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Dethroned.

What would happen if you were brought into a world that hated you from your first breath, your parents abandoning you at birth. How would you feel? Sora is a 12 year old boy who was abandoned by his parents at birth, he was hated by everything around him and the government stopped at nothing to put him back in order. All that Sora wanted was to become the number one magic user in the world. He wanted to be someone that everyone could rely on and someone that protects the ones he cares about the most. How will he be able to overcome the obstacles he faces? How will he be able to save everyone that he holds dear and become the number one magic user? DETHRONED.

Mazou · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
98 Chs

The Bully

The bully's fist came at me like a raging bull, but I was ready for him. I parried his attack with ease and countered with a swift kick to his gut, sending him flying into the nearby lockers. As he struggled to get back up, he conjured up a flame in his hand, attempting to hurl a fireball at me. But it was a feeble attempt, and I dodged it with ease.

Angered by my evasion, he lunged at me again, but I was ready. I grabbed his head and slammed it against the locker, then the ground. But he was not done yet. He conjured up another fireball, which he hurled at my face. The burning sensation was unbearable, and tears streamed down my face as the smoke choked me.

But I was not about to give up. He grabbed me by the shirt and started pummeling me with his fists, relentlessly striking me until I was bruised and bloodied. Through the haze of pain, I could barely hear a teacher's voice asking about the fight.

As we were ushered to the headmaster's office to explain the situation, my mind was reeling with a mixture of emotions- anger, pain, and a burning desire to never back down again.

"Sir," I said calmly, my heart racing with the adrenaline from the fight still coursing through my veins, "with all due respect, he attacked a fellow student and I was just there to intervene which caused this fight."

"THAT IS NOT WHAT HAPPENED!" the other student protested, his face twisted in anger.

"I would love to hear both sides of this story," the principal interjected, his voice calm and measured.

I stepped forward with my posture being aggressive. "Take a good look at me and think to yourself who initiated the fight," I spat, pointing at my bruised and battered face. "He's a year older than me, he knows how to use magic. I do not know how to use magic whatsoever. It should be obvious who is the instigator."

As the principal listened to both sides of the story, I couldn't help but feel the weight of the situation bearing down on me. The memories of the fight were still fresh in my mind. I remembered the heat of the fireballs that the other student had thrown at me, the smell of burning hair and skin as they singed my eyebrows and eyelashes.

"Okay, here is what I will do," the principal said finally, breaking the silence. "Both of your parents will get calls from the school informing them of this incident."

"Fair enough," I said, relieved that the situation wasn't worse than it could have been.

"NO, NOT MY MOTHER! PLEASE I BEG YOU!" the other student wailed, collapsing to his knees in front of the principal's desk.

I nodded my head and walked out of the office, trying to ignore the pit of guilt that had formed in my stomach. I didn't have to worry about facing my parents because there were no parents to go home to - I was alone to begin with. I walked over to the local burger joint, hoping to meet up with my friends and distract myself from the events of the day. But by the time I got there, everyone was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my disappointment for missing the chance to eat some juicy burgers with my friends.

"I'm home," I said as I walked into my empty and quiet house, the weight of the day heavy on my shoulders.

I have always longed for the warmth of a loving family, but it was a feeling that remained foreign to me. From the day I was born, I was alone. I spent my childhood in a foster home until the age of eight, where I was deemed capable enough to take care of myself. But the foster home was no haven - it was a gloomy place filled with despondent children who had either been put up for adoption or had lost their families in tragic incidents. The stench of urine and smoke permeated the air, and the environment was far from ideal for any child to grow up in. However, I could not bring myself to hate my parents for abandoning me; I simply felt indifferent towards them.

The next day, I was rudely awakened by the squawking of chickens in my neighbor's yard. After searching for my uniform, I left for school, only to be stopped by Leo at the front of my house.

"Why weren't you at the burger joint yesterday?" Leo inquired, concerned upon seeing the bruises on my face.

"I got into a fight. I saw a kid being bullied, so I intervened, and he resorted to using fire magic on me."

"You took on someone who could use magic and held your ground?" Leo was impressed.

"He was weak. Even if I knew magic, I wouldn't have needed to use it. He was all bark and no bite."

"Well, I'm glad you're okay!"

With that, Leo and I headed to school. The campus was massive, and the scale of its grandeur could only be appreciated when seen with one's own eyes.

"GUYS!" Rayne called out to us as she approached, panting heavily.

"What's up, Rayne?" I asked.

"I need both of you to see this." She grabbed both Leo and me by the arm and dragged us to the back of the school, where a group of senior middle schoolers were bullying the weak yet again.

"Do you all have nothing better to do?" I asked them, my eyes narrowing.

"What are you going to do about it?"

All three of the bullies gave me a smug grin and began to laugh, thinking I was a weakling who couldn't use magic.

"WHAT ARE YOU LAUGH-?"

"Let me handle this," I interrupted Leo.

I stepped forward, my eyes narrowed with a steely determination. The three bullies stood there, snickering and sneering, thinking they had the upper hand. But they had no idea what they were up against.

One of them lunged forward, throwing a punch my way, but I easily dodged it, moving with the grace and precision of a dancer. I continued to close in on them, inching my way towards the helpless child who was cowering behind them.

Another mindless jab was thrown my way, but it was child's play to block it with ease. And then, in one swift motion, I took down another thug with a single kick. Only one remained, and he was visibly shaking with fear.

He slapped his hand onto the ground, and began reciting some type of incantation that I couldn't understand. Suddenly, the ground beneath me began to crack and split apart. Rock pillars flew out of the ground, at least ten of them coming at me with a vicious force.

I swerved through them, my body moving with the agility of a jungle cat. One by one, I evaded them, and then, without warning, I connected my fist with the bully's jaw, feeling the satisfying crackling sensation of bones breaking beneath my knuckles. He was sent flying into the air, soaring at least 20 feet before crashing down to the ground with a sickening thud.

It was over in a matter of 30 seconds. The bullies lay on the ground, groaning and moaning, nursing their wounds. The helpless child was safe, and that was all that mattered.

"Are you okay?" I asked, turning to the child.

"Thank you... truly," the child replied, their voice shaking with relief.

I stood there, my heart pounding in my chest, my mind racing with a rush of adrenaline. It was moments like these that reminded me of the power that lay within me, even without magic.