A slow, electric murmur rolled across the field like distant thunder gathering its strength, low and ominous, vibrating through the soles of my boots and up into my bones. Ysara raised one elegant hand, fingers splayed gracefully against the pale afternoon sky, and the simple gesture was enough to choke every conversation stone-dead in an instant. Laughter died mid-breath. Whispers evaporated into thin air. Heads tilted upward in perfect, instinctive unison, eyes wide and glittering with raw, hungry anticipation for whatever fresh spectacle the professors had decided to unleash next.
For one fragile, trembling heartbeat, the entire academy grounds held its collective breath.
It felt like the hush right before lightning splits the sky wide open and sets the world on fire.
Then the air above us rippled.
