Gabriel leaned against the cool stone pillar of the academy's towering gates, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the cobblestone path.
The gates, framed in polished steel filigree that gleamed like molten silver, stood as a monument to the academy's prestige, their intricate runes pulsing faintly with spiritual energy that shimmered like a protective veil, ready to form a barrier against any sudden beast tide or attack
Beyond them, manicured hedges lined the winding paths, their leaves shimmering with a soft, otherworldly glow.
Beds of spiritual flowers—petals in vibrant violet and gold—released a calming scent that mingled with the crisp autumn air, but it did little to soothe Gabriel's frayed nerves.
