The cold air bit at my pale face. I didn't mind. You get quite used to it when you live in Kholodnom Mestye. It's name literally means cold place in the uncivil tongue. Its a fitting name considering eight out of the twelve months in a year are bitter cold.
No one any where speaks with their cultures uncivil tongue anymore. Ok maybe the uncivils and the chosen one hundred ninety-three but other than that no one else, except me. My father's one of the one hundred ninety-four chosen. He had a lot of uncivil books laying around so I taught myself how to speak it.
My father rules this region and sometimes goes away to go to a meeting of the Chosen with the Chooser. I wish I could go to one and actually see the Chooser himself. We learn about him in school. Not all the background stuff but about his awesomeness.
Speaking of school I used to be homeschooled but when my mother died of pneumonia three years ago I had to start going. I haven't made many friends. Just the teachers. I like to talk to them. They get things kids my age don't. They tell me I'm really bright, the brightest tenth yearer......
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