Amberine didn't remember consciously choosing to wander. One moment, she was still at that high corridor window, heart caught in a tangle of memories about her father, about Draven, about the children at the orphanage. The next thing she knew, she was walking barefoot across the university grounds, the looming spire behind her receding with each step.
It was nearing twilight. Not the solemn hush of nighttime, but that strange, golden hour where the campus's ancient stones seemed to reflect every color of a dying sun. The lamps overhead were only half-awake, their mana-charged glow flickering like slow blinks, so the entire scene took on a dreamlike haze. Shadowy corners softened, and the edges of archways and statues blurred gently, as if the world around her were still deciding whether to slip into night or cling to the day.
