Chapter 2 — A House That Rejects Him
Morning sunlight washed over the Valecroft estate, glinting off pale stone walls and tall windows carved with faint runes. The mansion was elegant, orderly, and alive with mana—an unmistakable sign of a noble mage house.
Liam hated mornings like this.
The training hall sat at the heart of the estate, wide and open, its floor carved with circular spell formations meant to absorb excess magic. The air itself felt warm and restless, filled with drifting sparks of mana responding to those inside.
Liam stood at the far end of the formation.
He didn't belong here. Everyone knew it—including him.
At the center of the hall stood Master Aldren Faelwyn, a Tier 2 mage hired to train the Valecroft heirs. He was tall and lean, with short silver hair and sharp eyes that missed nothing. His blue robes were simple, but the mana around him was tightly controlled, heavy with experience.
In front of him stood the duke's children.
Cassian Valecroft, sixteen, stood first. Tall, broad-shouldered, with neatly kept crimson hair and confident amber eyes, he looked every bit the future head of the house. Mana responded to him eagerly, circling his body as if awaiting command.
Beside him was Elara Valecroft, fifteen. Slim, composed, with chestnut hair tied back and calm blue eyes. Her presence was quiet, but mana flowed around her smoothly, obedient and refined.
Behind them stood the twins.
Marcus Valecroft, fourteen, clenched his fists, dark hair messy, jaw tight with impatience. Mana flared around him unevenly, like a flame struggling to stay lit.
And then there was Liam Valecroft.
Also fourteen.
Tall, well-built, ash-blond hair falling into gray eyes that looked tired rather than weak. He wore the same training robes as the others, yet mana ignored him completely. No warmth. No pull. No response.
Nothing.
Master Aldren raised his hand. "Basic elemental manifestation," he said. "Fireball. Remember—control matters more than power."
His gaze moved to Cassian.
"Begin."
Cassian stepped forward.
Mana surged instantly.
A large fireball formed above his palm in a heartbeat—dense, bright, and terrifyingly stable. Heat rippled outward, forcing servants and junior mages to step back.
Cassian did not release it.
With a slow breath, he dismissed the spell, the flames dissolving cleanly into sparks.
Master Aldren nodded, clearly pleased.
"Excellent. Instant formation and perfect restraint. Releasing that would have damaged the hall."
Cassian inclined his head and stepped back, already used to praise.
"Elara."
Elara stepped forward calmly. She gathered mana patiently, shaping it with care. The fireball took longer to form, smaller than Cassian's, but steady and clean.
"Well done," Aldren said. "Consistency and control. That is how mages survive."
Elara returned to her place without comment.
"Marcus."
Marcus swallowed and stepped forward. Mana burst out unevenly as he forced it into shape. The fireball flickered violently, expanding and shrinking.
A few instructors shifted uneasily.
After several tense seconds, Marcus stabilized it—barely.
Aldren sighed. "Power without discipline is a liability. You must improve your control."
Marcus nodded stiffly and stepped back, anger burning in his eyes.
Then Aldren turned.
"Liam."
A ripple of quiet laughter moved through the hall.
Liam stepped forward anyway.
He raised his hand.
Nothing.
He strained, jaw clenched, fingers shaking. Still nothing. He couldn't even feel mana—like trying to grab smoke in a world made of air.
The silence became uncomfortable.
Finally, Aldren spoke gently, "Enough."
From the balcony above, a cold voice followed.
"Remain in your lessons," Duke Alaric said. "Failure does not excuse absence."
Liam didn't look up.
He turned and walked out.
His footsteps echoed sharply through the stone corridors.
Why force him to stand there?
Why humiliate him every morning?
He rounded a corner too fast.
Impact.
A young maid stumbled, a tray slipping from her hands.
"I—I'm sorry, my lord!" she said quickly, bowing again and again.
Liam's chest burned.
"Watch where you're going," he snapped. "Do you even know who you ran into?"
"I truly didn't mean—"
"Shut up," he said harshly. "You peasants never know your place."
The words tasted bitter even as he spoke them.
His hand moved.
The sound echoed down the hall.
The maid froze, eyes wide with tears.
Liam turned and walked away, heart pounding.
Inside his room, he slammed the door and leaned against it, breathing hard.
Why him?
Why was he born into a mage house without magic?
A knock came.
The head butler stood outside—thin, gray-haired, expression unreadable.
"Lord Liam," he said calmly. "His Grace requests your presence."
"I'll come when I come," Liam snapped. "Go."
The butler bowed and left without protest.
As Liam walked later toward his father's chambers, voices drifted from the servants' corridor.
"Did you hear?"
"He slapped a maid."
"No wonder he's powerless."
"If he had magic, imagine what he'd do."
"Thank the gods he's useless."
Anger surged.
His steps quickened—
"Stop."
Cassian's voice cut through the hall.
Cassian stood there, posture straight, hands behind his back, mana calm and controlled around him.
"Don't make life harder for the staff," Cassian said evenly. "They aren't wrong."
Liam clenched his fists.
"If you feel offended," Cassian continued, "prove them wrong with your actions. Father is waiting."
The servants watched with awe as Cassian walked away.
Liam felt smaller than ever as he walk towards his father's chambers
The duke's chamber was cold and immaculate.
Duke Alaric Valecroft stood behind his desk—tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair streaked with silver, sharp gray eyes that felt heavier than magic. His presence alone pressed down on the room.
"Why did you strike the maid?" he asked.
"She ran into me," Liam said tightly. "She didn't apologize."
Alaric's eyes hardened.
"You are powerless," the duke said. "Yet you used my authority to bully the weak."
Liam stiffened.
"If I remove you from this house," Alaric continued, "you would die within days."
Silence stretched.
"This is your final warning," the duke said. "Attend your lessons. Cause no more trouble. Or I will act."
Liam bowed stiffly and left.
The mansion looked the same.
But something inside Liam had shifted.
This house didn't just reject him—
It was waiting for him to break.