As William approached the Forging Department, the atmosphere grew increasingly sombre. He slowed his pace, taking in the sight of the dozen or so masters lined up before the gates.
It wasn't just their serious expressions that caught his attention; he could see dark, bruised lines under the eyes of nearly everyone in the queue. They looked haggard, as if they had spent the last several nights awake, fueled only by adrenaline and obsession.
"What is going on here?" William murmured to himself.
The transition was stark. The last time he had visited, the massive gates had been thrown wide open, inviting the heat and roar of the furnaces to spill out into the academy grounds. Now, they were tightly shut, barred from the inside as if the department was under siege.
"What brought a second-year kid like you all the way out here?"
The deep voice came from directly behind him. William turned to find a young man draped in silver attire—the mark of a high-grade disciple.
