Professor Emberheart led me through the winding corridors without a word. The silence was suffocating—plenty of time for me to rehearse excuses that sounded increasingly ridiculous in my head.

  How do I explain accidentally beating an A-rank student?

  No matter how much I tried, nothing came to mind that didn't make me sound either insane or suspicious.

  Students pressed themselves against the walls as we passed, their whispers following in our wake like a physical presence. I caught fragments—"unranked," "destroyed her." Each word was another nail in the coffin of my anonymity.

  After what felt like hours of climbing spiral staircases and passing through empty hallways, we arrived at an ornate oak door.

  His study was surprisingly spacious, yet somehow it still felt crowded. Magical tools cluttered every surface—crystalline orbs that pulsed with faint light, stacks of leather-bound tomes threatening to topple, loose parchments covered in runic diagrams.

  The chaos was almost artistic, except for his desk, which remained organized, as if protected by an invisible barrier against the surrounding disorder.

  He closed the door behind us with a soft click, and the candles around the room began to light one by one, as if commanded to do so by his mere presence.

  From one of the cluttered tables, he retrieved what appeared to be a ceramic pot of cold tea and poured it into a delicate cup before offering it to me with both hands—a gesture of respect I hadn't expected.

  "I trust you had plenty of time to think of an excuse," he began, settling into the chair behind his desk after I took the tea. His expression wasn't angry—it was understanding, almost sympathetic, which somehow made it worse. "But I'll ask you to hear me out before you say it."

  I nodded, my throat suddenly dry. As I went to take a sip, I noticed the tea was now hot—steaming, actually—like it had just been freshly brewed. I tried to discreetly search for runes or enchantments on the cup, tilting it slightly to catch the light. Nothing. Not even the faintest trace of magic.

  How did he do that?

  "Whatever reason you have for hiding your power, the path you're taking will not bring you less attention." He folded his hands on the desk, his amber eyes fixed on mine. "An unranked student with your level of ability is bound to draw eyes. Many eyes."

  "I know..." I agreed, staring down at my hands wrapped around the warm cup. My voice came out smaller than I intended.

  He wasn't wrong. Two days. I'd been at this academy for two days and already drawn more attention than most A-rank students manage in a year.

  "You don't need to tell me how you did what you did," he continued, his tone gentle but firm. "But I do want to offer you the opportunity to do so." His gaze didn't waver, and I felt the weight of genuine concern behind it.

  "I..." The words caught in my throat. What could I possibly say? What should I say?

  He read my hesitation like an open book. "Then let us start with an easier question: Why hide?"

  "Safety, I guess." The words came out as barely more than a mutter. It was only part of the reason, but truthful enough to not make me feel like a complete liar.

  Professor Emberheart let out a soft, warm laugh—the kind that made the tension in my shoulders ease just slightly. "I'm all too familiar with that feeling. I, too, was born with unique power. It can feel terrifying to be a target all the time."

  His expression softened further, a hint of old memories flickering across his face. "But I had my family to care for me, to protect me until I was ready to stand on my own." He paused, studying my face. "I assume you have no one?"

  "No." This time, the honesty came easily. I was completely alone in this world. No family. No friends. Just me and secrets I couldn't share.

  "Then I can see why hiding might feel like your only option." He uncrossed his arms and leaned back against his desk, his posture less formal now. "Where did you learn magic then? Did you have an instructor?"

  "I actually never learned magic," I admitted, shame creeping into my voice. "I'm quite bad at it, actually. Can't even cast simple spells properly."

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  His eyebrows rose slightly. "And yet you had the capacity to win that duel without a scratch. Against her, no less."

  I hesitated. And he took it as an opportunity to explain.

  "The girl you defeated..." Professor Emberheart's expression grew more serious. "She's betrothed to the Prince. Her family bloodline is as ancient as his. She wasn't just an A-rank student, Kai. She was one of the strongest students in the entire academy."

  My stomach dropped. "That bad, huh?"

  "Probably worse." He let out a long sigh. "The prince will now see you as a threat for humiliating his future bride. And the rest of the academy..." He gestured vaguely. "They'll know you're hiding something significant. Whispers spread like wildfire in these halls."

