The Crickhowell School For The Muses - Plot & Excerpts
She rolled over on her lumpy mattress on the floor, trying to remember where she was and how she had gotten there. She squeezed her eyes shut and watched a muddle of images swim through her brain: a blindfold; a clattering wagon; a woman with a foreign accent; a book slamming closed, sealing her dark future. The knock outside her room grew louder and quicker. Awen opened her eyes, taking in her new surroundings—the room the size of a closet, the tiny window at the end opposite the door, the white walls and the white ceiling, and the dusty floor in a light-colored wood. The room was empty except for the mattress on which she lay, and a small sign on the door. Awen knelt and squinted to see it. There were words in black script centered on the parchment sign, but she could not make them out. She rose from the mattress to inspect it more closely, the door now jangling in its frame, and read the command: Learn, but seek not too far. For you shall aid in the seeking of others.
What do You think about The Crickhowell School For The Muses?
