Ayani's Insight

The air in the Great Hall, usually thrumming with the excited chatter of students and the gentle hum of magic, felt heavy. It was early March, the leaves outside a riot of fiery reds and golds, and a persistent chill clung to the stone walls. We were gathered for our usual breakfast, but the usual easy camaraderie was strained. The previous evening’s encounter with the creature – a fleeting, terrifying glimpse of something sleek and shadowed that had darted through the restricted arboretum – had left us all unsettled.

“It felt… wrong,” Ayani murmured, pushing a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. Her eyes, usually so clear and focused, held a troubled depth. “Not just dangerous, but… distressed. Like it was in pain.”

Emiliano, ever the pragmatist when it came to anything less than a direct magical assault, snorted. “Distressed? Ayani, it was a beast! It nearly took Santiago’s enchanted quill for a snack!”