Lyra twirled around the field as the sun set in a blaze of red-orange glory. It sent light refracting out in all directions, the warm beams illuminating her as dusk settled all around.

She’d done it.

She’d finally, truly done it.

She’d run away.

Now, spinning around the field of wildflowers, things as wild as she was, she felt dizzyingly light. Free. As if at any moment she could take a breath and dissolve onto the last streams of light, onto the cool wind that brought with it the first hints of fall. She felt as if, if she let go of gravity, she could be picked up and carried off at any moment.

If only she could.

She had no idea where she was; all she knew was that she was finally far from the orphanage. She was intoxicated by the freedom the sunset brought, its ethereal glow. She couldn’t bring herself to think of the finer details of her escape just yet.

But eventually dusk had to dawn, and it brought with it the dark she had been avoiding. The dark came with it’s friends; questions of practicality that snuffed out Lyra’s earlier sweet, simple ecstasy. Questions she knew she had to answer but didn’t even know how to start.

Lyra stood in the stillness of the field. All the brief, beautiful light was gone, now replaced by hundreds of stars that gleamed dimly in the night sky. It wasn’t much, but it was just enough to illuminate her path forward.

Lyra took a deep breath and filled her lungs with the quiet of the night. She found the hope hidden in that place deep within her, hidden from all those who had attempted to destroy it, and clinged to it once more.

She had a feeling she’d need it more than ever in the days to come.

Then she picked up her foot and continued on her journey to nowhere.