The heavy clack of boots echoed through the stone dormitory corridor as Christina shoved the last of her robes into the leather-bound trunk. Her breaths were shallow, rushed, but her hands worked with practiced precision—this wasn't the first time she'd fled, but it was the first time she ran with something worth fearing at her back.
"You're really leaving?" Lema's voice came softly, almost like a plea.
Christina paused, one hand still gripping the strap of her travel satchel. Her friend stood by the door, fingers clutched around the hem of her cloak, worry written plainly across her face.
Lema was a student of mage faculty also being a daughter of a famous merchant in capital, Lema had been Christina's closest companion at Sturgon Academy. Neither noble blood nor divine birth, they'd bonded over shared ceilings of limitations.
"Yes," Christina said, not meeting her gaze. "I have to go. I won't get another chance."
