"Kael! Kael! Look what I found!"
I turned from the mirror just in time to see a six-year-old blur of wild hair and bare feet come charging into my room. My little brother Eian clutched something in his hands. It was a crooked stick, probably from the garden, or maybe from one of Garran's broken practice wands.
"It's a magic wand!" he declared, hopping onto my bed like a squirrel. "I'm gonna cast the biggest fireball ever! Watch this!"
He jumped to his feet and raised the stick high above his head.
"Boom! Fire Explosion!"
Nothing happened.
I grinned. "That's pretty close. Maybe next time, try spinning while shouting."
Eian spun in a wobbly circle on the mattress, nearly falling. "WAAAH-FIRE-BLAST!"
Still nothing.
He fell back onto the pillows, giggling. "I think it's broken."
"Or maybe it needs a nap," I said, pulling the stick out of his hands and inspecting it. "All that pretend magic probably wore it out."
He nodded, completely serious. "That makes sense." Then his expression turned curious. "Hey… why is everyone so weird today? Everyone's walking around all stiff and grumpy. Even the cook didn't smile at me."
I sat down beside him. "It's my Awakening Ceremony today."
His eyes went huge. "No way. Today's your magic day?!"
"Yeah," I said, trying to sound calm. "It's today."
"What do you do? Do they just hand you a spellbook and go, 'Zap something!'?"
"Not exactly," I said, laughing. "They put you in a big magic circle, and the mages start a ritual. The Wellspring, the source of all magic, answers back and shows what kind of magic you have."
"Like when Garran burned the courtyard bench?"
"Yep. That was fire affinity."
"And Lyra made the whole chandelier spark?"
"Lightning."
Eian leaned in. "You're gonna get something awesome, right?"
"I hope so."
"What if… what if it gives you dragon magic?"
I chuckled. "I don't think dragon magic is real."
"It should be!" he pouted. Then his voice dropped to a whisper. "But what if… it doesn't give you any magic?"
I paused. "Then… that would be bad."
"But that's dumb!" he said loudly. "You're nice, and you always help everyone. That should count too. Magic should care about that!"
I ruffled his messy hair. "Thanks, little one."
There was a knock at the door.
"Kael," a servant said, stepping in. "It's time. They're ready for you in the chamber."
I stood and brushed off my black robe. It still felt too tight at the shoulders.
Eian jumped down from the bed and grabbed my hand. "Can I come too? I wanna see!"
I looked at the servant, then back to Eian. "Just until the big doors. Then back to your room, deal?"
"Deal!"
As we walked through the estate halls, I felt the weight of the moment settle in.
The Ardyn estate was large and cold. The walls were made of black stone. Fire crystals lit the corridors with a steady red glow. Paintings of our ancestors lined the halls. Most of them were Archmages, warriors, or scholars. And, someday, I dreamed of being one of them. I hope.
My father, Lord Renald Ardyn, was the current head of the house. He was a powerful fire mage and a member of the Mage Council. My older brother, Garran, awakened at thirteen. His fire burned white. My sister, Lyra, awakened at nine with lightning. Both were considered gifted, unlike me.
I was nearly sixteen. No one said it outright, but most had already given up on me. I had done everything I could to prove I deserved a place in House Ardyn. And now, with the Wellspring weakening and the Kingdom of Solhara desperate for new mages, failure wasn't just personal, it was dangerous. Across all of Viridion, magic was fading. And I still had none to offer.
"What if you get ALL the elements?" Eian said, breaking my reverie. "Like, boom! Fire, then splash! Water, and then zoom! Air powers!"
"Then I guess I'll be the strongest mage in the kingdom."
"I'm gonna tell everyone my big brother's the best mage in the Kingdom of Solhara!"
I smiled. "You already do."
We reached the double doors of the chamber. Glowing runes pulsed across the stone.
I knelt in front of him. "This is where I go in. You be good, alright?"
He looked up at me. "Will it hurt?"
"No. It's just a light show. You'll see when it's your turn."
He threw his arms around my neck. "I hope you get dragon magic anyway."
"Thanks, Eian."
I looked at the servant. "Take him back to his room. Please."
The servant bowed. "Yes, young master."
As Eian was led away, he turned back and shouted, "Be awesome!"
I waved.
Then I turned toward the doors and stepped into the chamber alone.
