The summons came without ceremony, which made it feel more serious than any sealed notice might have.
A folded slip of parchment waited on Kael's desk when he returned from morning lecture, his name written in the clean, deliberate hand used by faculty scribes. There was no seal, no mark of urgency, yet the instruction was direct. He was to report to Instructor Marrow's office after the midday bell.
Kael read the note once, then folded it again along its original crease and slipped it into the inner pocket of his uniform coat. The action was small, but he felt the shift settle in his thoughts like a weight finding its place. Marrow did not summon students without reason, and certainly not alone. This was not routine correction or assignment clarification. This was attention narrowing.
Darian noticed his expression almost immediately as they crossed the courtyard. "That look," he said, lowering his voice slightly. "That's not about missed homework."
"Marrow," Kael replied.
Lyra slowed beside them, brow furrowing. "That could mean a dozen things," she said. "Field evaluation, skill review, deployment follow-up…"
Seraphine glanced toward the administrative tower rising beyond the inner grounds. "It means he has decided you are worth speaking to without witnesses," she said. Her tone was calm, but thoughtful in a way that suggested she understood the implications more deeply than the others.
Kael did not answer. He was still deciding whether that was reassuring.
Marrow's office was located in a quieter wing of the academy complex, where stone corridors curved inward and the air carried the faint scent of parchment, oil, and old bindings. The sounds of the courtyard faded behind thick walls, leaving only a subdued stillness that felt closer to a record hall than a place of instruction. It was the kind of environment where decisions were made that shaped futures without ever being announced.
Kael knocked once.
"Enter."
Marrow stood near the window when Kael stepped inside, hands clasped behind his back as he looked out over the academy grounds. Sunlight outlined his posture, casting his features in partial shadow and making his expression difficult to read.
"Close the door," he said.
Kael did so and remained standing where he was. Silence settled between them, not uncomfortable, but deliberate. Marrow observed him the way one might study a structure under stress, not searching for fault, but for pattern and potential.
"You adjusted the brace in practical training today," Marrow said at last.
"Yes."
"Before Lyra finished calculating. Before Darian tested the anchor."
"Yes."
Marrow gave a slight nod, as though confirming something he had already suspected. "How did you know?"
Kael had expected the question, yet the answer still felt insufficient. "It looked uneven," he said.
"That is not an explanation."
"No," Kael agreed. "It is the truth."
Marrow did not challenge him immediately. Instead, he moved to his desk and lifted a compact metal framework, more intricate than the training models. Its lattice was precise, the kind used to demonstrate how stability could appear perfect while strain gathered beneath the surface.
"Instability rarely announces itself," he said, echoing the lecture from earlier. "Most wait to see failure before acting. A few learn to recognize patterns that suggest failure may come. Fewer still trust those observations without visible proof."
His gaze returned to Kael.
"You trusted it on the border."
The memory rose clearly — the ridge, the thinning wards, the sense of pressure gathering at a point no one else seemed to notice yet.
"I did not trust it," Kael said carefully. "I could not ignore it."
Something shifted in Marrow's expression, subtle but present, like approval held deliberately in check.
"You understand the risk of acting without confirmation," he said.
"Yes."
"You also understand the risk of waiting too long."
"Yes."
Marrow set the framework back on the desk. "You are not being praised," he said. "You are being evaluated."
Kael met his gaze steadily. "Understood."
"Your presence in the field reports has been noted beyond this academy," Marrow continued. "Houses responsible for ward territories pay attention to competence where it appears, especially when that competence is unexpected."
So the rumors had already traveled further than student speculation.
"That attention," Marrow said, "will not always be neutral. Some will want to understand you. Some will want to direct your abilities toward their own priorities. A few may prefer you remain unremarkable."
Kael thought of the letter from his family, the careful warning wrapped in restraint.
"I do not intend to draw notice," he said.
"That is no longer entirely your decision," Marrow replied. His voice remained even, but the words settled with weight.
Marrow moved back toward the window, looking out over the courtyard where students crossed paths in routine ignorance of the structures that protected them. "I am not asking you to explain abilities you do not yet understand yourself," he said. "But I am instructing you to exercise restraint. Not every imbalance must be corrected by you. Not every observation must be spoken."
"I understand."
"You will be placed in advanced structural diagnostics starting next week. Do not treat that as recognition. Treat it as responsibility. You will see failures earlier than most. That knowledge carries burden as much as advantage."
Kael inclined his head. "Yes, Instructor."
Marrow studied him one final moment. "Recognition matters more than reaction," he said.
"I remember."
"Good. You may go."
The corridor outside felt cooler when Kael stepped back into it, as though the building itself carried the chill of quiet decisions. The familiar hum of the academy returned gradually, students' voices echoing from distant halls, life continuing as though nothing had shifted.
He had not been accused.
He had not been praised.
He had been marked.
When he reached the courtyard, Darian looked up from where he sat on a low wall. "Well?"
Kael paused, considering how to put it. "I have more responsibilities now," he said.
Darian studied his face, then gave a small nod. "That kind of meeting, then."
Seraphine's gaze lingered on him. "That changes things," she said softly.
Kael followed her line of sight toward the administrative tower, sunlight reflecting from its upper windows like distant signal light.
"Yes," he agreed.
"It does."