Same year. Eighth month - Citar.

  A giant snake is in front of my home. Its six feathered wings, spaced at equal intervals, are weirdly folded as it lies half-coiled on the ground. It doesn't constantly move its tongue in and out as its much smaller animal cousins would.

  My parents have a mixture of feelings, they know we will see each other once every forty days and we had plenty of months to say goodbye but I am to be raised away from home on Academy grounds—an unknown pce I never visited and only heard and read about.

  Mom packs me a little too many spare clothes, food, a few tokens of home are thrown in, and even some dried beef. All in all, I'm fairly certain I have enough supplies in my satchel to traverse the Wastes and back.

  ''Anna, remember what we talked about,'' my mother whispers in my ear as she hugs me.

  Father has trouble standing. ''Whatever happens, come back to us girl.'' He seems to have difficulty breathing, and my mother puts her firm hand on his shoulder. It helps, slightly improving his bearing. My father hugs me and after looking at me one st time with brown watery eyes he turns to leave. Without saying another word he trudges toward the house. Father is afraid that if he looks back he won't be able to let me go.

  ''John!'' My mother reaches toward him to make him stay but then relents. He slowly closes the door behind him, unable to even gnce back. He seemed so pale.

  ''Go, girl.'' My mother's face is made of the same stone as many statues of the First Daughter Theia are. Nevertheless, forcing those words out seems to have taken a lot out of her.

  I will not make this more difficult than it needs to be. Besides, Aleera is already occupying the front saddle. I trace my fingers over the triquetra pendant Mother gave me. Feigning not to hesitate, I turn to stride toward the Winged.

  As I sit in the saddle behind, Aleera dismounts and pces a thick belt around my tunic to which she then attaches multiple straps connected to the saddle. She checks the bonds numerous times, yanking the straps and readjusting the belt.

  ''Thank you hallowed sister,'' I say.

  Aleera grins at that. ''Just sister or Sister Welmo is fine.'' She didn't talk much with my parents and I'm thankful to her for giving us a decent amount of time for the final goodbyes. She is wearing a simple brown woolen tunic, with bck gloves and a darker shade turquoise scarf with rolled edges and loose weave—despite the mild weather. ''Hold the horn with both hands at all times.''

  I simply nod.

  ''And do not kick with your legs, just enjoy the view.'' Her confident voice is reassuring.

  I take a deep breath. ''I understand, sister.''

  Aleera grabs the reins and secures herself in her own saddle—she has only one bag with her, firmly tied to the side. After I attach the satchel to the right of mine, her heels tap two times at the snake's fnks, and it moves its rge sinewy body slowly upwards while unfurling long narrow wings.

  As we are about to take off a sense of dread takes me but not for the fear of heights. Since around my ninth year, I have rarely left my home. When I was very little there was a boy about my age that liked to mock my red hair and would often pull it. Eventually, I had enough so I punched him and accidentally broke a few of his ribs. After telling my mom what happened I wasn't allowed to py with other kids anymore. Luckily for me, the boy cimed he fell, ashamed to admit a girl beat him up. She nicely instructed me to always be gentle and to not speak of what truly happened to anyone ever. Mom can be very convincing but it wasn't her stern hand that frightened me the most, it was the look in her eyes. She would tell me, ''If you want to keep a secret say it in a graveyard.'' I never saw that type of fear in her before that—deep and terrifying.

  I will be so close to them and yet in another world. I am scared.