11

Beyond the main gate, a broad road stretched to the left and right, carrying students deeper into the Cloisters. Directly across from them stood another gate, though vines and flowering plants had claimed nearly every inch of its ancient frame. Leaves curled over the stone, and delicate blooms spilled across the arch as though the garden beyond had grown around the gate and made it its own.

"Muana Garden," she read the name carved above the entrance, then passed beneath it and the garden stole her breath.

It spread vast and green before her, far larger than she had imagined. In its center stood a great puzzle of towering hedges, its walls rose higher than a man twisting into paths that disappeared from sight. Flower beds stretched between decorative bushes, while strange trees rose from the earth with shapes and leaves, she had never seen before.

Magic cressets stood among the paths, their flames were casting soft yellow and violet light across the garden even beneath the fading evening sky.

Ryska walked deeper, followed the winding path around the great hedge puzzle until another gate came into view beyond it. She crossed beneath that one as well, and another road opened before her, stretching away in both directions and then she saw the bridge.

It crossed the river that separated the garden from the ancient building beyond, though it ended before another great gate. Beyond that gate stood a beautiful two-story structure built entirely from pale white stone, her gaze followed the road instead.

Cressets lined its edges, their yellow and violet flames reflected upon the riverbank, while the water moved quietly between the garden and the building.

Her eyes lifted to the carved board above the distant entrance again and she stared at sign. "Aethoria Library."

Valere came up behind her, and when he reached her side, he followed her gaze. “That,” he said, pointing toward the grand building to the left of the library, “is the dining hall.”

Ryska turned her head as he gestured farther beyond it.

“And that,” Valere continued, pointing toward the open grounds right to the library, “is where they hold the drills, the festivals, and the great gatherings. Every feast, ceremony, and celebration eventually finds its way there.”

Ryska looked back at him, Valere caught her expression and smiled. “Am I a good guide?”

She gave him a doubtful look.

“I come here every year during Amara’s Apex,” he added. “My house arranges a feast for the students each year, so I know the place better than most.”

Ryska looked toward the vast garden again, taking in the ancient gates, the glowing cressets, the river, and the white stone library beyond.

Perhaps, she thought, he was not such a terrible guide after all.

“Your rooms are to the left,” Valere said, gesturing toward the road that curved around the garden. “I will wait here for supper, the bell should ring soon enough.”

Ryska looked at him, then followed the direction of his hand. “Very well," she nodded and turned left and began walking.

Valere remained where he stood, watching her go, he took one step backward and then another. His gaze remained upon her as she followed the quiet road, and he continued retreating until she reached the corner, turned left and disappeared.

Valere lingered for another moment before he finally turned and walked and at the corner, he turned right and followed the road toward the men's quarters.

Soon, the ancient stone residence came into view. "The Shalve Halls," he murmured as he looked at the name carved above the great arched entrance, while ivy climbed the pale stone walls and warm cresset-light spilled through the tall windows.

Valere passed beneath the gate and entered the Shalve Halls, and found himself before a broad stone wall, with two staircases rising on either side of it. One climbed to the left, the other to the right, he paused a moment and took the right staircase.

He had never come into the Shalve Halls before, this area belonged solely to the students, and visitors were not permitted beyond the garden. He climbed until the staircase opened onto a small stone balcony and he stopped there. The two staircases met upon the balcony, forming a quiet landing beneath the high arched ceiling.

He stood there and glanced toward the distant lights of the girls' quarters glimmering faintly through the trees, it stood far enough away that he could make out little more than the scattered glow of lamps between the branches.

Valere looked at it for a moment, then turned away to find a narrow corridor stretched before him, with doors facing one another on either side. Each bore a small number carved into its wooden frame, Valere approached the first door, his room.

He rested his hand upon the latch, opened it, and stepped inside.

The room was larger than Valere had expected, though its simplicity left little doubt that it had been made for students rather than comfort.

Four beds stood within it, arranged in pairs that faced one another, with a comfortable passage running between them. A wide window stood directly opposite the entrance, allowing the fading evening light to fall through the room and illuminate the stone floor.

Beside each bed, a study desk rested against the wall, giving every student his own quiet space to read and work. Two wooden closets stood on either side of the door, their doors were plain and sturdy, completing the modest furnishings.

And beyond the window, the river stretched quietly through the grounds, while the Savale Range rose in the distance. Farther still, the ancient spires of Aethoria pierced the horizon, it was not lavish, it was not grand, but it was spacious, orderly, and comfortable enough to make the room feel like a place one could call home.

For a moment, he remained before the window, taking in the view of the river, the mountains, the academy spires, and the home he had known all his life and then he turned toward the room and let out a quiet breath.

No one stayed here unless they had earned it. Not even the King of Aldaene himself could buy a place within these walls. Valere had passed the same examination as everyone else, sat upon the same benches, and answered the same questions with nothing but his own mind to carry him through it, just as his brother had done years before him.

A quiet pride settled into him, one he had never expected to feel over something he had spent so many years simply assuming would belong to him. Yet beneath that pride rested something softer, harder to name, disbelief.

He had actually made it, this was where the next three years would begin, he thought and then her face came to him. Three years, three years of these halls, these lessons, these endless examinations and, somewhere within them, her.

He pictured her wandering the same gardens, sitting beneath the same trees, crossing the same ancient halls. He would see her here every day, perhaps by chance, perhaps by design, perhaps only for a fleeting moment between one lesson and the next.

Three years with Ryska, Valere lowered his gaze, and the corner of his mouth lifted, perhaps Abbys was not such a terrible place after all.

Three years suddenly did not sound like an eternity, it sounded like a promise and, gods help him, it sounded like a rather fine one.