Even more time has passed in the academy, and Logan had done a lot in the second year. Even at the moment, he was in a class.
He was in his Body Enchantment class, improving his skills and starting a new part of his lesson.
The room smelled faintly of scorched leather and damp stone.
It was a scent that had long since sunk into the walls, the ceiling, and the very grain of the wooden benches.
No matter how many windows Mr. Joe opened, the air never truly cleared.
Even on those rare days when the wind outside came in sharp and fresh, the moment Logan stepped inside, that heavy mix of smoke and earth closed around him again.
The scent was the mark of years of work. Heated rune metal.
The musk of beasts was brought in for testing. The charred remains of failed enchantments, each one burned into memory and stone alike.
It was quiet here.
Always quiet.
There were no other voices to fill the space. No shuffle of books or chairs from other students.
