The battle had begun.
The alarm rang across the academy grounds—sharp, relentless—and order followed chaos almost instantly. Students who had been outside their dorms were herded back inside, doors barred, wards flaring to life as instructors shouted commands down the corridors.
Ariana stepped out with several other instructors, weapons already in hand, expressions carved from experience rather than panic.
From the way they moved—swift, precise, without hesitation—it was clear they had been expecting this. With the recent surge in Acolyte sightings, an attack was never a question of if, only when.
Ariana adjusted the weight of the flail resting against her back, her silver hair catching the light as she turned slowly, listening. Steel clashed in the distance. Something heavy slammed into the ground, hard enough to make the earth tremble. Cries—both human and inhuman—rose from the forest, carried by the wind.
The worst part was not the noise itself.
