My back aches, each movement a reminder of today’s grueling defense arts class. My head throbs, as if my skull could split open at any moment. Heavens help me if we’re in for more sessions like that. I suppress a groan as Roman walks beside me, his usual attentive self.

"Do you need help with your backpack, Mikrös?" Roman’s voice cuts through my fatigue. We’re heading to the library after our fourth and last class of the day, which couldn’t have ended soon enough. I barely managed ...