Aziz's breath was steady, but his pulse hammered like war drums. His boots barely made a sound against the cold stone floor as he sprinted through the dimly lit corridors of the Academy.
"Left," the Keeper's voice whispered urgently in his ear.
The hallway before him twisted, the stone morphing and stretching, bending into a sharp left turn where there had been none before.
Aziz didn't hesitate—he veered into it just as the sound of hurried footsteps echoed behind him.
"Faster, my Heir. They are closing in."
Aziz pushed harder, his muscles screaming in protest from the exhaustion of the day. He didn't know who was chasing him, only that the Keeper was making sure he wasn't caught.
Just then—his eyes caught something.
A body sprawled across the floor ahead.
Aziz barely had time to react, leaping over it in a smooth motion. For the briefest moment, as he soared through the air, he caught sight of the face.
