A pale ray of morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a delicate glow on the teenager's face, highlighting the gentle tousle of his dark hair and the serene expression of deep slumber that graced his features. The room, modest and unassuming, was already bursting with the nuances of an ordinary young man's life: well-loved books and sheets of notes lay strewn haphazardly across a cluttered oak desk, the edges curling as if they were reluctant to be left untouched. A well-worn navy hoodie languidly draped over the back of a chair, the fabric soft from years of wear, and on a high shelf, a few dusty figurinesremnants of childhood games, stood sentinel, silent witnesses to a time long past.
The familiar, jarring trill of the alarm clock sliced through the morning stillness, echoing off the walls.
"— Five more minutes, Mom…" Ajin murmured, his voice muffled as he burrowed deeper beneath the warmth of his thick blanket, reluctant to relinquish the comforting embrace of sleep and dreams.
His mother's warm, melodic voice flowed into the room, tinged with a playful affection.
"— Ajin, get up, my little one! I don't think you want to miss the first day at the Academy. You have five minutes to get downstairs!"
The door clicked gently closed behind her, leaving Ajin to exhale a deep sigh, the weight of anticipation mingling with the heaviness of sleep. Rubbing a hand through his tousled hair, he indulged in a fleeting moment of quiet before reluctantly rolling out of bed. The bracing splash of cold water on his face invigorated his senses as if igniting a spark within him, yet beneath the surface, a storm of uncertainty brewed. The Academy... the illustrious institution he had dreamed of attending since childhood. A tightening knot in his stomach painted his excitement with shades of anxiety.
Dressed in a loose white t-shirt that hung comfortably over his lanky frame and worn cargo pants that had seen better days, Ajin layered his attire with the familiar black hoodie that provided a semblance of security. He descended the stairs, still caught in the hazy fog of slumber, the wooden steps creaking softly underfoot.
"— Oh, what an honor I have!" his mother teased, her playful exuberance filling the air. "The sleeping prince has finally awoken!"
Gently, she pinched his cheek, her touch warm and affectionate, as a mother's should be.
"— Mom…" Ajin murmured, a sheepish smile breaking through his facade of indifference, his cheeks flushing slightly.
"— What do you want for breakfast, sweetie?" she inquired, her hands bustling with energy in the kitchen.
"— Just some tea and a few slices of bread will do," he replied, his voice still thick with sleep, barely masking the apprehension brewing beneath his calm exterior.
"— Fine, fine, my little picky one!" she chuckled, already moving around the kitchen like a whirlwind, filling the air with the comforting scent of brewing tea.
Ajin settled at the breakfast table, watching his mother work, the rhythmic clinking of dishes creating a backdrop to his own restless thoughts. Yet, an unfamiliar weight pressed against his chest, an uneasy feeling creeping in, tinged with concern.
"— Mom… where's Dad?" he asked suddenly, his voice cutting through the delicate silence like a knife.
The air in the kitchen shifted; the warm ambiance grew heavy and charged with unspoken tension.
"— I told you, he's away in Vulcania on a mission," she responded, her voice carrying a sharpness that cut through the warm familiarity of the morning.
"— But where exactly is he?" Ajin pressed, a frown creasing his brow in confusion and doubt.
His mother paused, her hands halting mid-motion as she deliberately avoided his gaze. When she finally spoke, her tone bore an edge of frustration that she hadn't intended to unveil.
"— Ajin! I've told you not to bring this up again!"
With a gentle but firm impulsiveness, she gave his cheek a light slap, a signal enough for him to bow his head in silence, surrendering to the weight of unspoken words that loomed between them.
The moment hung heavy until he broke the silence once more, his voice barely above a whisper.
"— Will you be with me at the Academy?"
Her demeanor softened instantly, warmth radiating anew as she met his gaze, the edge of worry dissipating like morning mist.
"— Of course, my little one. Future wizard!"
She tousled his hair affectionately, a bright smile lighting up her face like the sun rising over the horizon.
"— You should really consider getting a haircut," she added, the teasing lilt returning to her voice.
Ajin rolled his eyes but struggled to suppress a grin, the semblance of levity easing the tension lingering in the air.
After a brief breakfast filled with nervous chatter and laughter that felt both comforting and surreal, the two of them stepped out into the bustling world beyond their home. The streets were already alive with the rhythm of morning, people rushing about their business, the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked bread wafting from the nearby bakery mingling with the scent of blooming flowers in the air. Ajin tightened his hoodie around himself, an instinctive gesture to ward off the gnawing anxiety festering in his chest.
The Academy loomed ahead, an awe-inspiring edifice of weathered stone, ancient and dignified, its walls aged with the stories of millennia past. Some of its students had themselves become legends, living embodiments of myth, while esteemed teachers had once walked its hallowed halls, leaving behind an indelible legacy. Three grand towers, each soaring against the sky, stood guard at the main entrance, each emblazoned with a distinctive symbol: one of radiant light, signifying hope and truth; one of ominous darkness, representing mystery and power; and one of elusive shadow, embodying secrets yet to be unveiled. The Academy was not just an institution; it was a beacon of peace and prosperity, a coveted dream for countless souls across the continent. Every person longed to study within its walls, to catch a glimpse of the legends that roamed its grounds, yearning for the knowledge that resonated within its storied confines.