Juan awoke with a splitting headache, the taste of cheap alcohol still clinging to his tongue. His fingers instinctively searched his pockets, but they were as empty as his stomach. It took him a few moments to remember why. The gambling den. The bets. The laughter that turned to jeers when the dice refused to land in his favor.

  And now he owed money. A lot of it.

  The steampunk city was nothing like the world he knew. Great brass towers stretched into the sky, their gears and pistons groaning as massive steam vents hissed into the air. Airships floated overhead, casting long shadows over cobblestone streets. Strange machines walked alongside people, clicking and whirring, while electric lamps bathed the roads in artificial light. And here he was, stranded with no armor, no money, and no allies.

  His stomach growled as he staggered onto the street. He needed a plan

  Juan wandered through the bustling streets, doing his best to blend in. It was strange how people here dressed, half of them wore elegant coats and monocles, while the rest were draped in soot-stained rags. The contrast reminded him of home, of Spain's noble courts and the starving peasants who served them.

  But there was no time for nostalgia. He needed work, and quickly. He approached a merchant selling exotic fruits, attempting to charm his way into a free meal.

  "Se?or, you see, I am a most unfortunate man, lost and without coin. But! If you give me just one of these delicious-"

  "Scram." The vendor shoved him away with a sneer.

  Juan sighed and continued walking. Maybe there was another way to make money.

  A blacksmith's forge caught his attention. He had never worked with metal, but labor was labor. He stepped inside, breathing in the scent of burning coal. A burly man with goggles perched on his forehead was hammering away at a glowing piece of metal.

  "You hiring?" Juan asked, hopeful.

  The blacksmith barely spared him a glance. "Know how to work steel?"

  "Well, no. But I learn quick, amigo."

  "Not quick enough." The blacksmith pointed to the door. "Out."

  Juan clenched his fists but obeyed. This world was proving as unforgiving as the last.

  The sun was beginning to set when he heard shouting. A crowd had gathered near the plaza, murmuring in excitement. Juan pushed his way forward, curiosity overcoming his hunger. And then, he saw him.

  A man stood at the center of the square, clad in shining gold armor. His stance was regal, his expression unreadable. He raised his hand, and suddenly, beams of golden light shot from his palm and fingers, streaking through the air like bolts of lightning. The gathered onlookers gasped as the light bent and swirled, forming intricate patterns in the air before fading into nothingness.

  Juan's breath caught.

  Magic.

  He had seen strange things in his life, but nothing like this. Not even the myths of his homeland spoke of men wielding light like a weapon, as if the very sun obeyed their command.

  His heart pounded. He had always relied on luck, on charm, on wit. But this? This was something beyond mere tricks and chance. This was power.

  The armored man lowered his hands, and the glow faded. Without a word, he turned and disappeared down an alleyway. The crowd dispersed, murmuring in awe, but Juan remained frozen. A desire he had never known before began to take root within him.

  He wanted to learn magic.

  The realization of how lost he was hit him harder than before. He was in a foreign world, alone, penniless, desperate. For the first time since arriving, his thoughts drifted homeward.

  Maria.

  He had spent so much time resenting the life he had been forced into that he never truly appreciated what he had. A wife who had been patient with him. A son whose name he never gave. A family, a home, things he had taken for granted.

  And now, they were gone. He would never see Maria's weary smile again, never hear her scolding him for coming home late, never have another chance to be the man she had hoped he would become.

  A lump formed in his throat. He had laughed in the face of responsibility, and now he had none. No home, no family, not even a place in this world.

  For the first time in his life, Juan Castillo Fabronas felt truly, utterly alone.

  His moment of reflection was cut short by the heavy thud of footsteps behind him. Deep, rumbling voices carried through the street, and a chill ran down Juan's spine.

  "They said he was seen around here," a gruff voice muttered.

  Juan turned his head just enough to see them, three men, dressed in the dark garb of the gambling den, pushing through the crowd. But what made his stomach drop was the figure leading them.

  An orc. And not just any orc. A monstrous brute, standing at least nine feet tall, his muscles bulging beneath a ragged vest. His greenish-gray skin was scarred from countless fights, and his tusks jutted out from beneath his snarling lips. He carried a massive club slung over his shoulder, the kind that could turn a man's bones to dust with a single swing.

