The city grew quieter as night deepened.
I took a longer route back, avoiding the busiest streets. After the canal incident, my senses felt raw—overextended. Every flicker of mana made me tense, every distortion set my thoughts racing.
[Guardian condition: Stable.]
[Memory erosion: Dormant.]
Dormant wasn't gone.
Just waiting.
I paused beneath a streetlamp near a small square and leaned against the stone railing, letting the light steady me.
That's when I felt it.
A focused scan.
Clean. Precise. Professional.
Not forgotten magic.
Human magic.
I straightened instantly.
Three figures approached from the far end of the square, robes marked with silver thread and geometric insignia. Mages—but not guild mages. Their posture was disciplined, their mana signatures controlled.
Academy mages.
The middle-aged man at the front stopped a few steps away and inclined his head politely.
"Adventurer Echo," he said. "Please don't be alarmed."
Too late.
"How do you know my name?" I asked calmly.
"Guild records," he replied. "We monitor unusual mana events within the city."
So they'd noticed the canal disturbance.
"Allow me to introduce myself," he continued. "I am Professor Halven, adjunct instructor of magical theory at the Royal Arcane Academy."
The name meant something—even through my foreign memories.
A serious institution.
One that erased inconvenient knowledge.
I kept my expression neutral. "What do you want?"
Halven studied me closely. Not greedily. Not suspiciously.
Curiously.
"We detected a form of magic during the canal incident that does not conform to known schools," he said. "Yet the damage was contained rather than amplified."
He smiled faintly. "That's rare."
I said nothing.
"The Academy is hosting an upcoming assessment," he continued. "We would like you to participate."
An invitation.
And a trap.
"Assessment for what?" I asked.
"Special enrollment," he replied. "Or, at the very least, observation."
My chest tightened.
The Academy was the worst possible place for a Guardian.
Too many experts. Too many detection arrays. Too much history.
"I'm not a student," I said flatly.
"Nor were many of our finest researchers when they were invited," Halven replied smoothly. "The Academy values… unconventional talent."
I almost laughed.
Unconventional. That was one word for it.
[Notice.]
[High-risk environment detected.]
The system's warning echoed in my mind.
Refusing outright would raise suspicion.
Accepting meant walking into the lion's den.
I weighed the options quickly.
The hollow Guardian had acted alone.
Too alone.
If the Academy was studying forgotten magic—and they were—then being on the inside might be safer than being hunted from the outside.
"I'll attend the assessment," I said slowly. "As an observer."
Halven's smile widened slightly. "Of course."
He handed me a thin crystal plaque etched with sigils.
"Tomorrow at dawn," he said. "West Spire. Present this at the gate."
The three mages turned and walked away, their presence fading smoothly into the background of the city.
I stared at the plaque in my hand.
It felt harmless.
Which made it dangerous.
[New Arc Initiated.]
[Magic Academy Arc — Entry Point.]
I slipped the plaque into my robe.
"So this is the next line," I murmured. "One I have to walk carefully."
The Academy didn't just teach magic.
It cataloged it.
And if they ever cataloged me—
There would be no forgetting left to protect me.
I resumed walking, eyes forward.
Tomorrow, I would step into a place built on recorded knowledge.
And I would have to survive without becoming an entry in its archives.
Because some things—
Some spells—
Were never meant to be remembered.