The door to the dormitory block eased open with a faint metallic groan, catching briefly before giving way under Lucavion's palm. Warm air met his face—stale with breath, linens, mana residue. Life returning to the walls as students stirred from sleep. Footsteps echoed softly in the upper halls, distant chatter bleeding in from the stairwell. Morning had officially begun.
Lucavion didn't look at any of them.
He moved past the common area without pause, not breaking stride even as two boys glanced his way, then quickly looked elsewhere when their eyes met his. By now, they knew better than to ask. He wasn't in the mood.
Or maybe they were not?
And today?
Even less so.
His thoughts were a tangle—Elowyn, Elara, Cedric, Reilan. The spell. The smell. The book. The way she fought like she was pretending not to know how to fight.
And yet—
"Unknowingly..." he muttered, voice low enough not to carry, "I somehow progressed things faster, didn't I?"
