[Perspective of Daven]
As I walked through the corridors of the academy, memories flashed through my mind, but I quickly buried them and concentrated only on my footsteps, which I felt were echoing more than they should. The echo mingled with the accompaniment of unfamiliar voices, and I soon realised that it was not my imagination: dozens of eyes were fixed on me. Some were curious, others seemed to be scrutinising me. There were even those who took a step as if they wanted to approach me, but for some reason stopped halfway, losing interest or perhaps remembering something that made them back away.
The journey down the corridor was lit by huge glass windows that let in sunlight, delicately illuminating the way. As I walked, the air seemed charged with an indecipherable tension, as if from the shadows they were testing my resistance to the unknown.
