The Academy certainly looked different from the rest of the city. It was unlike the docks, whose wide streets were full of two-story houses made of stone and wood. It was unlike the elven quarters, which blended into the forest almost seamlessly. Unlike the center, which mixed those two styles, and unlike the druid groves and fields, which gave off an odd aura of being wild and cultivated at the same time.

No, the Academy was entirely different. There were barely any trees here, and the ones that were planted were regular-sized, unlike the giants that housed most of Sirfain's elves. Instead, there were white stone spires, large enough to rival even the grandest of the forest's own. Auxiliary buildings were dispersed between the spires: greenhouses, laboratories, classrooms. The grounds were spacious, and the buildings were spread out far away from each other to provide more breathing room. The pathways were lined with stone, but on a sunny day one could usually find more than a few elves lounging on the carefully-kept lawn.

This was the sight Aycherr set his eyes on when he came to the Academy the next day.