Trafalgar had already left Mayla's house by the time morning opened fully over Velkaris. The streets were awake, though the city had not reached its full noise. A few shops were opening their shutters. Carriages rolled through the wider roads. Mana lamps still held a faint glow, pale against the growing daylight. He walked toward the station with his hands in his pockets, his mind already pulling itself away from war.
The academy would want answers. That much was obvious. The directors would call him in, and probably the other students whose families had been dragged into the conflict as well. Velkaris Academy had always been strict about that. Once students stepped inside its walls, they were not supposed to be handled like pieces moved around by their houses. If a war had reached them, the academy would address it properly. There would be explanations. Rules. A meeting, most likely.
That thought did not bother him.
