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The procession that rode through the academy gates at mid-morning was nothing like the small, nervous party that had arrived a year before.

At the front rode Aria, her cloak of midnight blue lined with silver fur, her posture straight and unapologetic, her gaze sweeping over the towers and walls like someone returning not as a student, but as one of the people who helped decide what this place would become. Beside her rode Malphas, his crown of shadow and iron resting lightly on his brow, his presence so vast and steady that even the gargoyles perched on the gate towers seemed to lean forward to watch him pass....