Kent dropped into the seat beside Alistair, near the front row — close enough to catch every word the instructor said, but far enough to avoid being that guy.
The classroom itself was enormous, shaped like a miniature amphitheater, with seats arranged in ascending rows circling a large central podium. Silver runes glowed faintly along the steps, illuminating the mana channels that powered the projectors and wards built into the room.
Students murmured quietly all around him, nervous laughter, the shuffle of bags, the occasional flicker of mana as someone practiced a small spell to calm their nerves.
Kent leaned back, exhaling. "Well," he muttered, "day one of the next few years of our lives."
Alistair glanced at him, one brow raised. "You sound thrilled."
Kent smirked. "I'm just waiting to see who gets eaten first."
Alistair actually laughed, a dry, quiet sound. "If I had to guess, probably whoever tries to talk back to the instructors."
