New Friends and Old Lessons

"Hurry! It's time for practice!" a voice called—sharp, urgent.

I blinked up at the ceiling, wincing against the assault of morning light. My limbs felt like they were made of stone, sleep still curled around my bones. As I rubbed my eyes, a familiar blur sharpened—Doverel, looking far too chipper for this hour.

"Sorry for disappearing on you yesterday," she said, a little softer now.

Apologizing already? Suspicious.

I groaned. "What do you want?"

I couldn't help it. The last thing I needed was another bright-eyed traitor. Not in this dizzying, disorienting new age.

"Just to apologize," Doverel replied, her voice low, earnest. She fidgeted with her hands, unsure.

I sighed and sat up. She had been kind in her own awkward way—and really, she didn't owe me anything.

"Fine. But hurry. We don't have all day."

"Come on, grab your wand! We're going to be late!" she chirped, halfway out the door already.