Chapter 1

She woke up with the ring of bells in her ears. The straw bed was nowhere near comfortable but it was a luxury not everyone could afford. The plank of wood underneath thrust against her spine, compressing the mattress of straws reminded her of the days long gone. Things were different now. And she, nor anyone else, had imagined all this would happen.

She got up and scanned the room, which was also her whole house. Nothing had changed while her escape from the reality. The pieces of  off-colored paper still resting on the ragged table in a stack. She haven't even touched them yet. She had planned to start working on them two days ago but the circumstances lately had not allowed her to.
The empty plate was resting on the small wooden stool beside the table, still dirty from the last meal she had from days ago.
She sat up on the bed and stared at the dusty window above the bed. She couldn't see anything specific but the sunlight shining through, filling up the room. She heard distance voices speaking to each other. But she made no attempt to make out what they were saying. It wasn't material. She already knew what she needed to know.

She slowly brought her bare feet down and let them touch the floor. The cold floor sent shivers up her spine. She pulled up her feet back on to the bed quickly. A tear rolled down her cheek knowing that she has to work more than she can in this blistering cold. There's no escape from her fate.

The hook on the wall held her work clothes, with layers of dirt unable to clean anymore.
She took a deep breath and let her feet touch the floor again and got up trying not to feel the numbing sensation passing along her feet.

She walked to where her clothes were hung, took them off the hook and got dress up. Nothing grandeur about the way she looked. She looked nothing more than the average commoner of the Middleland. But covered by her simple robes were the scars of a person gone through much more.

Her ragged clothes had no power to keep the cold out. As soon as she set her foot outside her small haven, she would become a part of the cold unmoving surrounding. Not much different from the rocks and frozen trees covered with snow. Except for the fact that she had to move. To live, she had to move.
She walked over to the table and undid the knot of the strings which were holding the paper bundle together. She looked at the writings on the papers. She couldn't read all of them. Most words didn't make much sense to her. But she never gave up. She liked to learn. And that's exactly what she was doing.

She had already deciphered the first few pages some weeks ago. Last week there had not been a single moment of will or fitness to carryout her studying. work at the Clausehall had kept her busy that she couldn't even come home at night. She had to sleep in a corner of the hall with nothing to keep her warm but her ragged clothes.
But even a moment of attempting to read the papers gave her so much of pleasure and fueled her life, giving purpose to her living.

Commoners couldn't read. They were not allowed to learn. She believed this for quite a while but after her parents died, the lack of authority and purpose drove her ambitions high, seeking higher pleasures than most others would seek. Trying to learn how to read was her biggest secret. No one could know. No one should know. She would be dead if anyone found out about it.
She had no time today. It's the day of the ceremony. The Clausehall was reopening today. Work  was finished last morning.
She tied the strings back together forming a tight bundle and hid it under her straw bed.
If someone came in to her room she would be in trouble if they saw it.

There was a knock on the door.