The Festival of Light

One

Chapter One

The harsh morning sun glared through the upstairs window, forcing its way into Winona's closed eyelids. The previous void filled with colours as dry lips parted with a groan of protest to the persistent light. It was warm. Too warm in comparison to previous mornings - an indication of the coming change of season. The winter had been long and plentiful that year, its fresh breeze had lingered through the maze of buildings weeks after the rain had subsided. Winona was sad to see it go. She loved the cold. This warmth was thick and dense like a woollen blanket. Its heat soaked through and into the walls, eliminating all remnants of the previous chill. Leaving steam in its place.

Winona stretched out, searching through the folds of the duvet to grasp the small device that sat, teetering on the edge of the mattress. Pulling it close, she squinted through sleep-filled eyes at the numbers displayed on the screen. It was early. Not early enough try to ignore the sun's gaze and fall back into oblivion but too early to make the usual haste to get ready. It was a nuisance. Winona was not often an early riser. It was not uncommon for her to be moments away from running out her room in the morning, pulling on mismatched garments, heading out of the house with a brush in one hand and a breakfast bar in the other. But today was different. Today marked the start of the annual three-day celebration of The Festival of Light. Winona couldn't go back to sleep if she tried. And she tried.

For the other occupants residing in Block A17, the morning was business as usual. Mr and Mrs Grace sat perched in the kitchen, humming nonsensicals with steaming cups of coffee attached to eager palms. Mrs Grace, the splitting image of her daughter – tall, with long and very straight chestnut hair, glanced from her tablet in mild surprise at the movements heard from the room above, pen dripping from the lazy fingers to scratch delicate lines onto the folder it rested upon. Unlike her daughter, Mrs Grace was the type of person who you would never catch sleeping in. Her mind buzzed around too quickly to be stuck out of consciousness for too long. Winona often joked that her mother was a robot – charge her with a cup of coffee and she could go on and on for hours. As the head of the city's volunteer council, as well as the secretary of interbeing relations, Mrs Grace made a name for herself quickly in her community. This was something she talk with her daughter about a lot. Mr Grace, who was thin, pale, and eagle eyed, had not shown the identical surprise in his daughter early rise. He was too focused on his own tablet, fingers moving frantically over the screen. Eyebrows furrowed with intensity as he scrutinised the numbers displayed. Like his wife, Mr Grace was successful in his position as the Head of Scientific Operations, something which made them both very proud. The Grace family was one of great prominence in the city. Something Winona had always been brought up to continue.

"Morning sweetheart," Mrs Grace chimed as her daughter entered the kitchen, eagerly searching herself for the sweet release of caffeine. It was a bad habit, she knew that. But the brown liquid always made her feel refreshed after sleep – or, anytime of the day, really.

"Mornin mum," Winona replied "Dad, you're running late"

"Morning to you too Win," Mr Grace huffed. "And I had a late start today. I thought I would see you guys off before you left for your last day at The Centre."

"Its an exciting day Winnie! I remember my result day!"

Winona smiled at her parents nervously as she took her seat beside her mother, propping the mug down on the spare room of the table. This had been the number one topic of conversation in the household for the previous year. Result day. Being in her final year of The Learning Centre, Winona had just finished the final months of testing – exams, in-school practicals, and evaluations, in order to determine her place in the hierarchy of society. Today, Winona would finally find out which pathway of life she would be able to follow. Something she had prepped her entire life for.