After the students were dismissed from the Eastern Grand Hall, the entire second-year class moved toward the infirmary in a slow, uneven tide of exhaustion. Some walked with their own strength, others leaned on friends, and a few were practically carried by classmates who looked only slightly less miserable than they did.

The infirmary staff had clearly been prepared for them, because the moment the second years arrived, healers, assistants, and senior medical instructors began separating them according to severity. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

Those with deep injuries, unstable Myst flow, fractured bones, poison exposure, or signs of severe depletion were taken in first, while those with lighter wounds were made to sit and wait on benches, cots, or even the floor. No one complained too loudly. After seven days in Nalim, even the infirmary floor seemed more comfortable than most places they had slept.

Liam was checked more thoroughly than most, though not dramatically enough to draw attention. The healers noticed lingering strain in his ribs, bruising across his back, traces of severe Myst depletion, and the faint instability left behind from forcing his body through too many extremes. They treated what they could, gave him strict instructions about rest, and warned him not to cast anything more than minor spells for at least a few days unless absolutely necessary.

Charlotte received treatment for the remaining cuts and muscle damage from her own battles, though she spent most of the time complaining that the infirmary sheets were too plain and that the academy owed her scented oils after making her spend a week in Nalim.

Dylan looked as if he nearly fell asleep while a healer rewrapped his side, and Max was scolded for having ignored several injuries that should have been treated days earlier.

Asher remained quiet throughout his treatment, while Sheila and Ariana were examined with the same care as the others, both carrying the exhaustion of their own survival behind more composed expressions.

Once treatment was finished, the second years scattered to refresh themselves in whatever way suited them best. Some rushed toward the baths the instant they were released, while others went back to their dorms first to change out of ruined clothing and let the reality of being back inside the academy settle over them.

The hallways briefly filled with the strange contrast of battered students moving through familiar spaces, passing polished walls, clean floors, and academy decorations that now felt almost unreal after Nalim’s forests, rivers, ruins, and unstable air.

For many of them, the simple act of washing dirt, blood, and smoke from their skin felt like the first true proof that the assessment was over. Warm water, clean clothes, treated wounds, and the absence of demonic pressure did more for morale than any speech could have.

By the time many of the second years made their way to the cafeteria later, the academy had already adjusted around their return. Food had been prepared in large portions, clearly meant for students who had spent days eating poorly or barely eating at all.

The moment the second years entered, the cafeteria’s atmosphere shifted. The first years, who had already finished their three-day assessment in Vlardia days earlier, turned to look at them with open curiosity.

Some stared at the visible bandages, the exhausted faces, and the way several second years carried themselves as if sitting down had become the greatest dream in the world. There were whispers among the first years, some impressed, some intimidated, and some clearly trying to imagine what kind of assessment could leave the second years looking like that.

There were no third years around.

That absence did not go unnoticed. It could only mean they were still undergoing whatever assessment the academy had designed for them, or perhaps something different entirely. No one among the second years had enough energy to speculate for long, though a few muttered that if the third-year assessment was worse than Nalim, then the academy had truly decided to make suffering an educational philosophy.

Liam and his group eventually gathered at one of the long cafeteria tables, where the noise of food trays, tired laughter, and half-dramatic retellings filled the space around them.

Sheila sat with Ariana nearby, still carrying the strange quiet weight of having returned to rank one, while Max listened with one elbow on the table and the look of someone already halfway asleep. Dylan ate like a man trying to apologize to his body for the past week, and Charlotte looked almost reborn after washing properly and getting real food in front of her.

Liam sat quietly among them, eating at a steady pace, present enough to follow the conversation but withdrawn enough that anyone paying close attention could tell his mind had not fully left Nalim.

The group talked through their experiences in pieces, each one giving parts of what they had endured without trying to turn the entire meal into a full report. Dylan described the tree hole, bitter roots, the ravine, and the strange demon he claimed looked like a nightmare someone forgot to finish drawing.

Max spoke about his rocky zone, the weapon switches he had been forced to make, and how his bracer had nearly cracked under repeated impacts. Ariana explained parts of the ruined structure she had navigated, especially the way certain stones seemed to store unstable Myst and react to spells if touched too carelessly.

Sheila gave a calmer account of her frozen river region, the shifting terrain, and the way she had learned to conserve her affinities rather than constantly combine them. Asher said little, only answering when directly addressed, and even then his words were short.

Charlotte, however, stayed true to herself.

When it became her turn, she leaned into the story of her final days with Liam as if she had been waiting for an audience worthy of hearing it. She described the hidden outcrop as though it had been a secret lovers’ retreat rather than a cramped survival cave, spoke of Liam preparing meat for her like a devoted caretaker, and mentioned him drying her hair with such exaggerated softness that Dylan nearly choked on his food.

She made sure to include that she had carried him back from the eastern forest, but somehow framed it as part heroic rescue and part deeply intimate bonding experience, adding details that were either stretched far beyond truth or had never happened at all. Liam corrected almost none of it, partly because he knew it would only encourage her and partly because he did not have the energy to fight a losing battle against Charlotte’s imagination.

The effect on Sheila and Ariana was immediate enough for the others to notice.