As the crimson sun hovered over the skyline, bathing the vast city of Antrim in its fiery glow, students from all thirteen academies bustled with excitement. The air buzzed with energy as chatter, laughter, and the faint hum of hover buses filled the streets. It was the day of the much-anticipated outing, and the city itself seemed alive, a silent spectator to the mass departure of its most talented magical youth.
Anbord Mage Academy (AMA)...
The meeting had concluded mere hours ago, and the Tyrants wasted no time. At the heart of the Anbord Mage Academy, the Main Courtyard became a spectacle of discipline and unity. A fleet of sleek hover buses, pristine black with shimmering gold highlights, floated just above the cobbled stone paths. The AMA crest—a flaming red A intertwined with a blazing sun—was emblazoned on their sides, glowing faintly.
