The academy grounds had never felt so still.
It was a peculiar sort of quiet, one that settled not because there was nothing happening, but because too much was. From every dormitory, every training wing, every courtyard, students emerged with their gear in hand. Boots struck polished stone. Cloaks brushed against satchels packed with potions, sealed scrolls, and sharpened steel. The morning sky stretched wide and pale above, still carrying the last traces of dawn.
Arios stepped out of the Class D dorm building, coat fastened, sword at his hip. Lucy walked at his left, Liza at his right. The three had spoken little during the early hours; sleep had come in fragments and restless intervals.
"Airships are already visible from the east wall," Lucy said quietly, adjusting the strap across her shoulder.
Liza nodded. "Three of them. Reinforced hulls, mana propellers, armored undercarriage. They're expecting trouble."
