MORIA
I awake to the loud swoosh of my curtains being violently pulled apart.
Warm, blinding white light hits my face and for one perfect moment, I am back home and my mom is trying to force me to get up early and go jogging with her.
I mumble something incoherent and turn on my side.
But the bed feels different, and the air smells different.
I am not at home.
I sigh and open my right eye, then my left.
Narrow eyes filled with disinterested judgement and lined by the sharpest blood red eyeliner wings I’ve ever seen, stare down at me.
“You know you’re supposed to start at the Academy today right?”
I frown and squint as the woman in front of me turns around to spread my curtains even further apart.
I’m still groggy which means my brain is processing information slower than an abac
