Evaline:
The beginning of the sixth week rolled in with golden leaves rustling against the stone pathways of the Academy.
Autumn had fully embraced the grounds, painting the trees in hues of amber, burnt orange, and deep red. If I were soone else, I might have romanticized the beauty of the season - the crunch of leaves underfoot, the llow sunlight filtering through branches - but the shift in the air was not just in the weather.
The peaceful lull we got to enjoy for the five weeks of the term ca to a sharp, screeching halt.
Professors across every subject seed to have woken up with a vengeance, as if they all collectively decided that now was the ti to remind us we were at the most prestigious and demanding academy in the shifter world.
Over the week, we received assignnts, group projects, and news of tests/quizzes that were to take place I’m seventh and eighth weeks.
So students actually groaned out loud in the middle of classes, others (like ) just buried their heads in their notes and braced for the wave.
Still, what unsettled the most wasn’t the workload, but Professor Kieran.
He returned mid-week, and the first mont he stepped into class, I felt it like a chill wind slithering down my spine. He looked the sa - long blonde hair tied back, his attire sharp and scholarly, his posture perfect - but sothing about him was feeling different.
It wasn’t visible... but it was there. To anyone else, he was just as clear, efficient, and gentle in tone. But for soone like , who had shared quiet conversations and half-smiles with him before, I could tell.
His eyes were more tired. Less warm. The small, amused expressions that used to flicker across his face during lively class discussions were gone.
And I wasn’t the only one who noticed sothing had changed. At least not emotionally.
"Did he seem...off to you?" Mallory whispered Thursday afternoon after class, as we headed toward the library.
"A little," I replied, though the weight of that "little" was sittinb heavy in my chest. "Maybe he’s just tired."
She gave a long look and added, "Or maybe sothing’s wrong."
I didn’t say it aloud, but I was thinking the sa. He hadn’t shown up for a few days, and then returned like nothing had happened. I had a terrible feeling it might be connected to the thing no one else was talking about - the missing warrior group. The incident that only I seed to know about.
But I said nothing. I couldn’t afford to stir any more questions.
As the week wore on, the rest of the Academy carried on in typical fashion - loud, dramatic, and occasionally ridiculous.
The usual crowd of jealous girls, and even so petty boys, never stopped throwing looks my way. They made it known that they still hated my presence, still whispered behind my back, still rolled their eyes if I so much as spoke in class.
They reminded my friends... again. Told Kyros he was wasting his potential by sticking with soone like . Tried to corner Mallory with fake concern. I even overheard one idiot tell Selene that she was making a mistake trusting a girl with "no real past."
But my friends didn’t flinch.
"You people are so boring," Mallory had snapped at one point. "Find a new hobby."
"We don’t drop our own," Selene said another ti, with that unnervingly sweet smile of hers.
And Kyros? He just stared them down like a wolf ready to bite.
I didn’t say much during those encounters. I didn’t need to. They fought my battles with , and that ant more than they could ever know.
Ironically, the anest ones had gone quiet lately. Likely because there hadn’t been any public interaction between and the Rogue Alpha brothers.
And so, my life at the Academy was back into a rhythm again - stressful, but steady.
I spent most of the week studying with my friends. When we weren’t in class, we sprawled across corners of the gardens, huddled together in dorm common rooms, in study halls, or library, surrounded by scattered books and our laptops.
So evenings were filled with laughter, other tis with collective groans as we stared at impossible problems in Spellcraft or Theoretical Rune Configurations.
There was sothing comforting about the shared struggle. It made things feel...normal.
Until Runes class.
Professor Aldric cleared his throat dramatically as he stood before our seated class on Friday morning.
"I hope you have all been paying attention these past weeks," he said. "Because it’s ti to take things beyond ink and paper. Starting Monday, our class will be traveling to Halendor Ruins."
A buzz of excitent rippled through the classroom.
Halendor Ruins.
I knew the na from books and overheard conversations. It was a historical site located two hours south of the Academy, known for its ancient rune stones and faded glyphs said to predate even the first wars of the Clans.
It was rare for students to be granted access.
"We’ll be spending four days at the site," Professor Aldric continued. "You’ll be partnered up and given a list of runes to identify, translate, and research. The final analysis will count toward twenty percent of your overall grade."
Twenty percent.
The gasps were loud, including mine.
"You’ll be expected to maintain academic decorum during the trip. No fooling around, no sneaking off, and no tampering with the protected areas. Anyone caught breaking rules will be sent back and fail this assignnt."
The room quieted fast.
The rest of the period was spent reviewing ancient rune structures and classifications. My mind kept wandering more than once, already trying to plan for the trip.
What would the ruins feel like in person? Would I sense sothing others wouldn’t?
I was both nervous and excited about this trip. Nervous because it wasn’t just a trip but a field project that held extre importance for final grades, and excited because... well... it was a trip after all.
In short, I was really looking forward to it.
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