[across the threshold, there's no less of a sense of loneliness than outside. Devoid of life, the halls feel both grand and imperious, though all things considered? Olivine seems quite at peace here.

For someone as fond of traps and puzzles as Sunday, parts of the mystery will unravel easily—hanging items with just a touch of scraped stone at their edges, small imperfections where a rock isn't quite secured in its wall. No traps, incidentally, but certainly secrets.]

... to be honest, I'm not sure of there's somewhere specific we should go to find our way. The library is just up those stairs, and the dorms are on the upper east balcony. All of the halls on his floor lead to classrooms.

[but it's definitely a familiar feeling, the way the air seems just a little tense, as unbalanced essence mingles with dream bubbles and the priest alike. His heartbeat picks up a little, not helped by the suggestion to hold his hand. There's no sense in being skittish in this place, he knows that—even if it's blasphemy to even consider half of the thoughts always floating in his mind.]

Ah—alright.

[His hand is warmer that average, curling delicately over Sunday's. Monsters... how nostalgic.]

If that's the case, you needn't worry over me. My specialty is healing magic, but I have extensive experience in driving back monsters and bandits.