The week passed in uneasy calm.
The capital, though scarred, had begun to breathe again. The great bells had tolled for King Cillian's funeral, their mournful echo rolling across Camelot for three long days.
The streets were filled with black banners and silent crowds. When the ceremony ended, the lockdown was lifted, and for the first time since the dragon's fall, the city stirred with movement again.
The crown's proclamation had followed soon after. The truth had been released.
The king's final battle had been fought alongside hybrids, and the official decree called them heroes of Camelot.
It declared that hybrids were not cursed or diseased, but "blessed with strength beyond mortal men."
The words had sent a small uproar through the nobility but had brought relief to the people.
Now, far from the capital's mourning towers, life at the Royal Academy of Magic was returning.
Carriages lined the academy gates, bearing students in their dark uniforms.
