1 Chapter 1: Already seen.

Two men were facing each other, one was tall with an imposing musculature, measuring at least 1.90m tall and in a bad posture, the other was short, measuring 1.60m tall, his hair was red and virvolent as the wind blew, while he was smiling. The atmosphere was tense, the duel was coming to an end. Prometheus the archmage with blood flames, the man with red hair, was surrounded by ruby-coloured flames. He laughed, while looking at the magician Troène, the man facing him, he was nicknamed the "hero of the people".

- TROÈNE it's over for you! YOU SHOULD HAVE FOLLOWED ME. With your help we could have changed this world, destroyed the rich, abolished the monarchy and avenged ourselves on its nobles.

Flames were coming out of its orbits.

- YOU ARE FOUL! Talk about genocide. I'd rather die than survive in this world.

-When you die, you will make my first sacrifice.

Prometheus made a movement with these arms and the flames that once was removable, sprang up towards Thoene. Troène shouted a word.

-MURE

An ice wall as hard as steel and at least 2 metres wide appeared. This wall received the full force of the giant flames that Prometheus was projecting. An endurance battle began, unfortunately Troène was a simple magician, and his opponent was the terrifying archimage of a thousand fires. The ice wall began to crack. Troene felt the heat passing through the breaches, but then everything seemed lost to him. His mana brain began to accelerate. A frosty blue light surrounded Troène's body and he began to avoid it. He says a word.

- Blizzard

A torrential and frosty wind swept the room. The Flames that Prometheus projected, lost their blood-red hue, then calmed down. The magician Troène made another moving arm, raising his arm towards the sky, at the same time as the frosty wind began to increase in intensity. The Archimage Prometheus fell to the ground with his buttocks forward. His mouth was wide open and stuttering.

- HOW... YOU... no. YOU! An archimage. Impossible. Do you know the sacrifices I had to make to be one.

Troène approached Prometheus by making small pats, he no longer tested flames of the room was immersed in a polar atmosphere, Prometheus began to tremble with cold. Troène looked at him with a wide smile.

- It's over, you crazy bastard.

Prometheus was scared, he still had so much to do. Destroying the kingdom had always been only the beginning of his plan. He wanted to create a new nation, where all men were ego, he also planned to make the nobles who had destroyed his life pay, and above all he planned to revive his mother who had died when he was still a child. He had so many projects, but it was almost over. Troene looked at Prometheus who couldn't get up, his buttocks had frozen when they came into contact with the ground, he seemed pathetic. Troène laughed.

- demonic magician, I Troène, the new archimage master of ice and light, grants me the right to judge you. For the premeditation of a coup d'état, for killing innocent people and above all for extracting their souls..... wanting to revive the dead she is ashamed of. I sentence you to death.

Troene pointed his finger at Prometheus. A whitish lightning flash burst out of his finger and then passed through Prometheus' head through his mana brain. The archimage with a thousand flames spread against the ground, his brain pierced, his face covered with the weapon, he died as he lived. In sadness and loneliness. Troene looked at his ex-friend's body.

-Rest in peace.

Behind Troène a door opened. He takes out his sidekicks. They all seemed surprised.

-Ho... How did you do it.

- An archimage!

- HO my gods Troene you survived.

They were all happy with their friends' success. And hugged each other.

******

In a dark alley a child woke up. This child was homeless, when you saw his body you could see that he wasn't being fed. This child was actually Prometheus when he was 10 years old.

- DON'T KILL ME!

He was panicking, breathing fast and saying inconsistent things, as if he had just had a bad nightmare. His frond was soaked with sweat and his complexion was livid. After five minutes the spirit of Prometheus calmed down and he understood that he was no longer in danger. He still had trouble thinking, but he got up to see where he was. It took him less than a second to recognize this place, no doubt this place was the street where he grew up, slept every night, and lost his mother, during his childhood. But that was more than 21 years ago. Prometheus did not understand.

An illution? Or else I'm back in the past. How is that possible? And what year am I? No it is not possible, an illusion cannot have as much power, unless it is a spell of divine level. So I'm in the past...

Prometheus used to talk to himself. This bad habit came to him from his childhood, after his mother's death. At that time, he had no one to talk to and after a while he started talking to himself. As if to accommodate his loneliness.

Prometheus looked at his hands for a brief moment.

-I'm at least 8 years old. The scar proves it.

Since the age of 8 years old Prometheus had a scar on his left hand. He got it because of a bad meeting. One day a man had come to Prometheus, this man had seemed drunk to him, and his properties made no sense. That day Prometheus had tried to make the man leave, but without him knowing why this man panicked and tried to kill him with a knife he was carrying. Prometheus had blocked the blade with his left hand, and since then he had a horrible scar on his left hand.

-It means... Mom's been dead for a year.

Prometheus is silent for a few seconds. He seemed to be thinking, thinking about something hard. Prometheus' mother had died when he was 7 years old, dead of fain. She had always been a weak woman by constitution and living on the street was not for her at all. His mother was a good woman who cherished and shared everything with her child. This is in fact what killed her, she died one day in the street without anyone knowing what, but Prometheus was intimately convinced "she died because of my fault". During his childhood he never had this thought, but growing up he understood the harsh reality of life and the sacrifices his mother made.

Prometheus had no family left. They were all dead, murdered because of the nobles. Prometheus' family was in fact a secondary magician's family.

During the great civil war between the noble houses and the great mage houses, the Prometheus family was very active and it was made up of many noble enemies. Among their enemies was the Landcaster family, a very old and rich noble house. This noble house had sponsored the murder of the entire Prometheus family. After his father's death, as well as his entire family without it. Prometheus and his mother, the only survivors of the massacre, found themselves on the street. Unfortunately, Prometheus' mother was a non-mage, she suffered from a rare disease that gangravated her mana nuclei, she could neither practice magic nor make physical effort, so she could not work.

- Once again, I'm useless.

Prometheus sat down and gave a stitch against the ground, he was crying. In the middle of this street littered with garbage Prometheus looked like a stray dog. After a few minutes he regained his spirit and got up.

- The Landcaster family will pay me for it. But first I will deal with the mistakes of my past, starting with my apprenticeship.

Prometheus had never received a pleasing teaching of magic. He had only gone to a specialized school for 2 years against the other magician who remained at least 5 years. In the end, these two years Prometheus had to flee the country. He had been wanted as a criminal for the murder of his mentor, yet he was not guilty. All his life he wondered why this life had been so unfair to him.

- I have to find money and pass the free canndida entrance exam. But... before I can do that, I have to fix a bigger problem. My body is too weak... what to do. I can't practice magic yet, otherwise its risk of ending up like last time.

In his previous life, Prometheus' biggest problem had been his mana brain. Since his childhood he had suffered a serious injury from practicing magic with a weak body. Since then, Prometheus had damaged his brains in mana. This meant that Prometheus had never been able to fully use his magic skills in his entire life. Prometheus had to take care of his body first, then he would try to join a magic academy. He got up and started walking, Prometheus had ember red hair and was 1m12 tall, his skins were originally whitish, but due to the lack of hygiene in the street, his body was covered with dirt. Moreover, Prometheus suffered from a problem of poor nutrition, he had his skin on his bones, when he walked he looked like a skeleton with life.

- I have to eat... so money. But to make money I only have magic. Shit....

Prometheus was looking for a way to earn money, suddenly he had an idea.

Author's note: Hello this is my first novel and sign that you will like it. This story tries to tell you the life in black magician. It's an anti-hero's, but Prometheus is not a bad guy because he's bad. In this story I would explain to you what made him become like this and above all you will follow his evolution.