The halls of the ruined academy were eerily silent as Aryndale, Azedreo, and Zefaniarina pressed forward, their footsteps echoing against the frost-covered stone.
Despite the devastation surrounding them, they needed to find shelter, a safe place to regroup, recover, and plan their next move.
The academy had suffered greatly, but it still held secrets, and perhaps, somewhere in its depths, answers.
Zefaniarina led the way, her cosmic aura dim but still flickering like embers of a dying star. Her golden eyes scanned the ruined architecture, searching for something unseen.
Aryndale and Azedreo followed closely, weapons still drawn, wary of any lingering threats.
They reached what remained of the academy's grand library, one of the few structures that had not completely crumbled.
Though parts of the roof had caved in and frost coated the bookshelves, the heart of the library stood firm. It was a miracle in itself.
