Chapter 1: The Bottom-Ranked Shadow
The sun rose early above the turrets of the Grand Aether Academy. Its golden rays hit the steep towers of the magic school. Shadows fell long across the courtyard. Everyone could see that magic swirls in the atmosphere. Glowing signs hovered above the paths. They hummed. Some were blazing fires of red. Others shone like icy blue. Sparks of electricity flashed between the hands of laughing students.
In the midst of all the light and color appeared one figure that hardly belonged.
Ξchø – or as most students knew him, Echo, the "bottom-ranked shadow".
His brown robes were plain and worn from many training days. His robes held no light. His fingers held no glowing aura. In a world driven by magic, his lack of magic made him one of a select few.
However, there was something unusual about this person that differed from the others. This man had a subtle yet acute intensity about him. His dark eyes observed everything: the way people moved, how their magic surrounded them, the beat of their footsteps. All the tiny details were important to him. After all, when one has no magic in their blood, awareness has got to sustain them.
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In the distance, a crowd had formed around the largest training area. The ringing of steel could be heard in the courtyard. In the middle of everything was a girl whose eyes were the focal point of everyone's attention – Soso.
Her long, silver-white hair shone like liquid light. The robes she wore were embroidered in golden phoenix designs. They seemed to shimmer as she moved. Her steps were fluid as she moved her sword. She wasn't merely a fighter; she danced as she fought.
Each strike, each twist of her wrist, demonstrated proficiency and poise. This girl was strong, yes—but she was also smart and kind. Her eyes held the sparkle of curiosity that made her seem unreachable, as if she were destined for greatness.
Echo stood under the shadow of the wall and observed her silently.
He noticed everything: the slant of her shoulders before she struck, the way her breathing calmed between strikes, the minute movement of her foot as she anticipated her opponent's blow. All of it: stored away and remembered.
A laugh interrupted his concentration.
"Waving to the crowd again as if you belong here, shadow-boy?" a guy shouted nastily. A tiny tongue of flame lanced from his fingers and shot towards Echo.
Echo moved out of the way. The fireball impacted the cobblestone pavement and dissipated.
The students laughed and went away, leaving the lingering odor of smoke.
"Weakling," muttered one of them.
The word stung—not because it was new, but because it was true in their eyes. Echo had no magic. But he had something else: control, precision, and patience.
The duel came to a swift end. Soso's final blow hit true, knocking the other man's sword from his hand. Soso curtsied graciously as the crowd applauded.
Echo's chest constricted as he observed her.
Between them lay a divide as vast as the world — magic, status, and destiny. Soso came from the nobility.
And Echo was nothing more than a shadow.
Even recognizing this, he couldn't deny the realization that built in his chest: calm, steadily growing, imovable.
He cared for her.
The bell rang, signaling the students to begin going to their classes and study halls.
Soso headed towards the library courtyard. As she moved, the light reflected from the silver robes she wore. Echo trailed behind her, merging himself with the surroundings.
He observed her sitting beside the antique marble fountain, poring over scrolls containing magical symbols. Her fingers moved to trace the runes etched on the scrolls as her eyebrows furrowed when she focused. Even among the complexities of magic spells surrounding her, she appeared calm and at peace.
Echo's eyes were following each turn of the page, each slight frown, each notation she made in the margin. He wasn't merely observing—he was learning.
If he couldn't rely on magic himself, then he'd understand magic. If he couldn't equal their strength, then he'd outsmart them.
Later that afternoon, when the courtyards were empty, Echo went to his secret training spot – a secluded area somewhere hidden behind the walls of the old academy. The ground in this area was irregular, the atmosphere thick with the remaining energy of many training battles.
Rolled up his sleeves. His arms were lean but strong. This came from the endless repetition. In his hand was the dagger that glinted ever so slightly under the sun.
"Then he began."
Punches and jabs: quick and accurate.
Spinning kicks – fluid motion, strong strikes, finishing in perfect balance.
Roll, dodge, counter strike: each action linked somehow like steps in a ballroom dance.
When he paused, his breathing was smooth and even, not labored. His mind relived each movement, thinking about what could be faster, cleaner, better. His body functioned like a well-oiled machine honed from pain and patience.
Next began the dagger movements.
Flipping it once, catching it solidly, he began to flow: dodging between the stone columns, hacking at imaginary foes, leaping over obstructions. Every toss and catch had been precise. The world about him dissolved until only movement existed.
This strange pulse washed through his body—he felt a warmth, a deep unfamiliar sensation. This wasn't magic.yet. This wasn't magic at all. Yet.
He stopped, puffing only slightly, and whispered,
"One day. that will be enough."
In the evening, the atmosphere at the academy calmed down. Students returned to their residences as the hum of the wards drifted softly as they settled in for the night.
Echo crouched behind a wall that led towards the library. Soso was leaving, her sword glowing softly at her side. Her smile under the moonlight made him freeze for a moment because she looked as if she wasn't really human.
Next, the sound of rustling bushes nearby.
Three students leapt out laughing as they flung glowing orbs back and forth at each other. Thoughtless behavior and perilous at the same time. Before one of the orbs could detonate too close to Soso's position, Echo had already sprung into action. Roll, grab, twist. The glowing ball impacted the ground safely in her hand
Nobody noticed. Nobody ever noticed this man.
His face remained hidden in the darkness, calm and silent.
Later that evening, Echo sat atop the roof of the old tower as the stars stretched out wide before him. Nighttime had cooled the atmosphere as the land below shimmered softly from magical light.
He gazed at the courtyard where Soso had stood earlier that morning, his hand clenching into a fist.
"She's brilliant… kind… and far beyond my reach,'" he whispered to himself. "'But I'll protect her. I'll rise above every mage, every scholar, every rule this academy has."
He closed his eyes. "No magic. No name. No limits. I'll become unstoppable."
The moonlight poured over him, silver against his brown robe. Somewhere deep within himself, the same echoes began again.
But under the expansive sky filled with stars, the lowest-ranked shadow took his first silent step towards becoming the Mighty Echo.