The Talentless Boy Who Challenged the Devil

Kael's mother was on her knees when the man struck her.

The wooden bowl slipped from her hands, scattering the last of their grain across the muddy floor. She reached for it instinctively, but the man planted his boot on her wrist before she could gather a single handful.

"Did I ask you to stop working?"

"No, sir." Her voice trembled. "Please, I only wanted to collect the grain. We have not eaten since yesterday."

"And whose fault is that?"

Kael stood frozen in the doorway.

His mother's face was pale, her lips pressed together to keep her from crying. Beside her lay the unfinished stack of ironwood logs she had been ordered to carry to the western district before sunrise. Her fingers were swollen, and blood had seeped through the cloth wrapped around one palm.

The man looked at the logs, then back at her.

"You were given until dawn. The sun is already rising, and you have completed barely half the assignment. Do you think the Veylcrest authorities distribute food to people who cannot even obey a simple order!?"

"My youngest son has been sick," she whispered desperately. "I worked through the night, but I could not finish everything alone."

The man laughed.

"Then you should have thought about that before raising a family of useless people."

Something inside Kael tightened.

He had heard those words before. Useless. Weak. Talentless. Words that followed his family wherever they went, as though being born without power were a crime inherited through the blood.

But hearing them directed at his mother made his hands shake.

"Get your boot off her wrist."

The man turned.

"Well, look who has finally decided to leave his hiding place."

Kael stepped into the room.

He was eighteen, tall enough to look a grown man in the eyes, but his thin frame and worn clothes betrayed the years of hardship he had endured. 

There was no magic circulating beneath his skin, no awakened core to strengthen his muscles, and no mark of elemental affinity glowing upon his body.

Nothing that could make another person think twice before hurting him.

He was the unfortunate talentless one. In Vexmora, every household had at least one talented member, regardless of rank. Kael’s family was the only exception, making their suffering far worse than that of other F-rank households.

“Kael," his mother pleaded. "Stay back."

He ignored her.

"She was working before you arrived. You can see that for yourself."

"Did I ask for your opinion?"

The official removed his boot from his mother's wrist, only to seize Kael by the collar and drag him forward.

"Do you know what separates your family from the people you serve? They have something worth protecting. Their talents make them valuable. Their strength keeps this world alive."

The academy needed powerful warriors.

The world needed people who could wield magic.

And Kael had spent eighteen years proving that he was neither.

The official shoved him backward.

"Your admission assessment was a failure. Your talent examination was a failure. Even after eighteen years, you cannot produce the faintest trace of magic. Yet your family still expects to be treated like decent people."

Kael stumbled but caught himself against the wall.

"Leave my family out of this."

The official's expression hardened.

"You think you can give me orders?"

He struck Kael across the face.

The impact sent him crashing against the wooden table. Pain burst across his cheek, and something sharp cut his palm as he caught himself.

His mother cried out.

"Stop! Please, he has done nothing!"

"Then teach him to behave like someone who understands his place."

The official approached again.

Kael could have stayed down. 

But his mother was crying, and he could not bear the sound.

He pushed himself upright.

"Touch her again," he said, blood gathering at the corner of his mouth, "and I'll make you regret it."

Silence settled over the room.

Then the official burst out laughing.

"You?"

He raised his hand, and a red glow spread across his fingers. Heat rolled through the small room as the magic gathered around his knuckles.

Kael's stomach dropped.

A fire affinity.

"Let me show you what regret looks like."

The official swung.

Kael tried to move, but the magic struck him before he could escape. The force threw him through the doorway and onto the hard ground outside.

For several seconds, he could not breathe.

Then he heard his mother's footsteps and cries, and the official's laughter.

The world blurred around him, but the pain in his chest was sharp enough to keep him conscious.

He had done everything he could think of.

He had trained until his body ached. He had submitted to examinations that left him dizzy and sick. 

He had stood beneath awakening crystals, placed his hands on ancient stones, and waited for even the weakest spark of magic.

Nothing had answered him.

Sometimes, he wondered whether Astraveth had forgotten his name.

Then a shadow fell across him.

"Next time," the official said, "I'll make sure your entire family remembers what happens when the talentless forget their place."

He turned toward Kael's mother.

"Double the work. Deliver all of it by tomorrow morning. If a single log is missing, your family will lose its food allocation for the month."

**************

It was at dawn when the family heard a loud bang at their door, and Clara stiffened.

Kael forced himself upright, swallowing the fear in his own voice.

"Who is it?"

"An official messenger from Veylcrest Academy."

His mother and father stared at him.

Kael stared back.

Then with hesitation, he opened the door.

