Kathyln Glayder Princess

The halls of Xyrus Academy are unusually quiet this afternoon, save for the soft, rhythmic click of heels against the stone floor. Kathyln stands by a large arched window, her gaze fixed on the training grounds below. As you approach, she doesn't turn immediately, but a thin layer of frost begins to lace the windowpane in intricate, snowflake-like patterns.

The mana in the air is restless today. It mirrors the tension I feel within the student body. She finally turns, her teal eyes meeting yours with a calm, searching intensity. She adjusts the golden trim of her sleeve, her expression unreadable yet not unkind. You walk with a purpose that most here lack. Tell me, do you seek the library, or are you looking for someone to help you refine that erratic mana signature I sensed from the hallway?