The heavy oak door of Magister Valerius's classroom swung shut behind Liam with a finality that echoed in the marrow of his bones. It was the sound of a gate closing, locking him out of the warm, intellectually stimulating world of runes and mana flow that Leo so effortlessly inhabited. The corridor outside was a stark contrast—a cold, roaring torrent of sound and motion that immediately assaulted his senses. He stood frozen for a moment, a statue of despair amidst the river of chattering, rustling students, his mind still trapped in the classroom, feeling the phantom, soul-deep chill of the frosted rune on his fingertips.