Zafira was finally back, after nearly two weeks spent in Zar'khael territory. She stepped through the gate with the ease of someone who had walked the path too many times to count, stretching her arms above her head as a quiet "hmpf" escaped her lips.
The trip wasn't over yet. She still had to catch the train to the academy, and the only thing that truly appealed to her right now was the thought of her own bed.
Her father crossed her mind while she walked toward the platform. Malakar had taken the news well when he learned she had finished third in her entire year; he had expected nothing less from his daughter, and he made no effort to hide it.
With the calm curiosity of a merchant skimming through an inventory list, he asked about the two names above hers. He wanted to know whether there was any talent worth keeping an eye on, some thread that could be pulled discreetly toward House Zar'khael.
Zafira answered without dressing it up: Alfons in second, Trafalgar at the top.
