Mao

The sky above the academy shone with a flawless golden hue, as if everything there had been designed for perfection… everything except Mao. Among the pristine corridors and the white wings that reflected the light, his stood out like an impossible-to-ignore stain: black, dense, almost as if they absorbed the light around them. The curved horns on his head only made him more striking.

Laughter erupted every morning. Her classmates whispered, some not even trying to hide it. The teachers looked away or sighed in disappointment when Mao tried to join in. Even at home, her parents' silence weighed more than any insult. She wasn't one of them… she never had been.

She tightened her grip on her katana as she walked toward the classroom. No one else carried a weapon like that. No one else needed it… or so they said. But for Mao, it was the only thing that gave her even a sliver of control in a world that constantly rejected her.

Her magic barely reached the basics: small sparks, weak bursts, nothing worth mentioning. That's why she had no access to advanced training. That's why she didn't have a mythical pet like the others, creatures that perched proudly on other people's shoulders while she remained alone.

The clock showed ten minutes until class started. A new teacher would be arriving today, replacing the previous one who had resigned without explanation. The classroom was restless, filled with murmurs and anticipation… but Mao remained in his place, in the back row, as always.

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