The students and teachers of Wilton were gathered in Raze's room. Some sat perched on the edge of the bed, others squeezed onto the small couch pressed into the corner, and a few more leaned against the walls, arms crossed, content simply to be in the same space together.
The air was light, almost festive, a ripple of laughter and chatter weaving through the room. Spirits were high; after the battles they had witnessed and endured, it felt as though victory already rested in their hands. Many believed it was nearly time to leave, that their ordeal was almost over.
At the same time, the students of Wilton didn't want to leave. The event was drawing to a close and they might never see Raze and the others again.
Panla, ever thoughtful, broke through the noise with a serious tone.
