Eventually, they crossed the northern path and veered off the main lane, toward a quieter section of the campus—the personal quarters reserved for high-ranking cadets. Irina's dorm wasn't just a room. It was a full private apartment, one of the perks granted to the top ten students in the rankings. Spacious, secure, and—more importantly—soundproof.
When they reached the door, she tapped her ID badge against the side panel. The warded locks clicked open with a soft chime, and she pushed it open with one hand, stepping inside without ceremony.
Astron followed after, the door shutting behind them with a quiet finality.
Inside, the space was warm—tastefully decorated, clean but not sterile. A set of windows stretched along one side, letting in light through half-drawn curtains. The scent of fire-magic still faintly lingered in the air from Irina's last training, mixed with the subtle trace of citrus from a cooling ward on the far wall.
