Autumn arrived at the Celestial Academy with the specific quality that seasons have when they arrive at altitudes above ordinary ground — arriving not as a gradual shift but as a clean transition, a moment where the atmosphere changed its fundamental character and the floating islands began their movement toward the cold that high places maintained through the turning of the year.
Three months had passed.
For ordinary disciples, those months had been filled with the standard progression of cultivation work — lessons in their respective Halls, sparring in designated arenas, the endless competition that students maintained with each other as they developed their capabilities in measured increments. The routine had its own momentum, its own pace, the predictability of an institution that had been running long enough to have established how these things were done.
For Aether, Liora, and Kael, the three months had been something else entirely.
