The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the dilapidated buildings as Raden stepped out of the old shoe factory, his feet dragging on the cracked cobblestones. His mind was still reeling from the test, from the hollow emptiness that echoed in his veins.
Magicless. That was the word they'd stamped him with. No trace of the power that ran through the blood of every other child in that room.
As he made his way through the grimy streets, Raden felt the weight of the city closing in on him, like the air itself was pressing him down. It felt suffocating, like there was no room to breathe, no way to escape the expectations, the judgment.
He had failed. And now, his future was as black as the smoke that choked the sky.
Then, as he passed an alleyway, a voice called out to him—low, rough, but somehow familiar.
"Raden Sora," it rasped, like a blade against stone.
Raden froze. His heart skipped a beat.
Out of the shadows stepped Jimmy, the Butcher. The enforcer of the Red Rabbits.
Jimmy was dressed as always—dirty brown dress clothes, the black top hat perched awkwardly on his head. His stubby fingers tapped the hilt of a knife sheathed at his side, a reminder of the power he held over every kid in the ghetto.
"Thought you might be interested in a little chat," Jimmy said, his grin stretching across his face like a predator sizing up its prey. "You've got a real problem, boy. No magic. No future. You'll end up in the factories, or worse."
Raden didn't respond. His throat felt dry, tight. He could feel the pressure building around him, the dangerous pull of the Red Rabbits' offer.
"Or," Jimmy continued, stepping closer, his breath heavy with the stench of alcohol and smoke, "you could join the Red Rabbits. No more workin' the factories. No more beggin' for scraps. We could use someone like you."
Raden's chest tightened. He knew the cost of that offer. He'd seen what happened to kids who took Jimmy's path—the ones who ended up in the river.
"No," Raden said, his voice barely a whisper, but firm. "I'm not one of you."
Jimmy's grin faltered, but only for a moment. Then, he shrugged. "Suit yourself. But remember, kid, the world doesn't give a damn about you. You take the deals that come your way, or you get eaten alive."
With that, Jimmy turned and disappeared back into the shadows, leaving Raden standing in the fading light, his stomach knotting with fear and confusion.
As Raden walked away from the alley, his mind still reeling from the encounter, he heard the sharp clop of boots on the cobblestones behind him.
He turned, startled, to see a tall man approaching.
The man was handsome, his dark hair combed neatly, his piercing green eyes scanning him with an intensity that made Raden feel like a bug under a magnifying glass. He was dressed in a fine, dark coat, trimmed with silver threads, and there was something about him—something unyielding, like a storm ready to break.
"Raden Sora, I presume?" The man's voice was deep, smooth, and carried the weight of authority.
Raden's heart skipped a beat. There was something wrong about this man. He didn't know why, but instinctively, he knew he was dangerous.
"I'm Master Carthridge Kamebrow," the man continued, his eyes never leaving Raden's. "I am a Mage Breaker. You've been flagged for assessment."
Raden's blood turned to ice. A Mage Breaker. The elite hunters of rogue mages, the ones who stripped power from those who dared to defy the empire. His eyes darted around, searching for an escape, but the alley was narrow, and there was nowhere to run.
"You failed your magic test, didn't you?" Master Kacmebrow's voice was calm, but it carried a weight of finality. "No magic. It's… unfortunate."
Raden swallowed hard, his throat dry. "I—I don't have magic."
Kacmebrow's green eyes glimmered with interest. "Perhaps. But I've heard rumors, Raden. Rumors that there's something else inside you. Something different."
Raden's heart thudded against his ribs. He wanted to back away, but his legs wouldn't move.
The Mage Breaker stepped closer, his gaze never leaving Raden. "There's an ancient form of resistance to magic—a rare condition, one that affects a select few. Anti-magic. It's a curse, and a power all its own."
Raden's mind spun. He had never heard of such a thing. But the look in Kacmebrow's eyes told him this man knew far more than he did.
"Do you want to know if you have it?" Kacmebrow's voice was softer now, coaxing. "A simple test. Just a touch of magic. It will show us what's inside you."
Raden hesitated, his mind a whirl of confusion and fear. Was this some kind of trap? Would the Mage Breaker kill him on the spot if he had no magic? Or would he be dragged into some deeper hell where he became another pawn in the empire's games?
Kamebrow raised his hand, his fingers just inches from Raden's chest. The air around them seemed to shimmer, crackling with an unseen energy.
"Trust me, Raden. You'll want to know the truth."
Raden nodded, his breath catching in his throat. He wasn't sure if he had a choice anymore.
Meanwhile, across the city, Jay was being escorted from the school to the castle. He walked with his head high, his steps sure, his chest puffed out like he already owned the world. The door to the school had barely closed behind him before he was whisked away by a pair of stern-faced guards, their armor gleaming in the late afternoon light.
"Where am I going?" Jay asked, his voice full of excitement. "What's going to happen to me?"
"Your future is already decided," one of the guards replied in a low, gravelly voice. "The castle is where you'll begin your training."
Jay couldn't help but smile at the thought of being inside the castle walls, of training with the best mages in the empire. This was it. This was his chance to rise above the gutter.
They reached the gates of the castle, towering high with ornate ironwork. Jay stepped through them, a feeling of awe settling in his chest. He couldn't believe it. He was inside.
As they passed through the halls, Jay's eyes darted from one marble pillar to another, taking in the grandeur. It was so different from the streets he knew—so clean, so… perfect.
At the end of a grand hallway, a woman appeared—blonde-haired, green-eyed, and dressed in fine robes of the highest quality. Her smile was warm, yet somehow distant.
"Jay Racker, I presume?" she said, her voice melodic but carrying a subtle authority. "I'm Sarah. I'll be your guide while you settle in."
Jay's grin widened. "Nice to meet you, Sarah. I've heard all about this place. I'm ready."
Shara nodded, her eyes appraising him as she led him deeper into the castle. "Let's make sure you're ready."