A full day had passed since the memorial.
After my mother called out to me at the edge of the courtyard yesterday, I spent the rest of the day with her and Mia. She didn't push me about the fight or make me explain anything ; she just wanted to make sure I was alive and breathing.
We stayed together until late into the night, a quiet moment of warmth while the city outside slowly went cold. But even that peaceful time couldn't fully lift the heavy weight of the memorial service, which had now faded into the foggy autumn air.
By morning, the academy grounds were nearly empty. The one-week shutdown had forced the remaining students to pack their bags, use transportation gates, or head toward the airship docks. Most of the students were already gone.
Roan and Lyssaria had been picked up early by a royal elven escort ; their father, the Elven King, had ordered them to return to the Elf domain to recover. Given the political fires burning across the continent, it made sense.
