The afternoon sun's rays stabbed Leon's eyes when he exited from the trial hall's main door. He raised his right hand and shielded himself.
The clean air washed over him, carrying the scent of damp grass and the distant, sweet-rotten perfume from the fruitful trees.
He closed his eyes and inhaled the air, but stopped and shifted his gaze upward—a sharp cry cut through the hum of the wind.
Against the vast, pale blue sky, a flock of white birds wheeled in a circle directly overhead.
For a moment, they seemed to orbit the space above him, their wings catching the sun like flashes of silver.
Then, with one movement, they banked and arrowed upward, vanishing into a high, wispy cloud.
A strange hollow feeling thrummed in Leon's chest, like being witnessed by something otherworldly.
His walk to the dormitories was like being driven by the wind.
Stopping by the center of the quad, whispers that had once been barbed with insults now held a questioning tone.
