Winter set in swiftly. Winters in Lirael were never bitterly cold, but a heavy, pervasive dampness hung in the air. Torrential rain would spill across the city for days on end, shrouding the skyline in a soft, silver-gray mist.
My formal language classes began. There were twelve of us in the program, hailing from every corner of the globe. There was a young man from Zorvada studying design, an art student girl from Moravia, and a pair of sisters from Krasnia who sat together every lesson, diligently correcting each other's accent.
At first, anxiety gripped me tightly. Whenever the instructor called my name to answer a question, my throat would instantly constrict, and my voice would tremble violently.
Yet my classmates radiated nothing but warmth and patience. No one ever rushed me, and
