Chapter 4

Jay stood alone on the deserted rooftop as the clock tower chimed midnight, the sole sound echoing in the darkness. At the twelfth resonant peal, a silent figure materialized from the shadows behind him and swiftly dropped to one knee.

"Greetings, First Prince," the man intoned respectfully, head bowed. His features were obscured beneath a dark hood, though Jay instantly recognized the voice of his former mentor, Nathair.

"Rise, old friend," Jay replied, tone shifting to hold the unmistakable ring of authority rather than his usual lighthearted candor. "I am most curious why you risked sending word through Talon instead of your conventional channels."

Nathair stood smoothly, pushing back his cowl to reveal weathered features and ice blue eyes glinting with amusement. "Consider it merely some harmless mischief between one time master and pupil within the Brotherhood," he explained with an easy grin.

Jay arched one brow, unimpressed by the dismissive description. "Most would not view contacting the kingdom's top royal assassin as trivial fun."

Nathair chuckled, unabashed. As Jay's predecessor leading the crown's covert operations, he had been dubbed the greatest killer in the land at his peak. Though technically retired now, none would dare still cross his formidable talents.

"So what urgent matter requires my attention that you could not handle yourself, old snake?" Jay asked pointedly. If Nathair was reaching out after years of silence. Nathair's usual smirk was replaced by a grim expression. "Your Highness, the time has come to abandon this charade and seize your rightful destiny. While the odds favor your youngest brother Edward taking the throne, his rule is not yet guaranteed."

He paced the shadowed battlements, moonlight glinting off his leather armor. "Potential political rivals lie in wait, reluctant to reveal themselves while your survival remains unconfirmed. If the uncertainty continues, instability will only fester."

Jay listened silently before replying. "I have not forgotten my royal father's counsel. He told me that safeguarding the people should override holding power in and of itself."

Turning to meet his mentor's eyes, Jay continued: "The first lesson he taught was that protecting this kingdom may be achieved through openly wearing the crown...or anonymously wielding a blade from the darkness. One path is not intrinsically nobler than the other."

Nathair bowed his head in acknowledgement. "A wisdom I also imparted during your training, my prince. But you cannot guard this realm forever if hostile forces continue to spread unchecked. Eventually you must stand as a lion, not a shadow."

He gripped Jay's shoulder with calloused fingers. "I have served your family faithfully for decades. Heed me now when I say the people yearn for stability and strength such as only you can provide. The throne is your ordained purpose."

Jay frowned, gazing out at the shadowed campus grounds visible from their high vantage. "You believe my brother Edward incapable of becoming a reasonable monarch?"

Nathair chose his next words carefully. "He shows little aptitude so far for the nuance required, still being rather...hot tempered and entitled in his youth," he said diplomatically. "If his shortcomings drive deep unrest among the aristocracy and commoners alike, it may fall to you after all to take up the crown, willing or not."

Jay listened intently to his mentor's urgent pleas to openly claim the throne. Nathair made compelling arguments that the kingdom teetered on the brink, requiring his leadership.

Yet as the spymaster fell silent, awaiting the prince's response, Jay simply shook his head with a bittersweet smile.

"You know I cannot do as you ask, my old friend," he said quietly. "Not after that bloody night years ago. After hiding all this time, I will not risk exposing myself now."

Jay moved to the battlement edge, gazing out at the shadowed academy grounds that had become his home. "Maybe Edward will rise to the occasion and become a decent ruler...or maybe not. But either way, my fate is to remain here to the end, living and dying in obscurity."

He turned back to face his mentor. "As for making a play for the crown myself..." Jay sighed. "I must leave politics and power to those born for it." Nathair looked sorely ready to argue further, but seemed to recognize the finality in Jay's tone. In the end, he simply clasped Jay's shoulder tightly.

"No one can compel a course you do not embrace with an open heart," the grizzled master assassin conceded gruffly. "We shall speak more another time. Guard yourself well, my prince." With a swirl of his cloak, the spymaster slipped down from the ramparts and vanished into the night.

As Nathair disappeared silently into the darkness, Jay found himself looking forward to the return of normalcy come sunrise. His mentor meant well, but the cloak and dagger drama made him weary.

Jay descended to his dormitory for some well deserved rest. And just like that, time flowed on steadily. The days melted into weeks soaked in scholarly pursuits and arduous training under the tutelage of the Royal academy's esteemed faculty.

