Walking on the path covered in blossom leaves, Iris clenched her book, looking at the academy with a smile on her face.
The Academy rose from the earth with a serene confidence, its four white-and-gold stoeies gleamed softly in the daylight. It didn't tower or loom; instead, it radiated an inviting presence, the kind of warmth that made out feel like knowledge itself was waiting at the door, but what do you expect, the blessing of Praise lingered in the air around it, never wanting to leave, subtle, not showy, like a quiet hymn woven into the walls.
Its roof was in the shape of triangles, crowned at each floor, steep and pointing like the tip of miniature temple spires. The yellow trim along the eaves caught the light in a way that made you seem almost haloed. Each roofline angled upward with a gentle, but unmistakable grace, as if the entire building... had been designed to echo a lifted chin, a hopeful gaze...