  Juan's heart pounded. This was bad.

  "Find him," the orc growled, his deep voice making the very ground seem to vibrate. "The boss don't like it when people run from their debts."

  Juan ducked his head and quickened his pace. He needed to get out of sight, fast.

  He turned into a narrow alleyway, pressing himself against the cold brick wall. He held his breath as the footsteps neared. The orc's shadow loomed over the alley entrance for a moment before he grunted and moved on.

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  Juan exhaled, his hands shaking. He couldn't stay in one place for long. The city didn't care about his struggles. The world moved on, indifferent to the fate of one unlucky gambler.

  But magic...

  His eyes opened. He didn't know how, and he didn't know where, but he was going to find a way to learn it. He wasn't a soldier, not truly. He wasn't a craftsman, or a merchant, or anything else that could make an honest living. But if he could control light the way that armored man had...

  Maybe, just maybe, he could carve a place for himself in this world after all.

  For the first time since waking up in this strange land, Juan had a goal. And he would do whatever it took to achieve it.

  Juan Castillo Fabronas sprinted through the dimly lit streets, his heart pounding in his chest. The orc and his goons were still searching for him, and he knew he couldn't stay hidden forever. He needed a way out. More than that, he needed power.

  And he had seen it, witnessed it firsthand in the plaza. The armored magus, the man who wielded light itself as if it bent to his will. Juan had no idea how magic worked, but if it could grant him the strength to survive in this unforgiving world, he was willing to do anything to learn it.

  His breath came in ragged gasps as he reached the outskirts of the city, where the streets grew quieter and the crowds thinned. He spotted a familiar figure in the distance, walking with an air of absolute confidence. The magus.

  Juan hesitated for only a moment before dashing forward. "Se?or! Wait! Por favor!"

  The armored figure stopped, turning slightly. Now that Juan was closer, he could see more details, the man's golden armor bore intricate engravings, glowing faintly with residual energy. His golden eyes, sharp and piercing, locked onto Juan with a mixture of curiosity and mild annoyance.

  "Have we met before?" the magus said. His voice was deep and controlled, devoid of emotion.

  Juan stumbled to a stop in front of him, panting. "You must teach me! Please! I saw what you did, those beams of light, that power! I need it. I-I will do whatever it takes."

  The magus remained silent, his gaze unwavering. Juan swallowed hard and took a step closer.

  "Look at me! I have nothing! No gold, no home, no armor, no friends! The only thing I ever had was luck, and that has abandoned me! If I don't find power, I am as good as dead!" He gestured wildly. "But you! You control magic! If I could do that, I could-"

  The magus raised a hand, and Juan immediately fell silent.

  "Oh, you want to learn magic? Fantastic! Shall I also teach you how to juggle dragons while we're at it?"

  "Magic is not a trick for the desperate," the man said, his tone calm but firm. "It is not something one begs for. It is a force that demands understanding, discipline, and patience. You have none of these."

  Juan clenched his fists. "Then I will learn. Just give me a chance."

  The magus exhaled slowly. "Fine. I'll give you a chance but if you end up setting yourself on fire, don't come crying to me... unless you're still flammable, this path is not one of comfort or ease. It will break you before it makes you stronger."

  Juan grinned. "Se?or, I have already been broken. Now I want to be reforged."

  The magus led Juan deep into the city, past towering brass structures and steam-powered machines that hummed with energy. Juan had never seen a place like this, pipes hissed with steam, and mechanical constructs moved with clockwork precision. The scent of oil and metal filled the air, contrasting with the faint scent of burning coal. Massive gears turned high above on colossal structures, their purpose unknown to him. The city itself felt alive, as if powered by some unseen force, something beyond mere technology.

  They eventually arrived at a secluded courtyard, where the magus turned to face Juan once more. The cobblestone ground was cracked, and old training dummies stood in disrepair. This place had seen battle.

  "Tell me, what do you know of magic?"

  Juan blinked. "Nothing."

  "Good. Then you have no false knowledge to unlearn. Magic is not about desire. It is about understanding one's own existence and reaching beyond it."

