Trapped?

The door before Lysandra was ancient, carved from oak that held centuries past, and as she received a cue from the Headmaster to enter, she pushed it open…

Whoosh~

The room beyond seemed to breathe a welcome.

The Headmaster's chamber was a sanctuary of knowledge, walls lined with shelves that groaned under the weight of countless tomes.

The air was thick with the musk of parchment and the hint of ink.

In the center stood a grand desk, its surface a map of the world, with ley lines and psychic currents traced in delicate gold leaf.

Master Therion, the Headmaster, was a figure that commanded respect.

His hair was a cascade of silver, showing his old age to everyone. Though he seemed to be capable of having a better appearance with his Arcane Arts, he decided to stay in this state as he guided his students in the Academy.