Bright Battle Academy was a different place at night. Some streets were lit by the ghost glow of spirit orbs, others by long-burning lanterns, still others by nothing so immediately identifiable. The sky above was dark and clear, stars shining down in their thousands, the moon a dominating presence, pale blue and cut through with black. In places the rooftops were flat and close together, wide boards laid down to make movement easier for those of a certain persuasion, in others there were narrow alleys and doorways to hide in, small places offering temporary sanctuary from those who claimed the night as their own.

Then there was the elven quarter, Fauxgreen, the streets many and winding beneath strings of coloured firefly lights. Here there were fewer places to hide, amidst the great trees shaped into houses and shops, upon the broad commons of lush grass and sparkling streams, within the veritable forests of shaped trees that formed large dormitories, many lights burning within; elves enjoyed the night.

Further still was Everglim, home to neatly paved streets and pleasant wooden houses in the Nimbian style; tall, steep roofs of interlocking shingles, no doubt brightly coloured. Here there were herb gardens and workshops, empty at this hour, silent, yet still near-thrumming with potential.

This was a place of deep magic, and it made Nala's scalp itch.

Still, she took the time to locate the cottages, scattered among gardens and greenhouses, and she found the one with a faintly glowing heart sigil upon the door, and she marked its location in her mind.

This was not her intended destination, however, merely a diversion. Nala made her way through battle quarter, the streets straight and long, the buildings square and dull, the arenas open and many, walking and walking and walking until she found her way truly blocked.

For a long time she stared up at the outer wall of Bright Battle Academy. It was taller than any wall she'd seen in her life. Even to see to the top she had to stand back, not just a few paces but near half a street. It was smooth, too, the huge blocks of stone it was formed of offering few handholds.

Nala walked on, following the wall, ignoring the flashes of darkness-within-darkness she glimpsed as she went, but there were no weaknesses, no gates...

And yet here was a place where the wall crumbled, here was a place where tough dark roots forced their existence into the tiniest of cracks, and Nala silently thanked them as she climbed, upwards and upwards and upwards, nothing in her mind but the next handhold, the next step, until she found herself with no next handhold, no next step, just blank wall stretching up above and no choice but to climb all the way back down...

So she did. Again she followed the wall, on and on and on, the moon her companion, the stars her allies, until she found a place where the tough dark roots were winning their war of survival, where a great vertical crack split the wall enough for Nala to wedge herself into, to use as she climbed, up and up and up until her arms ached and her breathing came hard, and still further up, and up, and there was the final handhold, the final step, the top of the wall, and she reached up to take hold—

Nala's hand slipped. No; it slid. She gritted her teeth, anchored herself firmly, and tried again.

This time there was no doubt, no other explanation; the wall did not end where it ended. It kept going, an invisible barrier extending above, how far Nala did not know. Perhaps all the way to the stars.

For a time she stayed there, at the top of the wall that was not its end, then she found a good foothold, and another, and she half-pulled and half-pushed herself up so that at least her eyes were above the top of the wall, so that at least she could see what was beyond...

But there was only the dark night sky. Only stars.

The climb down took longer than the climb up. By the time Nala stood upon the ground again she could barely feel her arms and her legs were numb from exhaustion.

Still she walked on. Still she followed the wall. She was only vaguely aware of her surroundings, focused upon this barrier, this hateful obstacle keeping her from freedom, if only the wall wasn't there, if only there was a way over it, under it, through it, if only it would end—

The wall ended.

Just like that.

No sloping off, no gradual crumbling; here the wall was, there the wall wasn't.

Nala didn't laugh at what greeted her, beyond the wall's end. She had never laughed in her life, not once. Now didn't seem a particularly good time to start.

Instead she just stared.

And stared.

And stared.

And, eventually, sat.

So the dawn found her, sitting on the grass near the beach they called waveless, because there was nothing to cause waves, no surf, no ocean; the sand simply dropped off into nothing.

Bright Battle Academy was found on Bright Battle Island, a place that was unique.

The only flying island in all the world...