Prologue
Today is the day, Malora thought as she stared out her window.
The sun slowly rose over the small village of Humlock, bringing with it the dawn of a new day. Warm sunlight drove away the morning fog, replacing the cool, damp air of the night.
Malora was watching her nearest neighbor feed his chickens when the doves began to sing their morning choirs. Their song intertwined with gobbles and clucks creating the calmest of alarms.
She exhaled sharply and fell back onto her bed, her amber gaze tracing the ceiling.
In her hand was a neatly folded, slightly crinkled paper. She opened it and held it up, re-reading the words once again.
It is with great honor and privilege that we inform you, Malora, of your acceptance into Vargrath Academy.
Her eyes lingered on the words, her stomach knotting at the sight.
A deep sigh escaped her as she brought the paper to her chest. She looked around her room—bare walls and empty shelves, nothing to signify that it was her room at all.
Footsteps echoed from the other side of the door. She quickly swung her feet off the bed and just as the first knock came, she opened it.
“Malora, I was just about to wake you,” her father said.
He was a large and burly man, with a handlebar mustache hiding his mouth.
“Are you ready?”
Malora nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line.
“All right then, get changed.”
“Feroth!” Her mother called from their room.
“I’m coming.” Her father turned around, his pointed tail brushing past her face as he walked away.
Malora closed the door and looked at an assortment of boxes nestled in the corner of the room. Opening one up, she pulled out clothes and a brush.
Quickly, she changed out of her pajamas and into the new clothes. Grabbing the brush, she combed over her raven-blue hair, her hands expertly maneuvering around her bright cream-colored horns.
Why hadn’t I spent all morning doing this instead of just lying down? She asked herself bitterly.
With her hair untangled, she placed her pajamas and brush back in the box before picking it up and leaving her room. Her footsteps echoed through the hallways of the house. Much like her room, the home was barren—only furniture too big to move filling the space.
When she stepped out of the house, the fresh morning air enveloped her, her tail curling from the gentle breeze. She approached her father, who was loading a large, covered wagon.
“Where do I put this?” Malora asked.
“I’ll find somewhere to put it.” Her father took the box from her arms and placed it within the cart.
“Do you want me to get the rest of my things?”
He nodded, and Malora returned to her room. Several trips later and she finally emptied it.
She lingered in the space for a moment, taking in the atmosphere. Her lips flickered into a smile, but only for a second. She turned around and closed the door to her room for the last time.
She boarded the cart and waited for her family to get moving. The sun was rising higher, and with it, the heat grew more intense.
Her mother joined her in the wagon, along with a pale-skinned baby that she held against her bosom.
“Good morning, Malora.” Her mother smiled. She had matching raven-blue hair, though hers was far longer. When she turned, her horns caught the light, shining directly into Malora’s eyes.
“Say good morning to your sister,” her mother said, looking at her baby boy.
A slight smile played across Malora’s lips. “Good morning, Degen.”
“So, are you excited?”
Malora shrugged. “I guess so.”
“Aris, did you leave anything in the room?” Her father interrupted.
“The room’s empty,” Aris replied.
“Okay.” Feroth sighed as he looked back at the house. “Then I guess that’s everything.” He circled the cart and sat down in the front. Taking the reins, he flicked them, and the wheels rolled forward.
“New city, new home…” Aris looked at her daughter, their amber eyes meeting. “New school… You’re gonna tell me that doesn’t excite you?”
“I don’t know.” Malora averted her gaze.
“You’ll be excited to get off this cart, I can tell you that much.” Her father chuckled from the front.
“How long are we going to be traveling again?” Malora asked.
“Your father said it’s a two-week trip.”
“On horseback.” Her father added. “We have a full cart this time around, so don’t be surprised if it takes longer.”
“Please don’t take longer,” Aris groaned.
“I’ll try my best, but I can’t make any promises.”
Malora looked out from the large opening at the back. She watched as the house she had lived in for the past fifteen years grew smaller and smaller.
She tried her best to remember its details. The outdoor forge her father worked in. The wilted flower bed her mother grew for potion ingredients. Even the slightly angled front door she always struggled to open.
She watched it shrink until there was nothing left to see. With a heavy breath, she leaned her back against the wall of the cart.
This is for the best, she told herself.
Even so, she didn’t fully believe it.
To be continued…
