After their classes wrapped up, Warrin and Liam headed to the canteen to wait for Summer, just like they'd planned.
She strolled over to them, taking her time, and finally settled into the seat across from them. On the table was an onion cheese sandwich, one of the guys had thoughtfully ordered it for her—maybe Liam, maybe Warrin.
As Summer settled in, it was clear she was deep in thought, her mind seemingly miles away.
Liam, mid-bite into his sandwich, noticed and asked with a mouthful, "What's up, Sum?"
"Mars," she said, her voice distant.
"Huh?" Liam blinked, completely baffled.
With a tinge of irritation in her voice, Summer elaborated, "I just don't like him for two main reasons.
First, he replaced Miss Nada, and he's going to be here for the whole semester. Second, he's going to be in the library too, invading my personal space."
"Hey, you don't own the library. Anyone can go there," Liam said. "And seriously, you're so small. How much space do you even need?" He joked, making Summer fume with anger.
Warrin couldn't help but let out a hearty chuckle as he extended a can of Coke towards Summer. "He's only starting. Give the guy a break. Maybe he's not that bad," he quipped, trying to ease the tension in the air.
"I don't know. I just don't feel good about him," Summer replied, her irritation palpable.
"Even though he just arrived... leave it. It's hard to put into words." Everyone who knew Summer was well aware of her deep passion for solitude amidst the comforting embrace of the library's hallowed shelves.
To her, it was a sanctuary, a haven of tranquility that she fiercely guarded. The sudden intrusion of a newcomer had ruffled her feathers, and she was in no mood to offer him any concessions.
In her heart, she had already resolved to dislike him throughout the entire six-month semester.
Warrin, ever the optimist, decided to steer the conversation in a different direction, much to Summer's chagrin. "Leave it," he urged, excitement sparkling in his eyes.
"Liam and I were thinking we'd make the perfect singing band." His suggestion hung in the air like an unexpected punchline. Summer, caught off guard, nearly snorted at the absurdity of it all.
Nearby, Liam struggled to keep a straight face, fighting back a laugh that threatened to escape in Warrin's presence.
"Singing? Forget it," Summer retorted, her dismissal punctuated by a graceful wave of her hand and a disapproving shake of her head.
The library, with its hallowed halls of hushed knowledge, was her undisputed domain, and nothing—not even the tantalizing prospect of a harmonious singing band—could tempt her away from her cherished solitude.
"Noooo, please. We don't want to subject our delicate ears to potential harm. I'll be singing along with Liam," Warrin protested, only to be met with a withering glare from Summer.
"How about this: we'll sing and dance, and you, dear Summer, can be the lyrical genius behind it all. THE WALLS, a group that sets the bar high."
"And what would the extra A and L stand for?" Summer asked.
"WLS: All Lost," Warrin declared. Summer and Liam exchanged looks of utter disbelief, cringing at his terrible taste in naming the group.
"That sounds weird," Summer said.
"Yeah, man, it doesn't sound... blast," Liam added.
"You guys are no fun," Warrin said, throwing them a judging look.
A bemused smile played on Summer's lips as she shook her head. "Also, I don't write lyrics, Warrin."
Warrin, undeterred, leaned in closer, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Oh, but I've delved into your secret diary, my friend."
Summer's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I was just 14 when I wrote those. They're the absolute nadir of my writing talents."
"But we can improve those. Seriously, a nice beat, some choreography, and boom, a music video." Warrin spoke like it was easier than cutting a cake.
"Forget it, Win," Summer said, using the nickname she'd given him.
With an air of mock offense, Summer lowered her head to the table, taking a bite of her onion sandwich while avoiding the inquisitive gazes of both Liam and Warrin.
An uneasy silence settled over them, broken only by the soft rustle of pages and the occasional murmur from others in the canteen.
After a while, Liam and Warrin picked up their conversation again, their animated chatter about final semester plans filling the small alcove.
Summer, the history buff with a meticulously planned future involving art curation and blogging about historical archives, kept her thoughts to herself, savoring the oniony crunch of her sandwich.
Even though Liam wanted to go into music production and Warrin was aiming for a career in dance and singing, they were united by their passion for the world of music and dance.
Two and a half years of grueling college coursework had led them to this moment, with their dreams tantalizingly within reach.
With renewed energy and a clear sense of purpose, the trio eventually returned to their shared psychology class, ready to face the challenges of their final semester.
In the hushed confines of the classroom, the instructor's voice rang out with unwavering clarity, guiding the students through the profound mysteries of human existence and the enigmatic concept of lost souls. Amid this intellectual journey,
Summer diligently chronicled her thoughts in her journal, her pen dancing across the pages in a delicate ballet of ink and paper. The subject of reincarnation was far from ordinary, and as she delved deeper into the topic of reincarnation, an inexplicable sensation gripped her.
This wasn't Summer's first encounter with the idea of reincarnation; she had come across it in various books and whispered tales of old. Yet, society at large dismissed it as mere fiction and fable.
Once, Amarias had been a beacon of belief in reincarnation, but over time, this ancient wisdom had faded into obscurity, disappearing into the annals of forgotten lore.
