The morning in the academy was unusual; the atmosphere, even the clouds were a veil of white. Fog drifted around the compound of the academy, thicker than usual—it was like a towering white wall that stretched to the sky.
The night surely had retreated for the moment and allowed the day to resume its work, but it seemed to have forgotten one of its belongings—the cold. And the day, despite being so early, seemed to be using a generous amount of it without a care in the world for the shivering and curling students in their beds.
Northern had a considerable resistance to cold and heat, yet even he was not aware when he dragged out a duvet from his wardrobe and rolled it around his body. He woke up feeling like a hotdog in a wrap.
The first thing Northern did was run over to his table to check the time. Luckily for him, he had not woken up late like he did last time. It was still the early hours of the morning, before people had even begun to wake.
