[https://i.imgur.com/J5M7UZi.png]

For the second half of the journey, the caravan travelled northwest. Although each night she slept little, Fen didn’t feel tired during the days of traveling. Or perhaps she always felt tired, but it had become the norm.

After leaving Reiss Bridge, Fen refused to read her father’s notebook. Not that she didn’t want to; the desire to uncover its secrets, answer its questions, was always there. But to add more questions to the ones she already had in her head would rob her of the little sleep she had left. What would she come across with in Phoelles? She had to be careful of every step she made. Should she trust the people in the Akademia? Whoever killed her father must have been connected to the Akademia, if the poems were any indication. So, Fen decided to plan a small background of herself. To try to distance herself from her father as much as possible. No matter how many times she went over it in her head, she still felt unprepared for what was coming.

However, there was something she would be prepared for. The scholarship exam was the only thing she was certain would happen, so Fen decided she was going to ace it. As she wouldn’t read her father’s notebook, she resorted to studying. She was getting the Full Scholarship. For the rest of the days of traveling, if she wasn’t dwelling on what would happen, Fen had her head inside her textbooks. She hoped the books she had were enough. They certainly seemed enough, covering every field the Akademia could evaluate her on. Physics, algebra, crystallography, calculus, balancing, metallurgy… She had one of each. It should be enough, she thought. To save paper, Fen decided to do all her studying in her head. It helped her train her mental arithmetics, keeping long equations in her head as she solved them. This helped her with her balancing as well. She stretched her limits, trying to do harder and harder shifts. She was getting the Full Scholarship.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

The downside to her constant studying –and lack of sleep– was that she lost track of time. For how long had they been traveling now? Had it been a day or three? Since when had the Great Bay returned to the view? Had they stopped at an inn yesterday or the night before?

“Tomorrow we’ll reach Phoelles,” Ledwig said.

Fen looked up from the campfire, then at her hands. Her rough wooden bowl was still full. A week had passed since leaving Reiss Bridge. There still was half a day of traveling left, yet Phoelles felt a single step away from her.