A brass whistle arced through the morning air.
Alex caught it with his left hand, the metal cold against his palm. His right hand remained wrapped in fresh linen, tucked safely against his side.
"You tore apart my defensive drill in yesterday's faculty review," Cassandra said, crossing her arms over her chest plate. The stone courtyard was damp with morning dew, and the air was sharp with the smell of ozone. "You claimed standard barrier casting against Knights is institutional suicide. Since you seem to know better than the curriculum, Edelhart, teach the class yourself."
She stepped back to the courtyard railing, leaving Alex standing alone before the assembled first-year mages.
