Chapter 1 

Light

Dark, luscious locks framed Zeus's face, accentuating his thick, well-defined brows. His eyes, a deep midnight hue, held an enigmatic allure that seemed to draw me in despite my better judgment. The aristocratic contour of his nose complemented the pinkish, thin, and curvy lips that adorned his masculine jawline. His body exuded strength and stature, a manifestation of his big build. This was his appearance—a visage that commanded attention and left a lasting impression.

As Zeus, the formidable enchanter, moved through the world, numerous girls vied for his notice, hoping to captivate the attention of the high-profile man. He was the most formidable student in Magthonous, admired and cherished by all. Zeus possessed a multitude of enchantments, wielding control over wind, fire, earth, water, nature, ice, thunder, and light. His face, reminiscent of a Greek god, earned him the fitting moniker Zeus.

His friends, too, were heirs to enchantments, fortunate to have complete and happy families. The atmosphere around them was filled with camaraderie and shared abilities, creating a world where they thrived.

"Shut up, Tylon!" I closed my eyes in irritation, trying to block out the noise from those behind me. Their incessant banter was becoming more than just an annoyance.

"Haha! You wish you were as impressive as me, Rio."

I shoved my earphones into my ears, cranking up the volume to drown out the surrounding commotion. Frustration built within me as I anticipated potential encounters with those enchanters later.

The professor finally arrived, diverting my attention. She expounded on the significance of light in our world, taking the opportunity to showcase Eauzi Lynwood, the proud son of the great light enchanter, Beau Lynwood. Eauzi, often teased by his classmates, reveled in his lineage.

Glancing behind me, Minoa sat between Zam and Zeus, as usual. Zam Collins, the offspring of the water enchanter Zac Collins, and Zeus, the son of Zacchaeus Smith and Celestia Morgan, displayed their respective enchantments.

I cringed at the mention of their names mentally. If not for a distant shout, I might have remained lost in my thoughts.

In front of me, Ma'am Pama's face turned crimson. I swallowed hard, meeting her wrathful gaze.

"Verian Vion! Are you even listening? Your mind seems to be wandering!" I blushed, bowing my head as my classmates burst into laughter.

"Sorry, Ma'am," I apologized.

"Stand up! Go to the back and raise your hands until the end of my class! You ungrateful wizard," she scolded. I sighed and was about to comply when she continued, "Without light, our world would be total darkness. It gives us hope and passion to strive..."

I was ready to mock her for stating the obvious when her last words stopped me. Light provides passion and hope for us to strive. A bitter smile crossed my lips. Was my life truly without light? Always dwelling in the darkness, lacking hope and the passion to strive for tomorrow. I just wanted it all to end.

My arms ached, nearly an hour into the class. I longed to touch them, but fearing Ma'am's wrath, I resisted. The pain intensified, and I desperately wished for it to stop.

Looking at Ma'am with pleading eyes, she only arched her brows and smirked. It seemed like I might as well sit down. The pain was unbearable.

As I was about to put my hands down, I felt a gust of wind trying to keep them in place. I blinked as the tingling sensation vanished. I glanced at Zeus, who appeared blank, his jaw clenched. I disregarded it, focusing on the lesson.

Yet, an unusual feeling accompanied the air, as if urging me not to give up. I mustn't. Despite whatever assistance the wind offered, I voluntarily lowered my hands, turning to Zeus, who now gazed at me with a perplexed expression. I glimpsed Ma'am Pama's growing frustration in my peripheral vision.

"Did I instruct you to lower your hands?" Her tone was stern, yet I paid it no heed. My attention was captivated by the intense gaze of Zeus, his dark eyes narrowing as they locked onto mine. His face darkened, a scowl forming, but I refused to avert my gaze from him.

"No, Ma'am. But I believe your reputation is about to take a hit once the Head learns of this," I retorted, turning to face her only to witness a mixture of shock and anger as she motioned for me to sit.

"Witty," whispered Vino, son of Vito Reed.

Class continued, my classmates, casting disapproving glares in my direction. "Get a sheet of paper. We'll have a one-hundred-item quiz," my classmates declared, eagerly grabbing sheets.

The quiz began, and within minutes, questions flooded the room. Scratching of necks, covert glances at others' answers—seriously? Is this the consequence of their constant judgment towards me?

Upon completion, papers were swiftly exchanged and disappointment filled the air. Except for Zeus, calm and expressionless, as if confident in his responses and the score he would achieve.

"Gustav Clinton, 78."

"Jorel Dewitt, 75."

"Tylon Zackery, 79,"

"Zam Collins, 89."

"Ramzior Romwell, 87."

"Rio Harris, 74."

"Eauzi Lynwood, 78."

"Minoa William, 85."

"Vino Reed, 91."

"Luwen Martin, 90."

"Shaun Walther, 87."

Classmates lamented their scores, blaming the challenging essay section with its three-minute time limit.

"And we have two...high scores," announced Ma'am, raising her eyebrows as her gaze softened when directed toward me and the person beside me. "Zeleus Smith and Verian Vion, 98."

Hearing my name alongside his made me want to vomit. It felt utterly wrong. The class erupted in applause, praising Zeus as if he alone had achieved a remarkable score. Mentally cursing, I clenched my teeth.

As the teacher bid farewell and left, I felt the scrutiny of the group behind me. Meeting Zeus's mesmerizing dark orbs, I shifted my gaze away before marching out.

All eyes are on you. Revel in the attention, for it won't last. Enjoy it while you can because, as they say, I'll make sure to wipe that grin off your face, Smith.

The day continued, dragging on as I navigated through the corridors, a sea of students parting to make way for Zeus and his entourage. Their laughter echoed, the embodiment of a privileged existence that I could never fully grasp.