The cold rain soaked through the boy's thin, ragged clothes. He sat hunched on the wet cobblestone street, staring at the warm light coming from a wand shop. He held a soggy children's book about magic, protecting it with his own body. With a trembling finger, he turned a page to a drawing of a powerful mage.
A small, hopeful smile touched his lips. He knew he was just a poor kid from the slums and could never afford a wand. Still, he pushed himself to his feet, brushed uselessly at the mud on his pants, and started walking.
As he got closer, he could see an old man inside the shop, kindly showing a wand to a smiling couple. Mirai leaned forward until his nose touched the cold glass, his breath fogging a small circle. He gazed past the counter at the hundreds of wands, his eyes wide. He spotted a famous one on its own special display.
"Wow," he breathed, the sound swallowed by the rain. "The Borben Ultima."
The shop was full of wonders, like floating lights and tiny, busy fairies. A beautiful, happy warmth came from it, and for a moment, he felt happy too. But the feeling was quickly replaced by a familiar ache of sadness. His shoulders slumped. He lowered his head, jealous of the people inside who belonged. He wished so badly that could be him.
He sighed, the happy dream fading. A wave of meloncholy in his face. He was just about to turn and go home.
Just then, a woman inside saw him. Her eyes went wide with alarm, and she grabbed her husband's arm, pointing a shaking finger at Mirai. The shopkeeper's kind face instantly turned to an angry scowl.
The shop door burst open. A strong hand grabbed the collar of Mirai's shirt and yanked him backward.
"Hey! Get away from here!" the old man shouted. "Go back to your zone, you filthy Mezarian!"
Mirai flinched back, his heart hammering against his ribs. "I-I was only looking!" he stammered, raising his hands defensively. "I swear!"
"Looking to steal, you mean!" the man snarled. He turned to the street and yelled, "Someone call the guards! We've got a Mezarian thief here!"
The people walking by stopped and stared. A crowd began to form.
"A Mezarian? In this part of the city?" a man muttered, pulling his wife away.
"Disgusting. Go back where you belong!" a woman demanded with a shout.
Mirai's jaw clenched, and hot tears of frustration pricked at the corners of his eyes. He scanned the crowd, his gaze darting from one angry face to the next. He felt trapped. "But I didn't do anything..." he whispered to himself.
With a desperate grunt, he wrenched his collar free from the man's grip, stumbled, and then broke into a frantic run.
"And don't come back!" a voice screamed after him.
Mirai didn't stop running until he was back in Cazath, the muddy, poor zone where Mezarians were forced to live. He dragged himself into his home—a small tent made of patched-together animal skins. He collapsed face-down onto his mattress, letting out a long, shuddering sigh into the lumpy pillow. After a moment, he rolled onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the world.
He kicked his feet against the mattress in frustration. "Why was I born a Mezarian?" he groaned. "I want to learn magic, too."
Everyone hated Mezarians because, long ago, their ancestors were powerful "mage-killers" who could cancel magic and had tried to conquer the world. Now, all Mezarians were punished for it.
But still, it's unfair. I didn't even do anything.
CRASH!
A figure stumbled through the tent flap, knocking over the small wooden stand inside. "Whoa! Oops! Sorry, Mirai!" a cheerful voice said. It was his friend, Cassy. She scrambled to her feet, grinning.
"What are you doing here? you need to stay home. It's pouring pretty hard."
In her hand, she held up an old pocket watch and a single black feather between her thumb and forefinger, as if they were precious jewels. "You have to see what I found!"
Mirai sat up and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a tired sigh. "What is it, Cassy?"
"It's a mystical set!" she declared. "The old lady at the gate gave it to me for free! She said it was the real deal!"
"Cassy," he said, his voice flat. "Real magic items cost a fortune. You got tricked."
"No, I didn't! It's real!" she insisted.
"Okay, okay, I believe you," he said, just wanting her to leave. "You should get home before the storm gets worse."
Mirai stood up and cleaned his table and desk.
Cassy puffed out her cheeks and put her hands on her hips. "You're just being a grump. Fine! You'll see I was right!" She turned to go.
"Hey, don't forget your stuff!" Mirai called after her.
"You keep it!" she yelled back. "Since you think it's so fake!"
Later that night, as Mirai was trying to sleep, a soft blue light began to pulse from the table. He sat up, blinking. 'What is that?'
Suddenly, the light flared, filling the entire tent. The watch and feather floated into the air and began to spin, drawn to each other. The air crackled, and the ground hummed. They merged together with a soft pop.
The light vanished. Floating in the air was a terrifying creature. It had the body of a snake, the leathery wings of a bat, and its eyes were two glowing, ticking clocks.
Mirai scrambled backward on his mattress until his back hit the damp wall of the tent. His mouth hung open, but no sound came out. He could only point a trembling finger at the creature.
"Greetings, boy," it hissed, its voice like grinding rocks. "I am Mirchi. I am here to grant your wish."
"W-what are you?" Mirai finally managed to whisper.
"I give power to those who have none," Mirchi said. "I can make your wish come true. But every wish has a price."
Mirai swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. "A price?"
"The bigger the wish, the bigger the price," the creature stated simply.
Mirai thought about the wand shop, the angry crowd, the word 'Mezarian' being spit at him. He looked down at his own dirty hands, then clenched them into tight fists. He looked back at the creature, his fear replaced by determination.
'I still don't know much information about this snake.. or whatever it is. It's risky to trust what he's saying but, I feel like if I don't take this chance now, I'll regret it for the rest of my life.'
Mirai tightened his grip on the surface of his pants.
"If I wish to use magic," he asked, his voice shaking but firm, "what is the price?"
Mirchi seemed to smile. "An excellent wish. Your Mezarian blood destroys magic. So, the price is this: you will gain the ability to use magic, but you will only ever be able to use one single type of spell. All other forms of magic will be impossible for you."
It was a huge price, but it was his only chance.
"Alright," Mirai said, his voice clear. "I accept the contract."
"A wise choice," Mirchi hissed.
A blinding light erupted from the creature, and Mirai felt like he was falling before everything went black.
Swoop
He woke up in his tent with the morning sun shining. It felt like a dream, until he felt a strange weight on his hands. He slowly lifted them in front of his face.
He gasped.
On his right hand were five new rings made of a smoky-looking stone. He could see foggy, monstrous shapes swirling inside them.
On the pinky of his left hand was one small, black ring. A dark, shadowy demon with burning red eyes seemed to stare out from it.
His whole body started to tremble, not from cold, but from a terrifying new power.
"What..." he whispered, his voice cracking as he stared at his hands in horror. "A demon...?"