Bartholomew cleared his throat, changing the subject. His serious bearing returned, "The recent phenomenon that occurred in Newhold…"
Michael's body tensed subconsciously, an unease creeping through his heart.
Why is he bringing this up?
Did the headmaster find out his identity?
No… That's impossible, he reasoned.
Everyone that knew of Michael Aurelius, knew he was a white-ringed mage—and the weakest of them all. Even if they suspected his identity, a quick look at his left wrist should be enough to confirm that they were different people.
After all, what happened to him was something that even he couldn't explain.
"What does it have to do with me?" Michael asked, his voice coming out higher than he had intended.
He gazed at the headmaster, looking for any subtle shifts in his expression. But it was difficult. Not only was the man adept at keeping his expression impassive, he also had a huge bushy beard covering half his face.
