That afternoon, the Academy paused for a moment of peace. Classes resumed, gardens bloomed under arcane suns, and laughter drifted on warm breezes. Yet every corner bore reminders: wards still glowed, repairs continued, and the Altar of Echoes demanded deeper study.
Seraphina found me in the library's highest tower. "Your next lesson awaits at dusk," she said, placing a frost‑chilled tome on the table. "We explore the Archive of Whispers."
"Archive of Whispers?" I echoed, opening the book to find its pages blank.
She smirked. "It reveals secrets only to those who listen." She tapped her temple. "Your ears, Architect."
In the evening, I followed Cerafina through the hidden ladder in the inscription - a dome roller that was rolled with a whisper. When I walked inside, I felt that a flying had settled on me while the hall itself breathes.
