Two sorcerers in pristine white cloaks shimmered into existence beside East, as if summoned by thought alone. Their presence was quiet but absolute, like moonlight slipping through fog.
Without needing to be told twice, they raised their staves, muttering incantations in low, synchronized tones. Threads of light snaked from the tips of their staves and spiraled into the air, swirling into a circular portal that pulsed and hummed like a heartbeat.
The portal stretched wide, revealing a swirling glimpse of the towering arches and crystalline spires of Moonstone Academy. The passage was stable—ready.
East, however, did not move. He remained stationed like an anchor, eyes fixed on Astra and Cyrus, both now on their feet and seemingly ready to move. The healing was complete.
But something was off.
As the black cloaks peeled away from the two, East's gaze sharpened. For the first time, he saw their faces—no, Cyrus's face. Clean, calm, youthful... unmistakably human.
