I clutched a yellowish sheet of paper in my hands and laughed. An owl had brought me a letter! A real one! In our world of messengers and email, wizards still prefer to use birds. Such folly! It would have been better if they used pigeons, at least those don’t draw attention. And then, they finally decided to inform me that I am a mage. Me! The Guardian of Secret Knowledge! I might be the most powerful sorcerer of the past decade, yet they invite me to a school!
Opening the window, I let in the fresh air and looked outside. Silence and peace. As always. The windows of my five-story building overlooked an old overgrown park. Few people ever walked there, fearing ticks, stray dogs, or maniacs. The wind gently swayed the mighty branches of an ancient oak tree, towering amidst the unkempt undergrowth. How old might it be? Surely no less than three hundred years. With each year, it grows bigger, stronger. Yet here I am, seemingly starting to weaken. Otherwise, how could a local group of mages sense me, find me? Or perhaps it’s fate? A sign that I should find a successor? Nonsense. I’m in the prime of my life! Nevertheless, they’ve somehow discovered me, and I decidedly don’t like it.
I closed my eyes and focused. The house was still shrouded in a network of magical weavings, securely hiding me from the outside world. A beautiful pattern of shimmering lines enveloped the building in a thin web, invisible to the naked eye, but the glow was clearly dimmer. The energy supply from the source had weakened. But why?
Opening my eyes, I turned around, walked to the peeling cupboard, and pulled out a tattered world map. On the old faded paper, glowing lines began to appear over the continents, intersecting in a chaotic manner.
– This can’t be… – I breathed in surprise.
For the first time in my life, I saw something like this. The ley lines had shifted their historical location, intertwining into an unfamiliar, unusual pattern. And these changes were clearly not for the better. The scale of the impending, dare I say, catastrophe was hard for me to even imagine. My gaze returned to the crumpled letter brought by the owl. Well, nothing happens by chance, and if fate leads me to the academy of magic, so be it.
The sun had already set below the horizon, plunging the small provincial town into gentle twilight. In the week since receiving the letter from the academy, I had to do colossal work. I handed over all my duties to fellow Guardians, checked the safety of the artifacts under my control hidden around the world, and arranged for a few months’ leave with my superiors. Only a couple of trifles remained before heading to school: buying school supplies and changing my appearance. While the first task posed no problems, as all items on the attached list would be delivered directly to the academy, changing my appearance would require more effort. Approaching the mirror, I paused for a moment, staring at the reflection. A tall man with regular features, a neat beard, and nondescript gray eyes. A typical Guardian. Sighing, I ran my hand over my stomach, where a six-pack was once visible. Once this is all over, I need to hit the gym again; I’ve completely lost shape.
Having admired my reflection enough and acquiring a few new complexes, I pondered. Spells for changing appearance are quite complex and energy-consuming. Moreover, they’re rather pointless. The simplest anti-illusion charms can shatter any level of deception. However, this rule only applies to ordinary mages, unable to discern the true essence of things. Closing my eyes, I focused on weaving a delicate web of energy strands, tightly enveloping my body. A basic connection to the internal magical core was all it took. No artifacts or enchantments could break through this sealed illusion. And why doesn’t everyone do this?
Opening my eyes, I peered intently into my reflection. There, on the other side of the mirror, a seventeen-year-old boy gazed back. Average in height, with a thick mane of chestnut hair and striking green eyes. The rest of his face was nondescript, unremarkable, just as I had imagined.
***
At the train platform, people milled about, stumbling underfoot and being frankly irritating. Why must the journey to school necessarily be by train? Such a ridiculous tradition! At least I didn’t have to run into a wall.
The school train was, to put it mildly, unremarkable. A standard suburban electric train. What else could one expect from Russian Railways? Securing a vacant seat in the middle of the carriage and leaning back, I promptly fell asleep. My ability to sleep anywhere, under any conditions, I consider the most valuable of my magical arsenal. It saved my life more than once during my student years, letting me rest peacefully amidst endless senior parties in the adjacent dorm room.
I was awakened by loud conversations. Surprisingly, I found myself already lying on a soft, rather wide bed. But then again, what’s so surprising about that? We are, after all, in a magic academy. They must have transported us somehow. Thankfully, they didn’t change my clothes in my sleep.
