The courtyard, once pristine with glowing stones and carefully trimmed hedges, now resembled a war zone.
Craters lined the broken paths, the once-beautiful fountain cracked and coughing out spurts of water like a dying creature. Shards of stone and twisted vines littered the area as wind from Gail's unchecked magic churned the air.
More apprentices had begun to gather along the perimeters—perched atop balconies, hiding behind shattered columns, peeking from open windows and archways. Some stood in silent awe, others in grim silence.
"Silvermist's not even using magic," one muttered, clutching their night gown tightly as another wind sphere roared past.
"Is she stupid? Or just done for?"
A group huddled near the far garden entrance, half-shadowed by the broken wall. A blonde-haired girl with sharp eyes gritted her teeth. "We should help her. Gail's gone too far—this isn't just a misunderstanding of some sort or whatever."
