The sun shone brightly through the vast windows of the assembly hall.
Casting long beams of golden light onto the polished wooden floors.
I stood on the elevated podium alongside the other instructors.
My arms folded as I gazed down at the rows of students gathered below.
From this vantage point, it was easy to see how nervous they all were, shifting uneasily in their designated groups.
The first-years stood to the left, their faces a mix of apprehension and excitement.
To the right were the second-years, who bore more hardened expressions but carried their own share of worry.
Among them, I easily picked out Draven.
The "protagonist" of our little academy drama stood tall.
Exuding confidence that bordered on arrogance.
Roselyn, a diligent first-year who seemed to orbit Draven like a moon around a planet, clung to his side.
And, of course, there was Princess Elara, the embodiment of grace and beauty, completing the ensemble.
I couldn't help but scoff inwardly.
