Dila stood still for a second at the split of the hallways, staring at the path that led to the Mage school. She let out a slow exhale, her lips tightening into something that resembled confidence but felt hollow in her chest. "Alright… let's go," she muttered softly to herself, though her voice wavered.
Her steps began, stiff and robotic, her body moving as if every muscle had turned into stone. Her arms stayed rigid at her sides, her posture too upright, almost unnatural. It looked as though someone had wound her up and let her march like a puppet. Her eyes stayed open wide, unblinking, betraying the awkwardness that gnawed at her now that Fran wasn't beside her.
The marble floor echoed with each of her mechanical steps, perfectly even, perfectly stiff. The golden lamps lining the hallway cast their warm glow across polished floors and carved columns, but the warmth did little to ease the awkward coldness in her chest.
