The Academy’s Rejected Mage

Kai’s POV

“Come here, you piece-of-shit killer! I’m gonna rip your soul out!” I run, covering my ears as the gardener chases me through the darkness for the third time this week.

“Get away from me!” I shout. “You’re not real!”

“Of course I’m real!” He lunges toward me, his blood-soaked face twisted with rage. “I was real before you killed me. You’re the one who’s not real. YOU’RE THE DEMOM!”

“No, I’m not.”

“Really?” He smirks. “Then what kind of child kills someone at eight years old?”

“Oh, he killed you at eight?” A different voice appears in front of me, the driver, blocking my path. Blood runs down from his eyes as he grins. “Guess what, this little prick killed me at five. Can you beat tha—.”

“I can.” Another voice cuts through the darkness. I turn and see my nanny stepping out of the shadows, her body drenched in blood. She points a trembling finger at me. “This little monster killed me at just three years old!”

Her voice deepens until it no longer sounds human.“HE IS A DEMON!” “No!” I shake my head. “I’m not!”

The three of them lunge forward. “Face it, little one. You’re the devil’s spawn. You’ll never be free. You’re a killer.”

“I’m not a killer!”

“A demon!”

“I’m not a demon!”

“A bloody, wicked demon…” Their voices blend into a wicked melody. “You are the demon. You are the demon. You are the demon.”

“Shut up!” They keep singing. “Leave me alone!” Their faces twist into grotesque smiles. “YOU ARE VAZAROTH’S SPAWN!” Hands seize my throat.

I claw at their wrists, struggling to breathe. “NO! LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“Kai! Wake up!” I jump up, gasping for air. Someone grabs my shoulder. I seize his wrist instinctively, squeezing until he barks, “Let go, you freak!” I release him.

My roommate stumbles backward, holding his wrist while the others burst into laughter. “Damn, man!” one of them says. “You’re one hell of a freak. Can’t even sleep without fighting imaginary monsters.”

“Maybe the little monsters are finally coming to collect him for being useless,” another jokes and more laughter erupts. I ignore them.

It was just a dream. Another wicked dream. I wipe the sweat from my forehead and force myself to breathe normally. I’m grateful it’s over, I’m not ready to face them.

I don’t think I’ll ever be. Not after what I did to them—killing every single one of them brutally.

At just seventeen, my body count is already higher than anyone else I know. How can I blame them for haunting me? I get out of bed before the memories can settle in. There’s no point dwelling on the dead when the living are already waiting to make my day miserable.

After dressing, I leave for class. Another day amongst people I have absolutely no interest in being around. Unfortunately, I have nowhere else to go. My parents made sure of that when they sent me here with no return policy. After years of keeping me locked away, they finally found a place willing to take me off their hands.

The academy which basically translates to my new prison.

Only little difference is, at least here, I’m not locked away in an attic. I’m allowed to move around freely.

As long as I have my necklace. I instinctively reach for the necklace around my neck, checking that it’s still there.

It is. Good. I make a turn around the corridor, only to walk straight into someone. Or rather, someone jumps into my path. “Watch where you’re going, you freak!”

I look up and of course it’s Orin. The one person that has taken it upon himself to frustrate my life here at the academy. I try to walk around him, but he quickly blocks me. His usual group of minions are behind him, grinning as if anything is funny. “Are you deaf or just stupid?” he asks.

“What do you want, Orin?”

“An apology. You bumped into me.” I stare at him. He was the one who deliberately bumped into me but arguing with Orin is like arguing with a wall. A particularly irritating wall.

“I don’t have time for this. Move,” I say. He laughs and turns to his friends. “He doesn’t have time for this!”

They laugh along with him. “Then what do you have time for?” Orin asks, turning back to me. “Letting your parents bribe the academy into accepting you?”

By now, several students have already gathered around us, watching. One of them frowns. “Wait. Is that actually true? I thought it was just a rumor.”

“Oh, best believe it’s true,” Orin sneers. “This useless piece of garbage doesn’t even deserve to be here.”

My jaw tightens. He steps closer and shoves my shoulder.

“Go on, boy. Tell everyone. Tell them how you have absolutely no magic.”

He shoves me again. “Tell them how you’re seventeen and still haven’t awakened your mana core!” A student gasps.

“Seventeen? Isn’t thirteen the latest age for awakening?”

“Exactly!” Orin throws his arms triumphantly. “But our little friend here can’t do anything right. No magic. No talent. Nothing.” Laughter scatters through the crowd.

I remain quiet, watching him intently. “What is it? Cat got your tongue?” He laughs and leans closer. “At least you’re good for something but it’s not enough. Why don’t you go take out the garbage? That'll be a more useful thing for someone like you to do.”

I tighten my jaw. He’s trying to provoke me. He does this almost every morning, and always expects me to snap.

But he’s too little to make me angry, he just doesn’t know it. I didn’t spend over ten years of my life being locked away in a cell to learn self control only to be angered by the likes of Orin. I touch my necklace again to confirm it’s still in place then walk forward. Orin jumps in front of me again.

“What? You’re too scared to talk now? Didn’t you say something yesterday?”

“Out of my way, Orin,” I repeat quietly. “Or what?” One of his minions snicker. “You’re gonna have your parents bribe to have him chased out of the academy?” Once again, everyone bursts into laughter.

Orin laughs but his eyes suddenly drop to my necklace. “What even is that thing you always wear around your neck for? What does a boy without magic need a crystal necklace for?”

A small smile touches my lips. Oh, you have no idea.

He reaches for it but I catch his wrists quickly before his fingers can touch the crystal. “Don’t.”

His smile vanishes. For a moment, he stares at my hand wrapped around his wrist. Then he looks up at me, humiliation flashing across his face. “Let go.” I do.

He takes a step back, his face twisting with anger. “You think you can touch me?”

“I didn’t touch you. I only stopped you from touching something that doesn’t belong to you.” His face reddens.

He draws back his fist, and swings.