Sarah and her family stood at the gate, waving goodbye to John as he embarked on his journey. It was a tradition in their world, a rite of passage that marked the end of childhood and the beginning of something greater. John's pack was slung across his shoulders, and though his steps were confident, there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes as he turned to wave one last time.

Sarah's father, Michael, turned to her as the dust settled on the path. "It will soon be your turn to embark on your journey," he said, his tone both proud and stern. "Have you chosen your destination?"

Sarah hesitated but masked it with a confident smile. "Not yet," she replied.

In this world, children were expected to decide their destiny by the time they turned eighteen. It wasn't just a decision about where they wanted to go—it was a choice that determined the next phase of their life. Once they chose their destination, they left home, embarking on a journey filled with trials and uncertainties. Most returned triumphant, stronger and wiser. Some didn't return at all.

Sarah was seventeen, her eighteenth birthday fast approaching. Her older brother, John, had just turned eighteen last month, and now it was his turn to face the unknown. Sarah was the only daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Mandell. She was a confident girl with a fiery determination in her eyes. Tall, dark-skinned, and undeniably beautiful, Sarah was often the center of attention, though she seemed uninterested in the admiration she received.

She had lied to her father. The truth was, Sarah had known her destination since she was ten years old. It was a choice she held close to her chest, unwilling to share it even with her family. She wasn't ready for their questions, their doubts, or their expectations.

As the family turned to head back inside, Sarah lingered for a moment. She watched the path where her brother had disappeared, wondering if she'd see him again. Her fists clenched slightly as she whispered to herself, "My turn will come soon. And I'll be ready."

Later that evening, Sarah joined her three closest friends—Leo, Newton, and James. The four of them were trainees at the academy, where they prepared for their future journeys. Their training was rigorous, teaching them everything from survival skills to the history of the paths they might one day take.

After school, they often gathered at one another's houses to talk about their dreams and fears. That day, they decided to meet at James' house.

James, ever the gracious host, prepared cups of tea for everyone and invited them to sit outside under the evening sky.

"So," James began as he passed the cups around, "your brother left on his journey this morning?"

"Yeah," Sarah replied, her voice steady, though her mind drifted back to the image of John's departing figure.

"I can't wait to embark on my own journey," Newton said with a grin. "I wonder what it'll be like."

From behind them, a small voice chimed in, "How long does the journey last?"

They turned to see Aaron, James' ten-year-old brother, standing nearby. His curious eyes darted between the older kids.

Leo smiled and answered, "Well, some people's journey can take up to thirty years. Some, ten years. Others, just six months. It all depends on the path you choose and the challenges you face."

Aaron's eyes widened. "Is it dangerous?" he asked.

Before anyone could respond, Newton spoke up dramatically. "Of course it's dangerous! Most people don't make it back alive. Some lose their minds. Some get stuck halfway and can't go forward or back.

Aaron's expression faltered, fear creeping into his young features.

"But you're not afraid, are you?" he asked Newton.

Newton puffed out his chest. "Nothing scares me. Besides, if you work hard at your training, you'll reach your destination in one piece."

Leo leaned back with a smirk. "Or," he said, "you could ask for a Seraph."

There was a pause, the lighthearted mood shifting slightly. Sarah, her voice softer now, said, "Nobody has asked for a Seraph in years."

"Anyone who asks for a Seraph is dead," Newton added matter-of-factly.

Aaron frowned. "What's a Seraph?"

Newton rolled his eyes. "What kind of school do you guys go to, anyway?" he muttered.

Leo, ever patient, explained. "A Seraph is like a guardian angel. When you're about to embark on your journey, you invite the angel to protect you. They keep you safe from harm, especially from the fiend who tries to stop people from reaching their destination."

"But we don't ask for Seraphs anymore," Sarah interjected. "The elders forbid it. They said we should rely on our hard work, not on something invisible to guard us."

"Invisible?" Aaron asked, his curiosity piqued.

"That's right," Leo confirmed. "You can't see it, but you just have to believe it's there."

Aaron looked uncertain, his young mind wrestling with the concept. Sarah noticed and laughed softly. "Don't worry, Aaron. Just work hard, and you'll be fine."

Newton shot her a sly glance. "Easy for you to say, Miss 'Top of the Academy.'"

"It's not my fault I worked hard," Sarah retorted confidently. "Besides, that's why I'm more likely to survive than any of you."

James stood up, cutting through their banter. "Alright, that's enough. Let's review today's studies," he said, then turned to Aaron. "Take the cups inside."

Aaron nodded and scurried off, leaving the group to settle back into their discussion.