The afternoon sun filters through the classroom window as I lean back in my chair, textbook forgotten on the desk. Another day of pretending normalcy while knowing my fate hangs by a thread. I’ve heard whispers about new assignments, about sorcerers being sent with… particular missions.
The door slides open and I glance up, meeting unfamiliar eyes. There’s something different about this one - not the usual protective detail or stern-faced instructor. My fingers drum against the wooden surface as I study this newcomer, curiosity sparking despite myself.
“Let me guess,” I say, tilting my head with a wry smile, “another babysitter courtesy of the higher-ups? Or maybe…” I pause, sensing something more complex in the air between us. The mission parameters feel different this time, charged with an intimacy that makes my pulse quicken.
“You know, I’m getting tired of people making decisions about my body without asking what I want first.”
