Sonea stepped out into the warm afternoon breeze. Her classmates, wrapped up in an agitated chatter, spilt out of the University behind her as she stopped on the staircase, hesitating. A weird mixture of both relief and dread were struggling within her.
Relief, because her late afternoon classes had just been cancelled. Apparently, Lord Elben had done an experiment on himself with a new herbal mixture he had thought might contain great healing power, but instead had ended up sick and was now being treated at the Healers' Quarters. Since cancellation of lessons due to a sick teacher was a more than rare occurrence at a University for magicians, the news had instantly flared a giddy excitement among Sonea's fellow Novices, and the mood had quickly caught up on her as well.
Nevertheless, it hadn't been able to chase away the dread weighing heavily on her heart. A long afternoon now lay ahead of her. Hours and hours in which she had to avoid the High Lord and his Residence somehow.
Despite the sun warming her face, a chill ran down her spine and she shuddered. From the corner of her eye, she glanced at the low, dark building huddled amongst the trees where the forest started while she willed her legs to descend the vast stairway of the university. Better not to appear to be looking that way. Who knew, he might be watching.
It took all her willpower to suppress another shudder. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she hesitated again, and her chest heaved with a heavy sigh as she looked around indecisively. Where to?
She looked up at the sky. Not a single cloud was disturbing the perfect blue spreading towards the horizon. Up to the spring then, she decided. She could go through her notes of Lord Elben's latest Healing lectures there, in order to make up for the lost practice they would have done today. After all, her midterms were starting next week.
Her feet seemed to find the all too familiar path past the older magicians' Residences, through the forest and up the hill on her own, but Sonea forced herself to stay focused on her quick, rhythmic steps in order to prevent her mind from wandering.
Right now, she just didn't want to think. She couldn't even say why, but the feeling of tension that had caught her when leaving the University grew more tangible with every step she took.
She couldn't help a sense of foreboding, that something bad was about to happen… but, no. Again, she willed her train of thoughts to stop. She shook her head firmly and clutched the box with her notes a little tighter to her chest. This was hilarious. It seemed her constant fear of the High Lord was slowly leading her into paranoia. Her expression turned grim.
And then, her face fell. She skidded to an abrupt halt and almost dropped her box, her heart leaping into her mouth. Right there beside the spring, in the shadow of the very tree where she always used to study, he sat, his back leaning against the trunk.
His face was covered in darkness, but the black robes choked off every tiny spark of hope she'd dare to nurture that it was anyone but him.
The center of her every nightmare.
High Lord Akkarin.