Days at the Verdant Dawn Academy began to blur for Alaric. The once-thrilling rhythm of studying, training, and spending time with friends now felt predictable, almost stifling. He'd wake up early, head to his classes, train until exhaustion, share a meal with his group, and collapse into bed. The monotony, though comforting in its structure, left Alaric with a nagging sense of dissatisfaction.
One morning, Alaric sat in the mess hall, absentmindedly pushing a fork through his eggs as the lively chatter of students buzzed around him. Natasha, her auburn hair tied up in a messy ponytail, dropped her tray beside his with a dramatic thud and plopped into the seat.
"You look like someone drained the life out of you," she quipped, her hazel eyes twinkling with mischief. "What's eating you, Alaric?"
