The gates of the Cordelia Magic Academy loomed ahead, meticulously crafted with intricate spiraling motifs that conveyed an aesthetic of both sophistication and formidable security.
Stone walls rose thirty feet high, surrounding grounds that occupied nearly four square miles of carefully maintained terrain.
Gardens, training grounds, dormitories, and the central tower, where the most advanced magical studies took place.
All of it was contained within barriers designed to prevent outside interference and contain the occasional magical overflow from student experimentation.
Rhys walked through the main entrance.
The moment his form crossed the threshold, whispers erupted across the courtyard like wind through dry grass.
A third-year student dropped her spell work mid-cast, the conjured flame sputtering out as her attention snapped toward the half-elf walking across the academy grounds.
