Isadora:
The morning air was cold against my cheeks as I got dressed and left my dorm, dragging my feet across the cracked stone floors of Ashywick’s endless corridors. Every step felt heavier than the last. My body ached in ways I didn’t remember being capable of, and my mind—my mind was a storm I couldn’t quiet. I had barely slept, though my dreams had been filled with shadowed corridors, flames, and whispers that seemed to follow me even when my eyes were open. I still carried the residue of panic in my chest, like a stone pressing on my ribs.
I ran a hand along the banister, feeling the cold of the iron bite through the thin sleeve of my cardigan. The halls were empty, except for the faint hum of enchantments placed to guide students through the maze of the Academy. I wondered how ma
