Blind Legacy of Time

Arden sat in his room, flipping through ancient magic tomes. The letters danced before his eyes, teasing the spark within him. He read them, but lacked the courage to try yet. Was it too much for a seven-year-old to dream so big? Still, he pressed on.

On his seventh birthday, everything changed. Suddenly, his eyes burned as if embers had been shoved inside. His hands trembled, burns scarring his skin. Writhing in agony, he collapsed.

"What's happening to me?" he thought, his heart pounding as if it'd burst.

A crimson aura erupted from his body, flames bursting from his hands. It was apocalyptic wild, uncontrollable, terrifying. Arden thrashed, desperate to tame the power, but the flames refused to obey. A voice rose within him:

"Others wield magic with ease, but mine devours me."

The books never mentioned this. It was too much. After a torturous struggle, Arden barely subdued the flames, his battered body crumpling as he fainted.

In this world, magic stemmed from four elements: fire, water, earth, air. Everyone felt their element from birth, adapting to it effortlessly, wielding it without pain. By ten, they awakened their power and aimed for the magic academy's entrance exams. Arden dreamed of this too but his path was different.

In his unconsciousness, he found himself in a strange dimension. Time neither flowed nor stood still. A murmur echoed in his ears, words he couldn't grasp. Then, a red spirit rose from within him a blurry silhouette.

"The blind heir has set out with his master," it said, chilling him to the bone.

Arden jolted awake. He remembered fainting, but what was that dream? That colorless void, that red spirit, those words… Were they real, or just a nightmare? They gnawed at him, but no answers came.

He sought his father and said with resolve, "Help me. I want to control my magic."

Andre saw the fire in his son's eyes and nodded. "I'll train you for two years," he promised.

Time flowed like water. Under Andre's guidance, Arden explored his power, growing stronger each day. Yet his blind spot lingered a deadly weakness.