When I entered the Awakening Chamber, the High Mage was already waiting. He stood in front of the ritual circle. There was a large formation carved into the floor with old symbols and runes. The council mages stood around it in silence. My family sat behind them. My father was there. So was my mother. Neither of them looked at me.
"Kael Ardyn," the High Mage said, "do you understand what this ceremony means?"
"Yes," I said.
"Then step forward."
I did. The circle began to glow as soon as I entered. The runes lit up beneath my feet.
The ceremony had begun.
Thump. Thump. Thump. My heart was trying to march out of my chest.
The runes around me glowed brighter. The mages began chanting. Their voices were low and steady, speaking in the ancient tongue used only for rituals. The glow of the circle started to pulse with magic.
I watched as the senior mages raised their hands, fingers weaving in intricate motions. Threads of energy began to shimmer in the air. Thin, glowing strands twisted and curled like living threads of fire, water, air, and stone. They wove the elements like cloth, guiding them into precise shapes and flows that fed into the ritual circle.
This was how true mages worked: through weaving. Not just casting, but shaping the Wellspring's energy into structured patterns. A fire weave might look like a ribbon of red heat, twisting through the air before it struck. A water weave pulsed like a current, rippling in their grasp before forming a solid shape.
The mages wove in perfect unison, their patterns joining together like a tapestry, the ritual building layer by layer.
The Awakening had truly begun.
I closed my eyes and waited. I felt the heat of the power entering the circle. It moved under my feet, climbed up my legs, and reached into my chest.
Then... nothing.
At first, I thought I'd missed it. Maybe it was subtle. Maybe I just didn't feel it the way others did. I waited for something, anything. A flicker. A spark. A pull. But there was nothing. Just empty silence inside me.
No fire. No water. No wind. No spark of anything.
My stomach dropped. I told myself to stay calm. That it might just be slow. That the ritual wasn't over yet.
But seconds passed. The warmth faded. The light began to dim. The chanting stopped.
Silence filled the room.
I opened my eyes. The circle was dark now. The runes no longer glowed. I looked up at the High Mage.
He was frowning.
"Again," he said sharply.
I wanted to say something—ask what went wrong—but the words stayed in my throat. I nodded instead, too afraid to make a sound.
The mages restarted the chant. The runes lit up. The air filled with power again. I felt it swirl and press in from all sides.
The magic tried to reach me. I felt it pressing, searching, trying to draw something out of me.
Still nothing.
My chest started to tighten. My hands began to tremble at my sides.
The light faded again.
Whispers began. Low at first. Then louder, like wind through cracks in a door.
"Is he resisting?"
"No… there's just nothing there."
"A void?"
My mind raced. I couldn't understand it. I had trained for this. I had studied everything I could. I had waited for this day my whole life. I had imagined it over and over again. But now, in the moment that mattered most, there was just... emptiness.
They tried a third time. Then a fourth.
Each failure felt like a hammer, beating down harder.
I clenched my jaw. My legs were locked in place. I didn't know where to look anymore. Every face around me felt like it was staring, judging, confirming what I couldn't admit.
By the fifth attempt, the High Mage's voice was strained.
"This is impossible," he muttered.
They chanted. The circle lit. It failed. Again.
I felt like I was sinking.
What if this really was it?
What if there was nothing inside me to awaken?
Finally, the High Mage raised his hand. "Enough."
The runes flickered once, then died. The chamber fell completely silent.
The ritual was over.
He looked down at me.
"There is no affinity," he said. "The Wellspring does not answer him."
I didn't move.
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't think.
Another mage stepped forward. "Perhaps there was interference—"
"There was no interference," the High Mage cut in. "This is not a delay. He has no response. Nothing. No element answers his soul."
I heard gasps. Then more whispering.
"A Null?" someone said. "That hasn't happened in over a century."
"But he's an Ardyn…"
My knees felt weak. I stood there, staring at the floor. My fists were clenched at my sides, but I couldn't feel my fingers anymore.
My father stepped forward. His voice was low but hard. "Just as I suspected."
The High Mage didn't look at him. "And yes, the Wellspring confirms your suspicion about your son, Lord Ardyn."
I looked up at my father.
His jaw was clenched. His hands were fists. He didn't look at me. Not really. But I could see the anger and the hurt in his face.
"He's not my son," he said after a long pause. "Not anymore. Strip him of the Ardyn name."