Kaelen had always thought that life never gave without taking away. Every small mercy was balanced by pain. Every kindness was cloaked in a cruel intention.

  So when the old mage told him he had a seal placed on him—one that blocked his magic—Kaelen felt something unfamiliar stir inside of him: hope.

  And hope was dangerous.

  He did not trust the old man. Not yet. Maybe never. But for the time being, he had no other place to go to.

  The next morning,

  Kaelen woke to the scent of something… burnt. His eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim glow of floating blue runes illuminating the stone walls.

  Rubbing his eyes, he thought, 'I'm still in the mage's tower. So, it was not a dream, then.'

  Pushing off the scratchy woolen blanket he’d been given, Kaelen sat up on the rickety wooden bed. The room he’d been offered was small—barely more than a closet. It was a single wooden desk, a chair, and shelves filled with books he couldn’t read.

  Suddenly, the door creaked open and the old mage peeped into the room with a big smile on his face, saying, "Ah, good. You’re awake.”

  Kaelen scowled seeing the big smile on his face and murmured, "Was that you trying to cook?”

  The old man walked in, holding a blackened plate with what might have once been bread and pointed out in a matter of fact way, "I’ll have you know, this was an experiment. Not a failure.”

  Kaelen raised a brow looking at the plate and remarked, "Looks like charcoal.”

  “Looks can be deceiving," The old man replied.

  Kaelen watched as the old man took a bite… and immediately spat it out.

  "Cough! Cough! Cough!", The old mage choked on the bread and said, "A-Alright, fine. Maybe I’m not a master chef.”

  Kaelen snorted despite himself. The momentary amusement faded quickly as he remembered where he was and why, 'This is temporary. Trust no one.'

  The old mage pulled a chair beside the small desk. He snapped his fingers and set down a different plate—a proper meal this time. A slice of fresh bread, some dried meat, and an apple.

  Kaelen hesitated looking at the meal and asked skeptically, "What do you want?”

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  The old mage sighed, rubbing his temples and tiredly said, "Must I want something to feed a starving boy?”

  Kaelen crossed his arms and said, "That’s how it usually works.”

  The old mage studied him for a long moment, then gave a tired smile, saying, "Then I suppose I must prove to you that not all things come with hidden daggers.”

  Kaelen looked at the food again, then cautiously picked up the bread and took a bite, thinking, 'If he wanted to kill me, he’d have done it already.'

  After eating, Kaelen followed the old mage to a large circular room—a study filled with floating books, enchanted quills, and glowing sigils etched into the stone floor.

  "What exactly are we doing here?”, Kaelen asked as he looked around the study with crossed arms.

  The old mage leaned against a desk, eyeing him and said, "I want to see what happens when you try to cast magic.”

  Kaelen tensed and said irritatingly, "I told you. I’ve tried before. It doesn’t work.”

  The old mage’s gaze didn’t waver and he ordered, "Try again.”

  Kaelen clenched his jaw and thought, 'This is pointless.'

  He held out a hand, focusing like he had when he was younger. He remembered watching other young boys summon small flames, shift the air, or even call forth a single spark.

  He focused on something. Anything. Yet... nothing happened.

  TIred of holding out his hand, Kaelen exhaled sharply and let it down. He turned his gaze to the old mage and sadly asked, "Satisfied?”

  The old mage scratched his chin and rolled his eyes, "Hmph!”

  He walked toward Kaelen and grabbed his wrist all of a sudden.

  "What the hell are you doing?”, Kaelen shouted angrily.

  "Tracing the magic lines in your body.”, The old mage replied instantly.

  Kaelen tried to pull away, but the old man held him in place, muttering something under his breath as a faint golden light pulsed through his fingertips.

  'What is he doing?', Kaelen thought looking at the golden light entering his body.

  Then—something shifted inside him. A feeling of something there but unreachable as if standing before a locked door with no key.

  Kaelen inhaled sharply and asked, "What… what was that?”

  The old man released his wrist and nodded, while saying, "Yup, I was right. You do have magic. It's just... sealed. Like there's some big door that blocks it."

  Kaelen clenched his fists and said immediately, "... Then remove it.”

  The old mage didn’t answer immediately like him. Instead, he walked over to a bookshelf, pulling down an ancient-looking tome and said, "Seals like this aren’t simple. It's very complex. Very ancient. It's something I've never seen before. That's rare, even for an Archmage like me."

  He flipped through the pages, running a finger across a passage written in an unfamiliar language and casually said, "Someone put a great deal of effort into making sure you never accessed your power.”

  Kaelen’s blood ran cold and he shuddered as he asked, "W-Who?”

  The old mage met his gaze and said, "That is the question, isn’t it?”

  Kaelen clenched his fists and thought, 'All these years… I thought I was just weak. Worthless. And now you tell me someone did this to me?'

  He exhaled sharply and angrily ordered, "Then break it.”

  "Complex seals are delicate, my boy.", The old mage tapped the tome with his finger and said, "Break them the wrong way, and it could kill you.”

  "T-Then do it the right way", Kaelen asked.

  The old man smirked and replied, "You’re impatient.”

  "I’ve waited long enough.”, Kaelen replied as he tried to control his trembling fists.

  The old man sighed, closing the tome and said, "We’ll take this slow. First, I want you to train.”

  Kaelen frowned and asked, "Train for what?”

  "To withstand what comes next.”