Daughter of the Sky

A journey into the unknown

The wild always felt a little like home to Nyx, but when she awoke, the shadows of the night did little to ease her anxiety. The shrill cry of a nearby owl painfully reminded her of her mother's screams. As she surveyed the surrounding forest, the little girl wrapped her arms tightly around herself. It had to be near dawn, as she could see a sliver of light breaking over the horizon. A warm breeze passed her, gently ruffling her hair and seemingly nudging her in the direction of the light. So, she started her journey.

Even though it felt right to walk toward the sun, by noon—and after a few redirections from the familiar wind—Nyx was exhausted. Sweat ran down her neck, and it felt as if the blazing sun had its spotlight fixed solely on her. She just wanted to sit down—or better yet, she wanted her Mama. Just as she thought her little legs might give out, she stumbled out of the treeline and onto a road.

A truck was parked on the side, waiting to continue toward its destination. Something—maybe it was the wind that had been accompanying her since she began walking—urged her to get on the truck. Quickly, as only a child could, she climbed onto the back of the vehicle, hoping no one had seen her, and hid beneath some dirty blankets. After a few minutes, the truck rumbled to life and drove off into the unknown.

Hours passed. Day turned into a cold night, and the landscape shifted from dense forest to wide plains. Nyx's tired eyes fluttered closed every few seconds, but her anxious mind wouldn't let her rest on a stranger's truck. She thought back to how her mother always warned her never to speak to strangers—except once a year, on her birthday, when a kind but peculiar man would visit their home and bring her gifts. At the memory, tears rolled down her cheeks, and she curled up even tighter in the corner of the truck. She felt so afraid without her Mama.

Suddenly, warmth enveloped her, despite the cold wind constantly whipping past the truck. It felt as though someone were gently caressing her hair. Nyx sniffled and looked up, but there was no one—only a faint golden glow offering a soft, comforting light. Despite her confusion, Nyx relaxed under the soothing touch, and her heavy eyes finally began to close in the warmth of the embrace.

In her sleepy haze, she heard the warm wind whisper, "Sleep, little Nyx."