A young woman in a dark uniform stood outside, holding a sealed document. The silver insignia on her collar identified her as an academy registrar.

She looked at his bruised face, then at the poor condition of the house. Whatever she thought, she kept it to herself.

"Are you Kael?"

"Yes."

She handed him the document.

"By order of the Sovereign Rector, Lord Vaelthar Draven, you are to report to Veylcrest Academy before Sunset. Your admission has been approved."

Kael immediately thought he had misheard her and turned to see the shock on his family's faces

"My admission?"

"That is what I said."

"But I have no talent."

She placed the document in his hand and left, leaving him in his own thoughts.

Kael slammed the door shut and ran to his mother, then proceeded to break the seal with fingers that suddenly felt numb.

The letter contained his name and every detail he needed about the school but did not mention why he was being admitted suddenly.

Only the signature of Lord Vaelthar Draven.

His mother pressed a hand over her mouth.

"Kael..."

He looked at her.

For the first time that morning, he saw something other than fear in her eyes.

Hope.

It was fragile, almost painful to witness, but it was there.

"Does this mean you can finally awaken your talent?" she asked.

Kael looked down at the letter.

"I don't know."

"Perhaps they found something in your examination. Perhaps there is still a chance."

He wanted to believe her.

He wanted to believe that the academy had made a mistake, that someone had discovered an overlooked sign of magic, that the years of humiliation and helplessness had finally led to something better.

But he couldn't shake off the negativity that came with it.

Still, what other choice did he have?

He folded the letter and slipped it inside his shirt.

"I'll go."

His mother embraced him again, and this time Kael held her tightly.

He did not know what Lord Vaelthar Draven or the academy wanted from him.

But he knew that remaining where he was would condemn his family to more suffering.

For their sake, he would walk through those gates.

Even if the academy hated him.

Even if he failed again.

Even if the world was right about him.

---

Veylcrest Dominion Academy rose above the city like a fortress built to defy the heavens.

Its black stone towers pierced the clouds, and enormous barriers shimmered around its outer walls, carrying ancient enchantments designed to repel the creatures beyond human territory.

Some summoned flames between their palms. Others moved objects without touching them or surrounded their bodies with shimmering protective auras.

Kael watched them from the entrance.

For a moment, he felt the familiar ache of being left behind.

Then he straightened his back and stepped inside.

He had barely crossed the courtyard when a voice stopped him.

"You're the talentless boy they admitted?"

A group of students stood before him on the training grounds. 

The one in front wore a silver insignia on his chest, marking him as a member of the academy's upper ranks. 

A high rank meant access to better training, superior equipment, and privileges that ordinary students could only dream of.

 It also meant that people like Kael were expected to obey.

The student looked him over with open disgust.

"I heard the academy had standards. Apparently, they've lowered them."

His companions laughed.

But Kael continued walking.

Darius stepped into his path.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Then, he held out a leather bag.

"Carry this to the eastern dormitory."

Kael lowered his eyes to it blankly.

"Carry it yourself."

Silence.

"What did you say?"

Kael's heart hammered against his ribs, but he refused to look away.

"I said you can carry your own belongings."

Darius dropped the bag.

Then he punched Kael in the stomach.

Pain folded Kael forward. Before he could recover, the student seized his collar and hurled him onto the stone pavement.

More students gathered around them.

Kael pushed himself up, but a kick caught him in the shoulder and sent him crashing back down.

"Know your place, "He snarled.

Kael tasted blood again.

He had barely entered the academy, and already he was being treated as though his existence were an insult.

The student raised his fist for another blow.

"That's enough."

The command cut through the crowd.

An instructor approached, his dark robes embroidered with silver runes. 

The students immediately stepped aside, their expressions shifting from amusement to respect.

Kael felt a flicker of relief.

Finally, someone would stop this.

The instructor glanced at the student, then at Kael lying on the ground.

The instructor's eyes settled on Kael.

"You have no recognized talent, no demonstrated combat ability, and no standing among your peers. Tell me, why should this academy waste its resources on you?"

His throat tightened.

He could have explained that he had never been allowed to train properly. 

But he suspected none of it would matter.

So he forced himself to stand.

"Give me a chance to prove myself."

The instructor studied him for a moment.

Then he smiled without warmth.

"Very well."

He turned toward the gathering students and raised his voice.

"Tomorrow morning, all newly admitted students will undergo their first combat assessment. Kael will participate."

Murmurs spread through the courtyard.

The instructor looked directly at him.

"You will fight an opponent selected by the academy. If you fail to demonstrate the minimum physical ability required for survival, your admission will be revoked."

Kael's stomach sank.