The next morning dawned crisp and golden, sunlight spilling across the academy's courtyards and cloisters. Normally, mornings began with quiet order, the shuffle of feet toward classrooms, the rustle of robes, the occasional yawn from a sleepy first-year. But today, the air was electric.
Everywhere Lira went, she heard fragments of conversation. In the stairwells, first-years whispered about dragons with wide eyes, voices rising with both awe and fear. In the courtyard, a group of older students debated animatedly about what kinds of elements the Dragon Academy might teach. Even the dining hall, usually subdued with the sound of spoons clinking in porridge bowls, roared with speculation.
"They say their students can summon fire straight from the sky."
"No, no, some of them are dragons. I heard it from a tutor who visited years ago!"
"What if they let us ride one?"
