Wednesday — 09:00 AM
Combat Awareness Trial — Zone C
The morning air inside the staging hall was cold enough to bite.
Not unpleasantly—just sharp, the kind of chill that tightened posture and honed breath. Students filed into their designated waiting lanes, instructors marking attendance with faintly glowing quills. The hum of the illusion domes thrummed beneath the stone floor, steady and foreboding.
Elara stepped into Lane 3.
Silent. Composed. Her hands clasped lightly behind her back, illusion-hazel eyes calm beneath the soft fall of chestnut hair Eveline had given her. She carried herself like Elowyn Caerlin should—elegant, distant, untouchable—but her heartbeat was steady in that way unique to people who weren't easily rattled.
Several students were already scattered throughout the lane, but only one stood near the marker assigned to Elara's group.
At first, Elara saw only the woman's back.
Then the woman turned—
and her breath slipped.
