'Eirian's not here.'
As Azrael wandered through the labyrinthine corridors of the academy, the absence of Eirian weighed heavily on his mind. He traversed the familiar pathways, the grandeur of the ancient stone walls a stark contrast to the growing unease within him.
Occasionally, he paused to exchange pleasantries with some of their group members, a forced smile on his lips.
Despite the awkwardness that often accompanied these interactions, Azrael remained steadfast in his efforts to forge connections within their team. Every nod, every brief conversation, was a step towards building the unity they desperately needed.
His search for Eirian led him to their housemaster, Cecillion, who greeted him with a knowing smile. "Your Highness," Cecillion began, his tone carrying a note of anticipation, "I assume you're looking for Prince Eirian?"
