Michael and Rudy made it to the great hall without any issues. As they walked through the doors, a few disinterested glances were cast their way, but the people quickly turned their attention back to their food.
As Blake had mentioned, the long tables dominated the great hall. However, compared to the previous night, fewer than half of the students had decided to get up early for breakfast.
"How do we get food?" Rudy asked, his eyes scanning the hall, searching for any sign of where they might need to go—perhaps an adjoining kitchen, a server, or something else.
"You two are first-years?" an older teen asked from nearby, his tone formal. The guy's posture was as rigid as a spear, and his clear blue eyes assessed them, though they were partially covered by his fringe.
Michael nodded, unsure of what the teen wanted from them.
