The heavy, spatial-lock door of the medical ward hissed open before the Headmistress's starlit scent had even faded from the room. Vane did not need to look up to know who it was. The air in the room did not just move; it ignited.
"If you're dead, I am going to kill you myself," Ashe Razar growled.
She was the first through the door. She had finally ditched that charred leather gear for a simple black training shirt and loose trousers. Her obsidian horns were vibrating with a low, restless hum. Her red eyes were blown wide with a mix of fury and a relief she would never admit to. Behind her, Valerica Sol walked with her usual predatory grace. She had swapped her golden plate for a crisp white silk blouse and tailored slacks. Isole Sylvaris brought up the rear in a soft lavender robe. None of them were carrying weapons. They looked like students instead of soldiers for the first time in weeks.
