Ashok moved through the silent paths, his footsteps steady as he ventured farther from the main campus, the bustling life of the Academy fading behind him.
By now, he had gone so far that there wasn't a single student in sight—just the vast openness of the quiet night, wrapped in the soft glow of the moon above.
The air was crisp, cool, untouched by the distractions of the day.
Lifting his gaze, Ashok noticed it—a vast plume of gray smoke, curling into the sky in thick waves, released from an unseen source ahead.
Yet something felt... off.
There was no scent of burning coal, no acrid sting of smoke in the air—nothing that should have accompanied such immense emissions from a forge.
And even stranger—the smoke didn't linger.
Instead, it vanished at a certain height, dispersing as though swallowed by some unseen force.
'Miracles of Magic,' Ashok mused, watching the impossible unfold before his eyes.
