The academy did not announce things when something was wrong.
It adjusted.
Schedules shifted by a few minutes. Instructors arrived earlier than usual. Guards stood where they normally didn't. Doors closed that had no business being closed.
Nobody said anything about it, which was how I knew something was off.
My friends noticed it too, though they explained it away in better moods than mine.
"Probably inspections," one of them said while poking at his breakfast like it had personally betrayed him. "End of term stuff."
"Or budget cuts," another added. "They're always counting something."
I nodded along and said nothing. That had become my specialty.
Elira had been absent for three days.
That alone wouldn't have bothered me. She had a talent for vanishing when she wanted to. But this time, it felt… intentional. Like a piece had been removed from the board on purpose.
I tried not to think about it. That never worked.
Classes went on. Lectures were dull. Practical sessions duller. Even magic theory felt drained of its usual tension, like everyone was waiting for permission to care again.
I caught myself answering questions too cleanly.
Again.
Old habits really did die screaming.
By the third day, a faculty assistant I'd never met before approached me after class. Middle-aged. Proper posture. Neutral face. The kind of person who could deliver good news and bad news with the same voice.
"You're requested," he said.
That was it. No explanation. No apology.
Requested by who was the real question, but I didn't ask. People like him only gave answers they were prepared to give.
We didn't go to an office. Or a lecture hall. Or anywhere students usually went.
We went to a wing of the academy I had only ever seen from the outside. Older stone. Less decoration. Fewer windows. The kind of place built when comfort was optional.
He knocked once, then opened the door without waiting.
Inside were three people.
One I recognized.
Elira stood near the window, arms folded, expression carefully neutral. She met my eyes for half a second, then looked away. That alone told me this wasn't her show.
The other two were strangers.
One was clearly military. Straight-backed. Scar near the jaw. Hands resting where weapons used to be.
The last man sat.
He didn't look imposing. No crown. No armor. No dramatic aura. Just clean clothes, calm eyes, and the sort of posture that suggested he had never needed to stand to be listened to.
I stopped walking.
He smiled.
Not warmly. Not coldly. Just… professionally.
"So," he said, "this is you."
I resisted the urge to look behind me.
"Yes," I said instead. "Unfortunately."
Elira coughed. The military man did not.
The seated man chuckled softly. "I like him already."
That was not reassuring.
He gestured to the chair across from him. I sat. Slowly. If this was going to ruin my life, I wanted to be comfortable for the first few seconds.
"My name is Albrecht," he said. "You may address me as Your Highness, if you like formalities. Or don't. I won't hold it against you."
Ah.
There it was.
A prince.
Of course it was a prince.
I bowed my head, just enough to be polite. Years of academy etiquette drilled that reflex into me. Internally, I sighed. Loudly.
"I hear you've been causing trouble," he continued.
"I try not to," I said. "It usually happens by accident."
That earned me a genuine laugh.
"Good answer," he said. "Honest. Efficient."
Elira shifted slightly. I caught it this time.
The prince leaned back. "Relax. This isn't an interrogation. Think of it as… a conversation."
I had lived long enough to know that when powerful people said that, it meant decisions had already been made.
"I'll be direct," he continued. "You've been noticed."
There it was again.
That word.
Not recruited. Not chosen. Not invited.
Noticed.
"You think carefully," he said. "You hesitate. You avoid conclusions until you have to make them. And when you do, you're usually right."
I said nothing.
"You also don't seek recognition," he added. "Which is rare. And inconvenient."
That one stung.
"We're in the middle of a situation," the prince went on. "One that requires… clarity. Minds that don't panic when maps stop making sense."
I glanced at Elira. She still wasn't looking at me.
"We would like to borrow you," he said.
Borrow.
Not take. Not command.
Borrow.
"For how long?" I asked.
He smiled again. "Temporarily."
I nodded. "That usually means indefinitely."
This time, Elira looked at me sharply.
The prince laughed, unoffended. "You're sharper than the reports suggested."
Reports.
Of course there were reports.
"You will return to the academy," he said calmly. "Your education remains important. This is not a removal. It's an… interruption."
I considered my options.
There were none.
"I assume refusal is theoretical," I said.
"Entirely," he replied.
We sat in silence for a moment.
Somewhere deep inside me, something old stirred. The same feeling I had right before my first collapse. The moment where life stopped asking and started assigning.
I exhaled.
"When do we leave?" I asked.
The prince's smile widened, just a little.
"Tomorrow," he said. "Pack lightly."
Elira finally spoke.
"I'll handle the arrangements."
I stood.
As I turned toward the door, one thought repeated in my head, steady and unwelcome.
So this is how it starts.
Not with destiny.
Not with prophecy.
Just a quiet knock, and someone deciding I was useful