The sun dipped low over Drakorra, painting the city in gold and amber. The bustling streets slowly quieted as the students, guided by their teachers, made their way back toward the Academy. Dragons carried a few tired or restless students, while others flyed beside their companions, exchanging excited chatter about their discoveries.
By the time they reached the Academy's dining hall, the warmth of the day had softened into a gentle evening calm. The hall buzzed with quiet conversation, laughter, and the occasional clatter of utensils, yet the memory of the market still lingered in everyone's minds.
Lira slid into her seat beside Maelin, still thoughtful. She absently patted the small bag containing her silver vine pendant, her mind replaying the glances she had seen in the market.
Maelin, noticing her pensive mood, nudged her lightly. "You've been quiet since we left the streets. What's on your mind?"
