Prologue

I always thought I had people to count on . I always imagined when I got in trouble , I could rely on my friends and family . Well , let's not refer to them as family . 

But look at me now - alone , walking around with no clear idea on where to go , where to hide . Wind is running through my hair , leaving my face and the not many , though still existing parts of uncovered skin , red . My wounds are hurting , not as much physically as psychologically . My feet feel paralyzed from the chilly air . My eyes are tearing up . My heart is crushed ...

Behind me , the footsteps drown into muddy puddles , gradually being covered with dust . The town at my back is the last thing I need to see but before completely losing it out of sight , I just throw a glance at it . A little gaze , a last reminder of what I'm leaving once and for all . 

I'm practically crying now but don't care . 'Everything is going to change' I sussur anxiously,'Everything will be fine.'

The last phrase comes from fear , fear of what's coming . Inside of me , though , my heart is bursting , yelling at me , trying to make me realize that everything is not going to be fine . Turning back , memories overwhelm me and I can't keep going . I throw myself against a tree , facing its thick and wide trunk and start sobbing , screaming desperately . One of the worst feelings hits me - weakness . Weakness . I feel weak . I feel unable to do what I want to do . I want to shut up and be strong . 

When I finally reach a state of incapability to breathe , I raise my head , rub my sticky eyes and turn my back to the oak . The sky has changed and from a greyish shade of blue was now red-orange , almost reaching burgundy . A few pink clouds can also be spotted .

Before the view in front of me I can't but feel so small , so unsignificant . The fields are gold ; every single blade of wheat has its own colour , its own glow . The Moon is showing up though there are still a few hours left before night reaches . As if nothing has happened , I smile and start giggling . I let my tired body fall against the tree and slip down to rest . My emotions are vex to explain . It's a mix of depression and irony , or , probably , simply stress and lack of sleep . At some point I forget about it all , and just witness the majestic show the sky has prepared me . Lavender , burgundy , ocra , pink , green , purple , navy blue , black...

Grey . Another gloomy day . I wake up and suddenly realize I had slept in a giant mess of mud , leaves and dirt . My clothes are sloppy and sticky so I take my jacket off . Then my big old dark jumper . After it come my socks , that are soaking wet . My pants are next . Opening my backpack , I realize I had packed my book of spells and training wound with me . Also my talisman - a little stone statue that represents an owl , with many holes through it - and a nostalgic smile appears on my face . Roaming through my stuff , I finally find Olin's jumper and , ignoring all thoughts and regrets it brought up , I throw it on . It's pretty big , to be honest , though not as large as long . It gets to my knees , which is actually good beacause there is not a pair of pants availabe . I put my jacket back on and slip my dirty feet into my leather boots . Standing up , I stretch , zip up my coat and get the backpack on my shoulders . Leaving the soaked garments behind me , I look around . Even though there is no sign of anyone coming , I am convinced I am being looked for . I could make a hiding spell , but they'd feel the magic and find me. 

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As I am walking , voices appear in my head . Although they aren't familiar , what they are saying is not news to me. 'Preparation is key , impetuosity is death .' Is one of the lines they keep repeating. This time , the main voice was female , trembling and vulnerable , as if scared or under pressure . I am used to hearing random phrases in my head -often hard to understand , though I have no idea what they actually mean , why I can hear them or why they exist . They do change , though very rarely . As a kid I could hear them way clarer and louder than I do now and were less repetitve . As soon as I heard them , I used to rush to the Frable and share it with the council . That was the price I had to pay to live in our community . I didn't understand it . They were good people , though , with wrong goals . That's why I made my decision and left .