Chapter 1 – Saren POV: Unranked But Better Than You
What does it feel like to be born illegal?
To be unwanted before you even open your eyes?
To be the forbidden fruit nobody wants to pick?
Yeah. That's me.
My mother was a Witch — you know, white magic, royal scrolls, pure bloodlines and whatever. And my dad? Black mage. The bad kind. Illegal. Unknown. Vanished.
Thanks to them, I was born with all the signs of a cursed union:
Clap, clap. Parents of the year.
Black hair? Fine.
White streak? Freak.
(Honestly, I think they're just jealous. I am handsome.)
Anyway, picture this: I was barely a few hours old and already sentenced to death by the good people of Whiteland — one of the ten kingdoms in the magic country of Kowaland.
Nice start, huh?
But they didn't kill me. The king wasn't that heartless — and mostly, it was thanks to Grandma Iriana.
Is she my real grandma?
Nope.
Did she raise me like I was her own?
Absolutely.
She'd lost both her son and grandson two years before I showed up. When she saw what they wanted to do to me, she got on her knees in front of the king and begged. She promised I'd be harmless. That I'd live quietly. That I'd be a good boy.
So here I am now. Alive. Unranked. Technically illegal… but also, definitely not welcome.
Tonight I'm lying on the roof of Grandma's tiny stone house, staring at the stars like I belong among them.
Bom ! what the ?
My head ! What kind of ninja attack was that ?!
Wait... what's that—?
A bottle? I turn my head dramatically. Very slowly. Like I'm in a tragic stage play.
It's Grandma.
"SAREN!" she yells, hands on hips. "How many times have I told you the roof is dangerous? And where were you today, huh? Why didn't you come help me at the market?!"
I jump up like I was caught stealing magic scrolls.
"Sorry, Grandma! I'm coming!"
I race down the stairs, and the second I reach her—
She grabs my ear.
"Ow-ow-ow, sorry!" I cry.
She stares at me. "Tell me why."
I look down at my feet. "No one wants to see me there… You barely have any clients when I'm around."
Her expression softens. She lets go of my ear and cups my cheek.
"I don't care about money or clients, Saren. I care about you. I just want you to live, to be loved, to be respected."
I laugh bitterly and take her hand. "No one's ever going to love or respect me, Grandma. Except you."
She snatches her hand back and points her cane at my chest like it's a sword.
"Don't say that again. One day, you'll enter the Annual Mage Competition… and you'll win."
I blink. "Me? Grandma, I don't even have a last name. I'm so unranked I don't even exist on scrolls."
She smacks me (lightly) with her cane. "Shut up. You'll be better than all of them. Just wait."
Then she yawns like she just ended a prophecy.
"I'm going to bed. I made dinner. Tomorrow, you're coming with me to the market. No excuses."
I smile, just a little.
"Okay, Grandma. I'll come."