I came up with the title sometime in middle school, but couldn’t figure out what to do with it then. So I saved it up until something came to me. Vayag is much more virtuous than I am. If I could be instantly better at tennis, I’m not sure I could resist.
The Book of Locked Doors
The book was bound in pale, crinkled leather and rough thread the color of massacres, and Suzuen Vayag carried it in an inner pocket of her coat as a matter of course. Her sister Kereyag had written it in gunfire and witchfire and hellpyre smoke, on the stray cold morning of her death. The least Vayag could do was keep it safe.