Upon the end of a phone call deep in the night, a wandless warlock sat at his reading table, staring at the pages of an ancient enchanted tome.
In the dimly lit interior of the Squad Six dormitories, silence reigned supreme. A few snores punctuated it with homesick mumbles and a few disoriented profanities from Cornelius.
The slight hum of mana from the walls constantly reminded the Arcanium's son of the magic that flowed through the very walls of the castle.
A myriad of other eye-catching anomalies took place on these magical grounds.
Like the bird-like shifter with great white wings that had somehow managed to go through a half-shift and soar about the school grounds in their sleep.
A litany of calls followed the orange-clad shifter as a pair of his comrades tried to catch up to him before the professors on duty heard word of their unsanctioned movements.
