The iron-reinforced gates of the Imperial Academy swung shut behind me with a reverberating clang.
It was still early, the sun was barely peeking over the eastern stone spires, casting long, bruised shadows across the damp cobblestone courtyard.
A thin layer of morning mist clung to the gothic archways and buttresses, carrying the crisp, bitter chill of autumn.
I made my way up the spiral stone staircase to the third-floor dormitories, my boots tapping softly against the cool flagstones. Pushing open the oak door to my private quarters, I slipped inside and threw the iron latch. The room smelled faintly of cedar shavings, dry dust, and cold stone.
It was too early for morning lectures, giving me a rare, undisturbed pocket of time.
