The lingering taste of the academy's surprisingly excellent meal danced on my tongue as Alicia and I joined the small cluster of first-year students waiting in the marble-floored corridor.
It was time for what Professor Kristina had diplomatically termed our "afternoon orientation session."
"Think of it as an extended introduction to your new home," she had said earlier, though something in her weary tone suggested this tour had become as routine for her as breathing.
Professor Kristina appeared precisely on schedule, her sensible heels clicking against the polished stone as she approached our group.
"Follow me, and please keep up," she announced without preamble. "The Erestia Royal Academy spans over three hundred acres, and I have no intention of spending my entire afternoon searching for stragglers."
