The carriage wheels murmured against the cobblestone road, the night outside layered in soft mist and arcane glows. Mana-lanterns hung from polished brass sconces flickered with steady, gentle light, illuminating the path back toward the residential towers that climbed like spines behind the Academy's east wing.
Inside, the carriage was crowded but not tense—still warm with the echo of conversations and tentative camaraderie spun from the social swirl of the banquet.
Elara sat near the rear window, her hand propped beneath her chin as she watched the mana fog roll past. Her shoulders were relaxed, but her eyes remained alert, flicking once toward each new voice, each shift in tone. She wasn't anxious. But she wasn't off-duty, either.
Opposite her, Selphine leaned with meticulous poise, already discussing logistical concerns with the same authority she'd used when ordering wine three hours earlier. "Block 7-A has reinforced warding. That's not by chance."
