A Fairytale In The Making

27. THE TWELVE LABORS OF AKIRA

Akira's POV 

I had thought after all these years of seeing literally everyone around me emitting blessings, I would be better at this. But after my third failed attempt at focusing, I knew that to be utterly wrong.

My frustration increased ten folds with each attempt.

Damn it, this isn't supposed to be happening.

After all those times observing father unleash his fiery gift, I should be more than better at this.

I am a Ryuuzaki. We are supposed to be best of the best.

This is humiliating! 

Another expectation I couldn't live up to.

Because who doesn't know that the limiting pillars were put in place because of my father's outburst on his first try?

To add insult to the injury, shy and quiet Cephas was able to do it before me. Albeit, he lost control and almost caused a mass jumping session, but something is better than nothing.

I started to panic when one by one all my friends got the hang of their emissions. Gunhild with her ice, Eboni with her illusions, Kishar with her hypnotism; all started to run past me in this race.

Great, now all I needed was Naeem to do it before me and I will officially never use magic anymore in my life. There was a limit to how much humiliation someone can handle.

So, I glared hard at the hilt of the sword in my hands.

Why can't I emit my blessing? What if I can't ever?

"The noble Ryuuzakis have produced Grandmasters for generations and the new heir can't even emit blessing?" said the shadowy voice in my mind, always ready to suffocate me with taunting words.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen." Another jab.

"You're nothing like your father, you would never be." The voice dripped with mocking pity.

"A warrior? There is no need to for little boys to play soldiers. The sword isn't a paint brush." It let out a slickening laugh.

The jeers, insults, and barbs cut through my mind like they always do. The sneering Lernaean hydra inside me raised its heads of insecurity again. Unlike brave Hercules, instead of cutting them off, I brought forth a new head with each failed try.

But before it grew the hundredth head of rage and took control over me, my panicked eyes fell on another pair of eyes mirroring my emotions.

Isolde, the little spitfire whom I was avoiding like I do with Eboni during her moon fever.

I wasn't doing it to hurt her. I just felt really conflicted on how to approach her. There was a chance she wouldn't want to talk to me after we had accused her.

Additionally, I wasn't so conceited as to think my absence will actually bother her. Well, not more than my presence at least.

Of course, I could've apologized but the thing is, I've never sincerely apologized to anyone before. I never had to.

And even if I do, there was always a chance of her not accepting it.

I don't want her to accept it only because I was a noble.

So I did what I always do when I come face to face with the slightest chance of failure. I avoided it.

So what will I do after I can't avoid it any more? I don't know, I don't think that far. That's far over my maturity level.