The train slowed with a soft hiss, the steady rhythm beneath their feet fading into a low murmur before coming to a full stop. The doors slid open, and the carriage began to empty little by little.
Trafalgar was among the first to stand. He stepped down onto the platform with a steady pace, his bag resting against his shoulder. Aubrelle followed at his side. Before leaving the carriage, she had put the bandage back in place, covering her eyes once more. Not out of shame. It was simply easier this way. Pipin settled on her shoulder the moment she stepped onto the platform, his wings folding neatly as he observed their surroundings.
The academy's station was alive.
