Boy from Ashfall

The Grimoire—a spellbook sealed in disgrace—takes a lifetime to master. Wielding its knowledge comes at a cost. And keeping that power instead of surrendering it to the Magical Council? That’s a crime.

Is it worth holding on to power? They still talk about her—the woman who vanished from every memory. No name. No face. Only fear. To the world, she’s a myth. But we know she was real. A forbidden spell. A forbidden choice. To erase memory, to interfere with what makes us alive... If such magic ever spread through society…

I always argued with my parents. I believed people could be educated and taught to use forbidden magic responsibly. But now? At what cost? How many lives? How much time would be wasted just to guide the first pattern? For generations, we’ve been warned: never take that risk.

“Aren’t you supposed to come from Ashfall?” A group of people circled us, boots crunching gravel, robes brushing dust. Their presence snapped me out of thought. I was supposed to arrive at school for the opening ceremony. But there was an accident... on the wagon. Flying? Teleportation? You need a magic license for either. And me? Just a boy from Ashfall without one—so, wagon it is.

One of them stepped forward. The robe billowed in the wind, moving heavy with authority. As if even the street didn’t belong to us. “We need to inspect the cargo. Orders from the top.” They didn’t even look like law enforcement. “He’s not cargo. He’s a kid,” the wagon driver said. Well-equipped people close in, their gestures each prepared for something.

The argument dragged on, six minutes wasted. “He's just a kid.” “We were ordered to check every wagon from Ashfall.” They’re not backing down. Four wrapped around the wagon. Two more are locked in an argument with the driver, voices rising.

Moving from the countryside to the city was a real challenge. Mom and Dad, what are you doing under the midday sun? These people… maybe they were just doing their job, even something illegal, for their families. But they probably forgot they were wasting everyone else’s time. We lost seven minutes—eight seconds per person.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

“I think your parents already told you not to use it.”

“He killed one of your horses.” The wagon driver gave me a slight smile, just enough to reassure me he was okay. “That’s not a horse. It’s a donkey. If I had a horse, I’d evolve into Pegasus. Shame I never got to,” he said. I grabbed his hand to help him stand. “Poor bastard. If I’d known it was your last job, I would’ve treated you better.” He walked straight to Donkey and cast the spell. Old bones worn from years of pulling strangers. He didn’t deserve to die like that. In other lives, maybe he’d have jumped through fields, grazed in peace, and retired to a quiet farm. Instead, he collapsed on the road. We prayed for him. Quiet. To a god we still pray to.

“Get your stuff, kid. One donkey ain’t gonna make it in time.” The wagon driver dug the grave slowly, his spell shaping dirt with his calloused hands. I stood beside him. The donkey’s eyes were still open. I hated that. The wagon driver gave a faint smile, but his eyes were already lost in a place where hope clings to the lie that his companions aren’t dead. “I can help,” I offered. “You already have, kid. Why stop now? You’ve got school to attend.”

Is this a curse of Ashfall? He’s familiar with our family—or at least my parents told me. Seeing him wasn’t different from seeing my uncle… or the rest of my family. What we’ve been through stays with me. We never say it aloud, but we all carry that dull, unspeakable ache. What have we done to deserve this?

But as he said… I have school to attend. I took a breath and stepped forward. Someone had to know. I tore a slip of paper, scribbled a message, and let it drift into the wind. Fragile magic. But it’s all we’ve got. It’s how we communicate without teleportation.

It takes me all morning just to reach the city. I can’t wait to grow up and get my teleport license. It was supposed to be a strong start. I wanted to feel excited, but the cold made me miss home. Even the excitement I clung to… froze. Spring. Expectation. I wandered, noticing unfamiliar trees along the way. The weather was getting colder, bit by bit. Some travelers and residents wore layers of clothing, while others didn’t seem to mind. But as a tropical kid growing up here… this place is way too damn cold.

I didn’t hesitate to stop and grab my belongings. Every knitted piece my mom made is helpful today. My parents once dreamed of coming north. But the first to arrive… was their son: a parent's quiet sacrifice. I wasn’t dumb enough to overlook what they said or didn’t. One of the reasons I came here was to return their sacrifice to rebuild the forgotten corners of our land… To bring life back to Ashfall.

Through the gate. ‘Azmere: land of opportunity and home to the most powerful magic in the nation.’ That’s what the posters said. But as the wind bit through my sleeves, all I could think about was how cold I was. Great. I just hoped whatever opportunity came next would be enough to douse this feeling.

I handed the gatekeeper officer a magical ID. “Ashfall, huh… Alone, no wagon. What’s bringing you here, lad?” That look people give when they hear ‘Ashfall.’ I hate it. Sometimes, I understand why memorial spells exist in this world—sometimes, we just want to forget. “Student,” I said. “Kid alone in the capital city. Where are you gonna live?”

“I already contacted the dorm.”

“Up there?” He glanced up from my ID, then looked me in the eye.

“No. Here—Flintshore.”

“Um. Careful, kid. Let’s hope the city’s kinder to you.” His eyes filled with empathy and sadness. I wanted to speak, but I was used to it. I didn’t want to push their feelings, but it always hurts seeing that kind of care given only to people who don’t deserve it. We deserve to be treated like anyone else, but no one deserves the kind of fate we got. So I nodded and kept walking. “Next.”

From the entrance, I looked up. A spiraling structure of white stone climbed into the clouds, each layer stacked with memorials and glowing buildings. Somewhere up there, a school waits for a boy from Ashfall. A boy trying to become something the world never wanted… and something he’s still not sure he believes in.