She was sitting in silence yet again. Just as always she did not have thoughts of anything past or future. She knew she was in the academy for a reason, but, like everything else, she did not know why. She could not remember her life before she came to the academy. All she knew was her name. She did not know her clan name or tribe name.
It was another morning at the academy. Morning mist drifted between the towering trees of Yalami Forest School, weaving through wooden walkways and moss-covered training grounds. Students moved in groups, their voices low, careful. It was just after breakfast, and students were left to roam free, practice weaponry, or read before classes began for the day. The curriculum at Yalami was not as harsh as Galka or Kafaka and Konate, but it was still tedious.