  "So I guess hiding isn't an option anymore..." I thought aloud, preparing myself for the worst-case scenarios already playing out in my head.

  "As a weak, unranked student? No, no one will believe that anymore." He stood up straighter, crossing his arms again. "But I can help you lessen the impact. Give you a story people will accept."

  "And you would do that if I told you the truth?" I asked, suspicious despite myself. Nothing in life came free, especially not help from powerful professors.

  "You don't need to tell me everything," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "But it would make things easier. And you might find that having someone you can confide in makes things far less frightening."

  I stood there, weighing my options. Trust was a luxury I couldn't usually afford. But what choice did I have now?

  "Okay..." I took a breath, making my decision. "My magic... it can do anything I want it to."

  If only it were that simple.

  The explanation was close enough to the truth to be believable, though even as the words left my mouth, I could tell he wasn't entirely convinced. His eyes searched my face, looking for the pieces I'd left out.

  "That is a remarkable talent," he said finally, his tone carefully neutral. "I know that isn't the whole truth, but..." He smiled slightly. "Trust comes in time. For now, I want to offer you something: mentorship."

  "What?" I blinked, certain I'd misheard.

  "Your talent is extraordinary, but raw talent alone won't be enough to survive here—not with the attention you've drawn." He moved around the desk, standing before me with purpose. "I can teach you proper magic theory, control techniques, spell construction. You could pass as a student with remarkable raw power but no formal training. It would explain your unranked status in a way most people would accept."

  "You would do that?" A slight smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it. I hadn't realized just how crushing the loneliness had been until this moment, until someone actually offered to help.

  "Of course. But first..." His expression grew serious again, his amber eyes intense. "I need to know a few things. What do you plan to do with this power of yours once you graduate from the Academy?"

  I paused, considering the question with genuine care. It was more than a casual inquiry—it was a test of character.

  "I think I want to finally live a good life," I said honestly. The words felt surprisingly refreshing to say aloud. "Just... a normal, peaceful life."

  After I keep a few promises, anyway.

  "I see..." He studied me for a long moment. "Quite a modest goal for someone with so much power. You don't seek more? Political influence? A position of authority? The power to reshape the kingdom?"

  "No. That sounds exhausting..." I responded, genuinely horrified by the thought. "Can you imagine the paperwork alone?"

  A smile broke across Professor Emberheart's face—the first real one I'd seen from him. "Very well then. I will help you, Kai."

  "Thank you," I said, and I truly meant it.

  "I'll be adjusting your schedule starting tomorrow. Private lessons, three times a week." He moved toward the door, opening it with a gesture. "If anyone asks, what happened today was an accident—a surge of uncontrolled power. I'm now helping you learn proper control. That's the story. Stick to it."

  "Alright." I said, walking towards the exit. “Thank you again” I said as I left.

  “Thank you for trusting me.” He responded, closing the door.

  As I made my way through the corridors to my next class I couldn’t help but feel scared.

  Professor Emberheart seemed trustworthy—everything about him screamed honorable, kind, protective. But was this the correct path? Couldn't he have some hidden agenda, especially after seeing my power? What if this was all an elaborate setup to get me to lower my guard?

  But could I really afford to be this skeptical of everything and everyone? Would I just waste the rest of my life doubting every extended hand, seeing threats in every kind gesture? Would I push away every person who tried to help?

  Is this the life I want to live?

  The question haunted me, following me like a shadow, making me doubt every decision I'd made since arriving at this academy.

  Three months ago it had felt so simple. Enter the academy, learn magic, use it to keep my promises, then go live my new life however I wanted. Freedom. Peace. Maybe even happiness.

  Now it felt like the hardest thing I'd ever attempted—like trying to navigate a minefield blindfolded while everyone watched and waited for me to make a fatal mistake.

  A group of students passed by, their conversation stopping abruptly as they noticed me. They stared, then quickly looked away, whispering urgently to each other as they hurried off.

  Yeah, anonymity is definitely dead.

  I sighed and kept walking, wondering what fresh hell tomorrow's "private lessons" would bring.

  At least I wouldn't be facing it completely alone anymore.

  That had to count for something.