Page 195 of A University of Betrayal

“And, unfortunately, it didn’t stay that way,” Grace mumbled annoyed from Emely’s bed, and I wondered when she had last slept there. She was usually at home – wherever that was – or – very rarely – on the couch downstairs.

“Youhave toread it!”

Only now did I fully realize what Larissa had pressed into my hand.

I hurried to my bed and threw my brown leather bag into the corner before sinking into the soft pillows and reading the diary entry. When Julian came to me, I had to smile because he seemed to be just as curious as I was.

How could I have missed this?

Revolving Door

Abel Korzeniowski

Beloved Mum,

I think fall has begun. I always feel so strange during fall. It probably has something to do with my powers. They just want to come out, and I really need to get back to Moenia to use them. But you’re sick and even though you’re an Air Quatura, you were still a good teacher. I’m lost without you. There is no other Fire Quatura in the Circle...

Anyway, it rained today. Very hard. I hurried across campus with Diana’s umbrella and had a lot of books under my arm. That was a mistake. There was a stupid slippery spot, and I fell to the ground with a crash.

So, I was lying there more or less soaking wet, the books in my arms protected from the rain. (God forbid I ever drop books on the floor).

“I don’t know anyone who cares that much about their books,” an amused male voice had said, and I had looked up, startled.

You won’t believe it, but it was the kind of book moment I had never really liked. But once you’re in the situation yourself, I think everything is different.

A young man was standing in front of me, both hands in his trouser pockets, and he was only wearing the white shirt of his uniform, black pleated trousers and a black suit jacket, none of the dark green and dark blue sweaters that most people wear here.

But it wasn’t his clothes, it was his amused smile at my clumsy behavior.

Instead of just getting up and walking away, I had stared at him. His clear gray eyes and the short dark blond hair that had fallen down his forehead, wet from the rain... He had looked at me the same way, just as insistently, until he had bent down to me to pick up the umbrella and hold it over us.

“Do you want to stay down here?” he had asked with a grin, and I had immediately turned into a tomato.

I don’t know why, but this young man had left me speechless and embarrassed at the same time. We had been almost alone on campus; me, completely soaked on the ground and him, squatting right in front of me as if I were a small cat.

Somehow, I must have managed to break out of my stupor and take the hand he had held out to me. He had been cold. Very cold. But his warm smile had felt welcoming and warm. And when I had stood again, he had taken off his suit jacket and placed it on top of my books.

“To keep your books intact until you get inside...” I, the idiot I was, had continued to stare at him speechlessly until he had said “But you should put them on afterward, so you don’t get sick,” leaving me standing there with the books wrapped up in his suit jacket and the umbrella and then disappearing somewhere in the east wing... There, where those courtyards with the fountains and stone pillars entwined with ivy are.

It had reminded me of these places, of little fleeting moments that were sometimes overlooked, but which held a little spark of magic if you took the time to look at them.

I must have stood there for a few more minutes, watching the rain turn the meadows a lush green and the sky a dull gray. The emerging sun had shone on the leaves, and everything had glistened.

And at that moment I had known that I had experienced just such a book moment. But then it was gone, and with it the mysterious young man whose name I would probably never know.

The Old Manor

Alessandro Mastroianni, Ano Pi

Irritated, I held the page in my hand.

Those words were beautiful. Alice had fallen in love with someone... and then the diary stopped.

Grace eyed the page in my hand suspiciously. “The very fact that she was a Fire Quatura means she should never have occupied herself with such thoughts.”

“Why?” Julian asked, and Grace blinked at him in indecision before continuing.

“Fire is a rare element, so she must have been very much the center of attention. And secondly, her father probably wasn’t human either, because he probably passed on this gift to her, which would have made her a powerful Quatura and pushed her even further into the focus of the Councils.”