The next morning broke colder than expected.
Despite the golden sun rising over Arcanum's twisting towers, the air seemed to cling to my skin with a damp, unsettling chill, like the world itself knew something ugly was about to unfold.
I stood before the mirror in my private dorm room, buttoning the high-collared black jacket of my school uniform with steady, mechanical fingers. The faint tap-tap of Smaug's claws against the floor broke the silence; he paced behind me, tail swishing anxiously like a restless cat despite his dragon-sized body.
[You're unusually quiet,] the system said, its voice threading gently into my mind.
"I'm thinking," I replied mentally, tightening the last button and adjusting the silver pin of my family crest over my heart. "About today."
[Good. Because you're going to need your wits intact, darling.]
