Fractured

01. Passages

The damp air clung to Anya like a second skin, the scent of peat and heather a constant reminder of the miles separating her from home. Fourteen days on the road, and the novelty of Anya's journey had evaporated faster than morning mist. Each day blurred into the next, a relentless march. Yet, even Anya had to admit that the landscape held a subtle magic. 

Occasionally, wisps of fog defied the wind, swirling into fleeting shapes before vanishing without a trace. In sheltered valleys, nestled amongst the usual wildflowers, bloomed strange, iridescent plants. Their petals, shimmering with an almost imperceptible inner glow, stood out in stark contrast to the muted greens and browns that surrounded them. As Anya bent down to touch one, she could've sworn she saw it pulse in a rhythm that mirrored her own heartbeat. It was a brief encounter, but a potent reminder that magic, here, was woven into the very fabric of the land, waiting to be discovered. She could feel it growing stronger as she neared the central provinces.

The first week of the journey had offered a brutal introduction– wind-battered cliffs jutting up against a churning sea. Anya had followed the coastline to ensure she didn't get lost. By the end of each day her face was white with dried salt from sweat and ocean water. When she reached the outer province of Windshear Ridge, she turned inland to head for the centermost province of Sunveil, her destination. The second week brought lush, rolling hills shrouded in a perpetual downpour. Gone were the dramatic vistas, replaced by a monotonous green tapestry dotted with the occasional patch of trees. There was nothing but the stars to reassure Anya that she was going the right way, and she was never the best at celestial navigation.

The Passage was supposed to be an equalizer for prospective students of Elderwood Academy, a way to strip away privilege and test one's resolve. From wherever you were, you were meant to make your way to the school on foot, sans magic. It aimed to foster an appreciation for the gifts of magic by experiencing its absence– a daunting experience for teenagers who had lived their whole lives wrapped in the comforts of everyday enchantments. Spells to light their rooms with a perfectly soft glow, keep their clothes perpetually clean and mended, materialize meals at the flick of a wrist, even conversations across vast distances were a mere thought away with the right communication stones. For most, the muted sounds of a rainy countryside stood in stark contrast to the constant hum of magic throughout their lives. 

As per the rules of the Passage, Anya had been avoiding populated areas, though she knew many other students would disregard the mandate. Even temporarily cut off from magic, the other journeying students could afford a hot meal and a dry bed, and they could pay the added fee to make sure the workers stayed quiet about it. Anya figured she was on thin ice as it was, and wouldn't have risked it even if she had more than a few copper pieces in her pocket. Instead, Anya was experiencing the Passage as intended. And whereas most students lived within several days' hike of Suncrest, the city that played host to Elderwood, Anya lived just about as far as one could get. 

Her once-crisp cloak now clung to her, the dampness seeping through to chill her to the bone. Every once in a while, Anya would take refuge in an abandoned barn or under a sturdy overhang, but with barely enough time to get to Elderwood in the first place, she could never rest for long. The journey wasn't an unfamiliar hardship for Anya, though. Here, the rolling green hills and endless drizzle were merely a swap for the crashing waves and blustering winds of her home at Dunhaven. 

It was hard to believe days had past since she choked out a goodbye to her family. Her parents, weathered and worn like the cliffs themselves, had stood by the rickety wooden gate, their faces a mix of worry, pride and hope. The official who came to ensure Anya's timely departure, a man whose crimson robes seemed almost obscene against the grey backdrop, had tossed a meager pouch of coppers at her feet– barely enough for a single night's lodging in the city. It was still more than Anya had ever carried. Wiping her brow, Anya pushed down the feeling that always started creeping up her throat at the thought of her family. Not yet, she told herself. It's not time to feel that yet.