Bathed

The headmaster's words from earlier were simple and curt, leaving no room for interpretation.

"Uniforms are in your quarters. Change. Be at class within the hour."

And just like that, he and the instructors had left, their cloaks sweeping behind them as though they had no interest in the recruits who now stood stunned in the hall. 

No grand speeches, no motivation, not even a word of welcome. It was as if they were beneath even the courtesy of acknowledgment. 

In the headmaster's eyes, they were unfinished goods, unworthy of names or notice until they'd proven themselves.

It all happened so fast as they were all ushered out. Still they didn't know what they were doing here but the Order didn't need questions. It required submission.

Aziz and Marcus were quickly separated from the others as the recruits were divided into groups and herded down the winding hallways by faceless Order mercenaries.

The corridors themselves were disorienting.