Life at Aethel Academy settled into a routine, a stark contrast between the vibrant displays of
elemental power that permeated the training grounds and the quiet, persistent efforts Nat made in the solitude of his dorm room. While other students practiced manipulating torrents of water,
conjuring gusts of wind that whipped through the air, and shaping earth into formidable
constructs, Nat struggled to coax a slightly larger flame from his fingertips.
The entrance ceremony had branded him. He was "Nat, the F+ fire elemental," a label
whispered with a mixture of pity and derision. He became an easy target for those eager to
assert their own superiority. Students with even D-tier affinities would openly mock his attempts
at elemental practice, their laughter echoing across the training grounds like a constant
reminder of his inadequacy.
Kael, the wind elemental with the B- tier affinity, was a particularly persistent tormentor. With his
naturally arrogant demeanor amplified by his relatively strong affinity, he seemed to take
personal amusement in belittling Nat. During practical sessions, Kael would often create gusts
of wind that extinguished Nat's fledgling flames, followed by a condescending smirk and a
cutting remark.
"Still playing with embers, F+?" he'd sneer, his voice laced with mockery. "Maybe you should
stick to lighting birthday candles." His entourage of equally privileged students would erupt in
laughter, their eyes glinting with cruel amusement.
Other instructors, while not openly scornful, often overlooked Nat. In group training exercises,
he was usually relegated to the sidelines, his contributions deemed negligible. The implicit
message was clear: he was a waste of their time and resources.
The constant ridicule wore heavily on Nat. There were days when the weight of their scorn felt
unbearable, when the whispers followed him down the hallways and the laughter echoed in his
dreams. Doubt would creep in, whispering insidious suggestions that perhaps they were right,
that he was indeed a hopeless case.
Yet, beneath the surface of his humiliation, a stubborn resolve began to take root. The system,
his secret ally, provided a constant reminder that his current weakness was not his final state.
Each level gained, each fraction of an improvement in his control, fueled a quiet determination.
He would not break. He would endure their taunts, their dismissiveness, and he would prove
them all wrong. The fire within him, though small, refused to be extinguished by their scorn. He
would use their derision as fuel, a constant reminder of what he needed to overcome. His
journey was solitary, his growth unseen by the judging eyes of the academy, but his
determination burned brighter with each passing day.