The academy grounds were lively as always—cadets chatting in groups, practicing in the distance, mana training sessions echoing through the open-air corridors—but for Emily, the world had dimmed into a quiet haze.
Her boots clicked softly against the stone as she made her way across the main path, books clutched tightly to her chest. The early morning breeze tugged at the edges of her uniform coat, but she barely noticed.
Another day. Another set of lectures. Another quiet lunch in the corner of the dining hall.
She had classmates, of course. Names she recognized, faces she nodded to in passing, the occasional comment shared in group exercises. But none of them were close. None of them were the kind of people she could turn to and say, "My father was nearly," or "My guild is bleeding while I sit in a classroom pretending everything's fine."