  Juan barely had time to register the magus's words before the man suddenly struck him.

  A flash of light, faster than thought, and a force slammed into Juan's chest, sending him sprawling onto the cobblestone. He gasped, coughing, the air knocked from his lungs. He groaned and tried to push himself up. "What the hell?!"

  The magus stood over him, unimpressed. "You wish to learn magic? Then defend yourself."

  Juan barely had time to process the words before another strike came, a concentrated blast of light aimed straight at him. His instincts screamed. His body tensed.

  And something inside him snapped.

  A glowing shimmer erupted around him just before the blast hit. The energy dispersed, scattering into harmless sparks. Juan blinked, staring at the translucent, glowing barrier surrounding him. It flickered, crackled with raw energy, then stabilized.

  The magus tilted his head slightly. "Interesting."

  Juan gasped for breath. His hands trembled. "What... what is this?"

  "Your first spell," the magus said simply. "You have awakened magic. But your first spell... is a shield."

  Juan scowled. "A shield? That's it? No fire? No lightning? No deadly beams of energy?"

  The magus chuckled softly. "Magic is shaped by the soul. A man's first spell is a reflection of his truest self. And yours... is a shield."

  Juan groaned. "This is ridiculous! I wanted power, not some cowardly defense!"

  "And yet," the magus said, stepping forward, "this 'cowardly defense' is already stronger than most spells I have seen. Your mana flows through it with unnatural intensity. It is not merely a shield, it is an unbreakable force."

  Juan hesitated. He looked at his hands, at the shimmering barrier that still crackled with golden energy. The more he examined it, the more he realized... it did feel strong. Solid. Powerful.

  A slow grin spread across his face. "Then perhaps... I am simply that powerful."

  Days passed, and Juan trained under the magus. His shield magic, though defensive, proved to be far more potent than he had initially believed. He could block attacks, push enemies back, and even reflect projectiles with ease. The magus forced him through grueling exercises, forcing him to maintain his barrier under harsh conditions, against storm spells, against fire spells, against overwhelming force. Juan endured it all, his arrogance growing with every success.

  "I must say," Juan mused one day as they sparred, "I think I was born for greatness. Not only do I wield magic, but I wield it better than most. Perhaps I was meant to be some grand sorcerer."

  The magus sighed. "Humility, Juan."

  Juan waved a hand dismissively. "Bah! I spent too long as a nobody. No more. This world will know my name. Juan Castillo Fabronas, the greatest mage it has ever seen!"

  The magus merely watched him, unreadable. Then, at last, he spoke.

  "Since you are so certain of your own greatness, you may as well know my name." He removed his helmet, revealing sharp features, short golden hair, and those long ears.

  Frankfield Lightspawn stood before Juan, his blue eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light. With a composed yet firm voice, he spoke, "I am Frankfield Lightspawn, a Sun Elf, though some call us Solar Elves. My skin bears the hue of the sun's first light, my hair is spun from its golden rays, and my eyes hold the endless sky."

  Juan blinked at him, still catching his breath. "A... Sun Elf? Never heard of that."

  Frankfield gave a knowing smirk. "Few have. My people hail from Glux'n, the land of my clan, the Lightspawn. Pure blooded ones like me are rare, and we are masters of light magic and the sacred craft of Solarite, metal kissed by both gold and silver. Our kind live for three centuries, yet our name is seldom whispered beyond our lands."

  Juan scratched his head. "Wait, so you're, what, some kinda immortal wizard? That's crazy."

  Frankfield chuckled. "Not immortal, merely gifted with time and light. Now tell me, Juan, do you seek more knowledge, or do you fear it?, And if you truly wish to follow this path... you have much more to learn."

  Juan hesitated, feeling the weight of the question. "I... I want to learn more."

  Juan's arrogance faltered, if only for a moment.

  Juan swallowed. Maybe, just maybe, he had bitten off more than he could chew.

  But then again, he had never let that stop him before.

  He grinned. "Then teach me, Maestro Lightspawn. I am ready."

  Frankfield simply turned and walked away. "We shall see."

  And with that, Juan Castillo Fabronas took his first steps toward mastering magic and sealing his fate.