After that commotion at the training grounds, everyone returned to their respective practices or lessons.
At least, that was what Instructor Gord ordered.
He had said it in that firm, unquestionable tone of his—"Continue your classes. Don't mind what happened." As if what we'd just witnessed was nothing more than a minor inconvenience, a brief disruption in the academy's perfectly ordered routine.
But for my class, it wasn't that easy.
The air itself felt heavier as we regrouped, the usual clatter of wooden swords and shouted drills replaced by an uneasy silence. Even when people moved, it was sluggish, half-hearted, like everyone was dragging an invisible weight behind them. No one laughed. No one joked. No one pretended this was just another ordinary training day.
