Chapter 1: The Boy Without Mana
In the world where Noah Blyze was born, magic wasn't just power, it was life itself. It pulsed through the air like a heartbeat, vibrant and constant.
From the moment children could speak, they were taught to sense it to listen for the subtle hum of their own unique element.
Magic was said to live in their blood, not just a gift, but a birthright.
A destiny.
And on his Awakening Day, when he was supposed to feel magic within him, Noah felt nothing at all.
The Awakening Hall was grand and echoing, with high ceilings and polished marble floors that reflected every step. It was a sacred place, filled with quiet anticipation as a new generation stood on the edge of their future.
One by one, the twelve-year-olds from Noah's village stepped forward.
Liana his childhood friend, whose laugh always reminded him of wind chimes placed her hand on the ancient Awakening Stone.
A brilliant amber light burst from it, washing over her in waves. The air around her shimmered with heat clear and undeniable. She had a strong fire affinity.
Then came Mark, a boy who had never missed a chance to look down on Noah.
When he touched the stone, he was bathed in a soft, pearlescent glow. It was the mark of Light, noble, rare, and impossible to ignore.
When it was Noah's turn, his heart pounded like a frantic drum in his chest. He took a deep, unsteady breath, trying to picture the cool, steady blue of water… or the quick, sharp green of wind.
As he stepped forward, he pressed his hand to the smooth, cold surface of the Awakening Stone, holding his breath his lips forming a silent, desperate prayer.
But..
There was only silence.
The polished stone remained still beneath his hand cold and lifeless. There was no pulse of mana, no flicker of light.
The magic that had surged so easily for the others was simply... absent.
He waited hoping he will feel the magic..
But nothing came.
The glow he had imagined wasn't there. Everyone else had felt it—but not him. It was something he wanted more than anything, but it never came.
The mood in the hall changed. What had once been full of excitement now felt heavy and slow.
It settled over him like a thick fog not anger, not judgment, but something worse: pity, it pressed down on him in a way that felt harder to bear than anything else.
"There's no affinity," the priest said quietly, his voice almost gentle, like he was delivering bad news. "No mana pool."
People started whispering behind his back. "He failed." "No magic." The words didn't just pass by, they hurt him like sharp pieces in his chest.
His face felt hot with shame, hotter than any fire. At that moment, he wished he could disappear.
Suddenly, a sharp, burning heat flared up in his palm. It wasn't the soft warmth of magic, it was a raw, stabbing pain, like fire tracing into his skin.
He gasped and pulled his hand back, pressing it to his chest. The pain was so strong his vision blurred, and the faces of his family and friends faded.
He could feel his skin blistering, as a new mark was being carved, an ugly brand of failure, one he would carry forever.
The priest's face tightened with worry as he saw Noah clutch his hand in pain. "Child, are you alright?" he asked gently, his voice carrying an edge of concern he hadn't shown before.
Reluctant but desperate, Noah slowly opened his hand, revealing a deep red mark burned into his skin.
The priest's eyes, once full of pity, widened in shock. He took a small step back, unable to look away from the symbol.
His lips pressed into a tight line, and he shook his head slowly not with pity this time, but with a mix of awe and fear.
"This mark…" he whispered, barely audible, not to Noah but to himself. "It's the sign of a Magicless." He looked up at Noah, his eyes heavy with dread and a strange, cold certainty. "A soul that refuses the common elements. Someone with no mana pool."
The silence that followed felt even heavier this time. It wasn't pity anymore, it was fear.
The villagers, who had just been celebrating their children's magic, now stared at Noah like he was a ghost, something that shouldn't be there.
He looked down at his hand, at the mark that once felt like a sign of failure, and now saw it as something worse, a mystery he didn't want to face.
The way home felt cold and blurry.
The word Magicless followed him everywhere like a shadow. It reminded him that he was alone now.
He wasn't just Noah anymore, he was "the Magicless boy," a problem no one wanted to figure out.
His future had been taken away and replaced by a dark, uncertain path. As he walked alone, the happy voices from the hall faded away, leaving only the cold feeling of his new reality.