Ember Ascension: Rise of the broken mage

“Argh!” Mike’s voice echoed through the wide training hall as he pushed his energy forward. A faint glow gathered at his fingertips, flickering like a tiny flame fighting to stay alive. He gritted his teeth and focused harder, pulling more power from within himself until the glow grew brighter and hotter. Slowly, it shaped itself into a small ball of fire resting above his palm. He breathed out heavily, sweat forming on his forehead, but a proud smile spread across his face. “There it is…” he muttered. His green eyes lifted toward his target. Three straw men stood far ahead, lined up about a hundred meters away. They looked simple and harmless, but to Mike, they were proof of whether his training was working or not. He steadied his breathing and raised his hand again. The fireball trembled for a moment, then began to grow bigger as he poured more energy into it. It expanded until it was as large as a boulder, its heat making the air around it ripple. “Come on… just a little more…” he whispered. With a sharp breath, he thrust his hand forward. The fireball shot across the hall like a blazing comet and slammed into the straw men. Flames burst out at once, swallowing them whole. In seconds, the dry figures crackled and burned, turning black as fire danced wildly around them. “Bullseye!” Mike shouted, raising his fist into the air, his face lighting up with excitement. At that same moment, the large doors of the training hall opened quietly. A blonde girl stepped inside, her shoes making soft sounds against the floor. She paused when she heard his shout and turned her head toward the burning targets. For a second, she just stared, her expression blank with confusion. Then her lips trembled. She quickly covered her mouth, but it was too late. A laugh escaped. Mike turned at the sound, his smile fading into a puzzled look. His eyes landed on her as she tried, and failed, to hold back her laughter. She walked toward him, her shoulders shaking, and when she got close enough, he could clearly hear her quiet giggles. “Are you the one responsible for that?” she asked, pointing at the now half-burnt straw men. Mike straightened proudly and ran his fingers through his hair. “Yep,” he said with a confident grin. “Impressive, right?” That was all it took. The girl burst out laughing. She bent over, clutching her stomach as her laughter grew louder, her blonde hair falling over her face as she struggled to breathe. “You have got to be kidding me!” she said between laughs. Mike’s smile slowly disappeared. “What’s so funny?” he asked, his voice tightening with irritation. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she replied, trying to calm herself as she stood up straight again. She brushed off her dress and fixed her expression, though a small smile still lingered. “Actually, I’m quite impressed…” Mike raised an eyebrow, unsure whether to believe her or not. She looked at him for a moment, then let out a soft chuckle again. “Honestly, I am impressed,” she continued. “If I were someone like you, I wouldn’t even leave my dorm to talk, not to mention come all the way here just to embarrass myself in public.” Mike’s hand clenched into a fist. The pride he felt a moment ago disappeared, replaced by annoyance. “Can you just leave me alone?” he said, his voice firm. “I was practicing my fireball magic just fine before you came along.” The girl tilted her head and looked at him with a teasing smile that did not feel friendly at all. “Why don’t you practice something else?” she said, her voice full of mockery. “You are always practicing that fireball magic of yours. Don’t you get bored of it?” Her words hit harder than he wanted to admit. Mike’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. She crossed her arms and continued, clearly enjoying herself. “I mean honestly, everyone in this school has learned four or five magic skills after just a year,” she added. “You are the only weirdo that has just one…” She raised a finger and pushed it close to his face. “One.” Mike looked at her finger for a second, then slowly turned his face away. He did not trust himself to speak without losing control. “Okay,” he said quietly, forcing his voice to stay calm. “Can you leave me alone so I can practice my one magic skill?” The girl shook her head quickly, her blonde hair swinging around her face. “I can’t leave,” she replied. “I’m waiting for my friends so we can train together.” She gave a small scoff and looked him up and down. “If anyone should leave, it’s you,” she said. “At least I’m trying to save you from embarrassing yourself in front of more people.” Mike’s fingers curled tightly into his palms until his hands began to shake. Her words stung, not because they were new, but because they were true in the eyes of everyone else. Everyone in the academy looked down on him. Because he only knew one magic. But even then… he never stopped training. Without saying another word, Mike turned his back on her, acting as if she no longer existed. He walked to the corner of the training hall where a fresh bundle of straw men had been stacked. He bent down, lifted one, and carried it back to the center. One by one, he began placing them where the old ones had stood, the ashes of his earlier success still scattered on the ground. As he worked, the doors of the hall opened again. More students walked in. Mike did not need to turn around to know who they were. Their voices were enough. “Wait… isn’t that the loser?” one of them said loudly. “He still hasn’t dropped out yet?” Mike’s grip tightened around the straw man he was holding. His fingers dug into the rough surface as he tried to ignore them. “I told him to leave,” another voice said. He recognized it immediately. It was the blonde girl. “I told him you guys were coming so we could train together,” she continued. “But he didn’t listen. I guess he’s not only useless, he’s dumb too.” Laughter followed her words. Mike lowered his head slightly, his expression hardening. He had not even finished placing the straw man down when suddenly— A large hand grabbed it from him. Before he could react, the straw man was ripped out of his grip and thrown aside like it weighed nothing at all. It hit the ground with a dull thud. Mike spun around, anger flashing in his green eyes. “Hey! That was mine!” Mike let out a low growl. In front of him stood a tall boy, easily a head taller than him, with a broad frame and a lazy, mocking smile on his face. The boy dusted his hands as if he had just thrown away trash. “Yours?” he said, glancing at the straw man on the floor. “Everything in this hall is for everyone. Or did you forget where you are, loser?” The group behind him chuckled again. Mike’s fists clenched at his sides. The tall boy stepped closer, looking down at him. “Oh no, everybody,” the tall boy said in an exaggerated tone as he placed a hand on his chest, pretending to be scared. “It looks like we have made him mad. We better be careful, or he might use his fireball on us!” The group burst into laughter again, and even the blonde girl could not hide her smirk as she watched Mike struggle to control himself. “Hey,” she said, turning to the others with a playful look in her eyes, “why don’t we get rid of all his toys so he can finally leave us alone to train?” The idea was met with excitement, and without hesitation, they all rushed toward the corner where the remaining straw men were stacked. Mike’s eyes widened for a second. Then his body froze. They began stomping on the straw men, crushing them under their feet as if they meant nothing at all. Dry straw scattered across the floor with every step, and their laughter only grew louder as they continued. Mike stood there, his hands trembling at his sides, but it was not fear that made him shake. It was fury. “I just wanted to train…” he said under his breath, his voice barely above a whisper. A burning sensation slowly filled his fingers, spreading through his hands like fire crawling under his skin. The familiar heat returned, but this time it was stronger, wilder, and harder to control. Energy began to gather at his fingertips without him even trying. The air around him started to distort. “I said stop!” Mike shouted, his voice echoing across the hall. But they did not stop. They did not even look at him. They kept laughing, too busy enjoying themselves to care. The heat in the training hall began to rise. At first, it was barely noticeable, like standing too close to a warm flame, but within seconds it became unbearable. The air grew thick, heavy, and suffocating. One of the students slowed down, frowning. “Do you guys feel that…?” Another wiped sweat from his forehead. “Why is it getting so hot in here?” The blonde girl paused and turned around. And then her eyes widened. Behind them, Mike stood still, his head slightly lowered, his body surrounded by a faint wave of heat. Above his outstretched hand floated a massive fireball, far bigger than anything he had created before. It roared like a living thing. The flames twisted and surged, glowing so brightly that it lit up the entire hall. Before anyone could react— Mike’s hand moved. The fireball shot forward. It tore through the air with a loud roar, heading straight toward them.