Jay's classes spanned a wide range of studies making for diverse but intense study. Ancient languages and spellcasting rituals met one day, followed by hands-on enchanting items the next. Later came lessons focused on shape-shifting abilities and Transmutation. And weekends were dedicated to self-directed projects, like Jay and Zal's ongoing attempts to merge two creatures into a hybrid familiar.

The rigorous curriculum kept Jay too preoccupied to dwell on past or future. He filled journals with his notes, healed singed eyebrows from volatile elixirs, and collapsed nightly into dreamless exhaustion. For now, the studious rituals of schooling pushed regrets and responsibilities out of mind, narrowing his world pleasantly to learning alongside trusted friends.

Rothard strode to the front of the candlelit laboratory, his dark robes billowing. "Today we shall attempt a potent Mind Blank elixir. When brewed correctly, a thimbleful dulls the drinker's cognitive facilities for up to a day."

He began scrawling ingredients in spiky lettering onto the blackboard with chalk. "You'll need: 3 Rain Hyssop Sprinkles, 5 tablespoons Brown Sage, 2 handfuls Yellow Blossom, 1 batch Ruby Herb, and 4 teaspoons Stinky Shiso."

Rothard turned to the students. "Do your best to follow precisely. However, substitutes are acceptable if needed."

Jay raised his hand tentatively. "Sir, could you please demonstrate the full process before we begin?"

"An excellent suggestion, my boy!" Rothard grabbed a mortar and pestle from the front table. "First, crush the Rain Hyssop until it's a rough paste. Just power through if your hands start bleeding."

Zal gulped audibly across the room, appearing slightly green.

"Next, add enough purified water to dissolve the leaves, then mix in all the Brown Sage at once," Rothard continued, deftly combining the ingredients. "A stove works to heat the mixture, but I find a nice cuddle lends additional potency."

The students exchanged puzzled glances as Rothard tended the gently bubbling concoction.

"Cool completely until the color changes to violet. Then add both the Yellow Blossom and Ruby Herb simultaneously, with exceeding care." Rothard gently stirred the petals and crystals in.

"Quickly bring to a boil before introducing the Stinky Shiso. My preference is to let the completed elixir rest overnight, but if you simply can't wait, it will suffice minimally effective after only five minutes."

Finally, Rothard lifted the bubbling brew from the flames and gave it several sharp stirs with a dagger. "Whisking by blade lends a delightfully lethal aesthetic. Then simply administer one small sip to your chosen target...or indulge in a larger draught yourself for a truly entertaining stupor!"

With that, Rothard stepped back, eliciting some tentative chuckles. "Now, let's see your own attempts, pupils!"

The students all glanced at each other in surprise as Rothard's lecture was so abruptly interrupted by his aide entering to murmur something privately.

Straightening up, Rothard swiftly addressed the class. "Apologies pupils, but the headmaster requests everyone assemble in the main hall presently to share an announcement."

Some curious murmuring broke out amongst the students as they began packing up their equipment.

As Rothard swept toward the heavy oak door, he called over one shoulder, "Leave your belongings for now, we may return shortly." The students shuffled into the clogged corridors, speculating what news warranted this impromptu assembly.

Jay turned to Zal as they merged into the bustling foot traffic. "Interesting change of pace, wonder what the headmaster wants to announce?"

"No clue, maybe plans for an upcoming campus event?" Zal mused.

Together the two friends quickened their pace, motivated mostly by everyone else's momentum to get to the hall faster. While unexpected, a diversion from lessons was always intriguing. Hopefully this surprise gathering would prove informative rather than burdensome.

Together Jay and Zal hurried along into the spacious main hall where hundreds of students and faculty had already gathered, abuzz with anticipation.

"Doesn't look like anything alarming," Jay remarked to his friend, not seeing any signs of emergency or dread in the crowd's demeanor, only lively curiosity.

Just then, a tall figure in flowing purple and gold robes strode onto the raised dais at the front. Despite white streaking his otherwise coal black hair, Headmaster Royce remained a strikingly youthful man, his intense sapphire eyes bright with robust energy.

It was easy to forget the charismatic administrator was over a century old due to his animated wit and unwillingness to slow down in old age. In fact, Royce had overhauled much of the academy's pedagogy through ambitious updates since taking the helm.