Azrael stood in a forest which was close to quill's mansion.
He stretched his stiff body, his muscles aching from the long and cramped ride.
The arrival here had been easy, in a way. The journey itself was hell.
He remembered leaving the Ashveil mansion. The trip to the border was a blur of unfamiliar roads.
The guards at the Elarion border were strict, their glowing visors scanning every cart and bag that passed.
But Quill Var Emreis was not someone they dared to question.
He had simply placed Azrael's luggage in the back of his car.
Azrael had spent the entire journey folded uncomfortably inside a expanded suitcase, listening to the muffled sounds of the world outside.
The soldiers hadn't even thought of asking the Vice Headmaster to open his bags.
Now, after hours of travel in one of Elarion's sleek, silent vehicles that hummed with a low magical energy, they were here.
Elarion was different from the human domain.
