And like that, a week had gone by.
The marble corridors, once empty and echoing, now buzzed with footsteps and voices from every corner of Eternia.
Prodigies, nobles, commoners — all answered the call of the academy — streaming in through the pearl white gates each day.
Eleanor, now known as Elle remained in the east wing of the girl's dormitory with Elena.
A tall crescent-shaped building made of white-stone, its balcony overlooked the moving students below.
The silhouette of the west wing, reserved for male students —was barely visible across the garden path and the central area of the campus.
Inside, Eleanor sat on a chair, sipping tea from a thin porcelain cup. Her expression remained unreadable.
Across the room, Elena sprawled herself on the bed, staring at the ceiling. "One week left," she exhaled. "And still not here."
Eleanor didn't respond, taking another slow sip of her tea. "Worrying won't do us any good," She spoke. "Knowing him, he'll make it in time."
