The morning was eerily quiet. Even the birds had stopped chirping, as if nature itself was anticipating something. I was cleaning the large window at the main entrance of the academy, watching the last autumn leaves fall slowly. If only they knew I could make them return to their branches just by thinking about it.
"Leo!"
I turned to see Professor Alaric approaching with quick steps. His eyes held the familiar fear he had looked at me with since that day.
"There's... a message," he whispered, handing me a scroll of polished paper. "From Princess Seraphina. She says it's urgent."
I unrolled the scroll. The writing was elegant and sharp as a sword:
"Leo,
Things are accelerating. Prince Cassian of Luthadel arrives today, not next week. My spies inform me he carries an ancient artifact - a necklace known as the 'Ouroboros of Time.' It allegedly reveals any 'temporal anomalies.' They are looking for you.
We must act before they do.
~ S"
I raised an eyebrow. "Ouroboros of Time"? An ambitious name for a necklace that likely wouldn't work as they hoped.
"What shall we do?" Alaric whispered, his voice trembling. "If they discover..."
"Relax, Professor," I said, carefully folding the message. "Let us welcome our royal guest."
Prince Cassian's arrival was no less spectacular than Seraphina's. Where her carriage was elegant, his was heavy and armored. Where her guards were refined, his were brutal fighters with eyes searching for battle.
Cassian stood in the courtyard—undoubtedly a handsome man, but cold as frost. His blue eyes scanned the academy with obvious disdain.
"Where is he?" he asked in his cold voice, ignoring Headmaster Valerius's formal greeting.
"Who do you mean, Your Highness?" Valerius asked cautiously.
"The ghost. This being who manipulates time. We've heard the stories." Cassian turned slowly. "The Ouroboros necklace will find the truth."
From my place behind a column, I watched as he took the necklace from an ornate box. It was a golden serpent eating its tail, with emerald eyes. I felt a slight ripple in spacetime around it—a primitive device, but potentially annoying.
Seraphina's plan was simple: create a series of "accidents" that would make Cassian's stay miserable, forcing him to leave before he could use the necklace effectively. But looking at the arrogant man and his potentially destructive stance made me think of a different plan.
Why not make the necklace work... but not in the way he expected?
That night, while guards patrolled Cassian's temporary camp, I froze time. I entered his tent like a ghost and took the necklace from the table where it lay.
The necklace was actually impressive—an ancient attempt to capture time ripples. But it was like trying to measure the ocean's circumference with a small cup. With a light touch, I recalibrated it. Instead of detecting temporal anomalies, it would now reflect the wearer's inner anxiety and hidden intentions.
The next day, during the official reception, Cassian wore the necklace proudly. He was speaking with Seraphina, trying to convince her of the benefits of an alliance with his kingdom.
"Tell me, Seraphina," he said, raising his glass. "Don't you think the stability Luthadel offers..."
He suddenly stopped. His eyes widened. The necklace began to glow faintly.
"What is this?" he muttered.
Seraphina, who knew the plan, displayed a convincing expression of curiosity. "Is everything alright, Your Highness?"
Cassian began to sweat. "I feel... something strange."
With every lie he told, every exaggeration, every hidden intention, the necklace glowed brighter. Everyone was watching now, fascinated.
"It's... it's detecting dishonesty!" exclaimed one of the attending nobles.
Cassian turned pale. He tried to remove the necklace, but it seemed stuck. "This is nonsense!"
"Or does the truth hurt, Your Highness?" Seraphina asked gently.
At that moment, I decided to add my personal touch. I made the necklace's "voice" loud enough for all to hear, in a childish, honest tone: "Lie! That's a lie! You don't care about the alliance, you only want their wealth!"
The hall erupted in chaos. Cassian was desperately trying to silence the necklace, which continued to expose his every hidden motive.
From the upper balcony, where I was cleaning the chandelier, Seraphina caught my eye and sent me a subtle nod of thanks. I smiled to myself and returned to work.
But our small victory was short-lived. The next day, as a humiliated Cassian was departing, I noticed a man among his entourage—not a soldier, but a slender man in a black robe. He carried an ancient book covered in strange leather, and on its cover was an ominously familiar symbol: a serpent eating its tail, just like the necklace, but with red eyes.
The man looked at the academy, not with disdain, but with serious curiosity. Then he turned toward me for a moment. Even though I was disguised as a servant, I felt his gaze piercing through my mask.
This man was not just a follower. He was a seeker. And he knew the necklace hadn't malfunctioned—it had been manipulated.
When our eyes met, he raised his hand and made a strange gesture—two fingers raised, the others bent, in a shape resembling a scorpion.
Then he disappeared into the crowd.
This was only the beginning. The game had just become bigger than an arrogant prince. There were other players at the table, players who understood the powers of time.
And finally, things were becoming truly interesting.