Late-afternoon light streamed outside Mage Guild's headquarters, filtering through a lattice of twisted iron gates. Richard, Trevor, and Oren had just slipped free of their final session—a gruelling lecture on advanced spell theory—when Trevor declared that he needed a pick-me-up.
Richard hardly protested; even he, for all his stamina, felt mentally taxed from the day's relentless barrage of arcane formulae.
It wasn't hard, just boring.
Together, they cut across the stone walkway, weaving past a cluster of busy mages, until they emerged onto the cobbled street beyond the Guild's walls.
The city hummed gently in the background, pedestrians chatted in subdued tones, and the glow of lamplight began to flicker in windows as dusk drew near.
"Do we need an extra coffee for Nadia as well?" Oren asked, adjusting the satchel slung over his shoulder.
