," they replied. "But we promise that you were and will be loved like our own son."
In the midst of the whirlwind of emotions, I looked at my parents, who were still tearful but filled with genuine love and sincerity. Despite the revelation, I realized that their love for me was not diminished by the fact that we were not biologically related. They had chosen to be my parents, and that bond was deeper than any blood connection.
As the truth settled in, I felt a mix of emotions—gratitude for the life they had given me, sadness for the unknown past I was now discovering, and a newfound appreciation for the love and sacrifices my parents had made for me.
After some time, I stabilized my mind.
In that moment, I understood that family is not solely defined by blood ties but by the bonds forged through love, care, and shared experiences. I embraced my parents, holding them close, knowing that they were my true family, regardless of the circumstances of my arrival in their lives.
"Thank you two for raising me. I am grateful for you. If you had not raised me, I might have already died."
"Thank you for saving me," I whispered, hugging them tightly.