From the upper balcony of the eastern faculty wing, the world below looked smaller.
Students walked the cobbled paths in scattered clusters, their laughter carried by the evening air. The academy's banners swayed in rhythm with the slow wind, shadows stretching across the courtyard. The atmosphere was calm — too calm, Chase thought.
He leaned against the iron railing, eyes fixed on the lone figure moving through the courtyard. Arios.
Even from this distance, Chase could recognize him by the way he walked — deliberate, silent, unhurried. The kind of walk that made people think he had nowhere to be when, in truth, he was always exactly where he needed to be. That composure irritated Chase more than anything else.
The light from the west tower cast a faint glow on Arios's white shirt, dulling the faint sheen of sweat that came from training earlier. He wasn't talking to anyone. Just moving, always deep in that detached rhythm of his thoughts.
Chase narrowed his eyes.