Summer, like many rational minds, had always hoped that peculiar notions would remain confined to the realms of fantastical tales and bedtime stories. Yet, recent events had only served to deepen her unease.
An unusual dream had visited her in the stillness of the night, leaving her grappling with the unsettling possibility of reincarnation.
"We're delving into this topic today, my dear students, because Amarias is known for its penchant for disseminating unconventional ideas, as I'm sure you're all aware," the instructor continued, drawing the collective focus of the room back to the matter at hand.
His words hung in the air, pregnant with significance. "Who knows," he mused aloud, "perhaps among us, there resides a monarch or queen, reincarnated through the ages." The teacher attempted a joke, but it fell flat, met with a sea of perplexed expressions.
"But it's all false, really. It's our minds playing tricks on us. Sometimes we become so attached to a tale or a person that we start to think like them, and people mistake it for reincarnation."
The utter shock on the faces of the students was palpable, their eyes darting from one to another in a symphony of disbelief. Amidst this tableau of astonishment,
Summer could only sigh in exasperation, flipping through the pages of her notebook as if seeking solace in the familiarity of her scribbles.
Warrin, with a sly sparkle in his eye, passed a folded note under the table, each corner creased with secrecy, to both Summer and Liam.
Summer's eyes widened with curiosity as she delicately unfolded the parchment, her gaze fixating on the bold declaration etched upon it: "If this whole reincarnation jazz is legit," it began,
"I vote Summer as my princess, with Liam playing the role of her protective brother." Liam's response to this daring proposal was a suppressed chuckle, his eyes glinting with mischief, while Summer simply stared at Warrin in disbelief, her raised eyebrow and bemused expression echoing her incredulity.
According to Summer, the rest of the classes went off without a hitch, following their usual orderly routine. It was just another mundane day until the Dean graced them with his presence, prompting a synchronized rise from the students as a gesture of respect, a tradition they adhered to especially as the day's lessons drew to a close.
As the Dean took his position at the head of the room, a palpable hush settled over the students, each awaiting his next words with bated breath.
The Dean gracefully motioned for everyone to retake their seats before addressing the gathered students, his demeanor exuding an aura of dignified authority. As all eyes focused on him, he began to deliver his important announcement, his voice resonating with a sense of purpose.
"Dear students," he began, his tone simultaneously warm and commanding, "today marks a significant development for our music majors. You will be grouped together to embark on your thesis projects. I kindly request all music majors to accompany me to the music hall immediately, where your dedicated instructors will join you shortly."
The anticipation among the music majors was palpable as they eagerly prepared to embark on their academic journey.
The Dean's voice continued to carry across the room, "For our students in other majors, fret not. You will soon be assigned under the guidance of your respective supervisors, either later this week or at the beginning of the next. Until then, feel free to leave the campus, except for our music majors, who have an exciting path ahead of them."
With those words, the room seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief and anticipation. Students exchanged curious glances, mentally preparing for their upcoming academic endeavors.
The Dean's announcement infused the air with purpose and excitement, leaving everyone eager to embrace the opportunities ahead.
Summer observed her friends gathering into their respective groups, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. On one hand, she felt a warm sense of happiness seeing them bond, but on the other, a hint of sorrow crept into her heart knowing she'd be heading home alone.
Little did she realize, solitude might not be her fate for the evening.
As she packed her belongings, her steps echoed down the bustling school hallway. Summer wasn't one for idle chatter with classmates, preferring the company of her two closest friends, Liam and Warrin.
Today was no exception. She hurried down the stairs leading to the main hall, her fingers tightly gripping the edges of her sweater pockets.
Just as she was about to step into the realm of her solitary musings, a voice pierced the tranquility, calling out her name.
Swiftly, she turned on her heels, her long hair flowing gracefully with the sudden movement, her expression shifting to a guarded stance, as if preparing for an unwelcome intrusion.
It was Mars, once again making his presence known.
"Headed home?" he asked, a soft smile playing on his lips. Deep within, Summer couldn't shake off the question of why he was so persistent in seeking her out. She mulled it over, wondering if she was reading too much into it. "Of course I am?" she pondered silently, refraining from voicing her thoughts.
Despite the turmoil swirling within her, Summer simply nodded, determined to keep her silence intact in his presence, as though shielding her words from his ears.
Yet Mars, undeterred, persisted. "Cat got your tongue?" he prodded, noticing Summer's reticence. "This morning you were quite the talker."
With a touch of reluctance evident in her response, Summer finally spoke, her irritation palpable. "Oh... I'm sorry," she muttered, though inwardly, she despised it; her original plan had been to maintain silence in his presence indefinitely.
Mars hummed in reply, and an awkward silence settled between them. "Well, see you tomorrow then," he said before taking his leave. In that moment, a flicker of hope stirred within Summer, a silent wish that she might not have to face him again.
Deep down, she longed for a break from his persistent attention, though the reasons behind his pursuit remained a mystery that continued to gnaw at her.
"What's bothering you today?" Summer's younger brother, John, asked, his voice laced with concern. Summer emitted a subtle sigh of frustration in response. Dropping her bag, she made her way over to the couch where John was seated.
"It's been such a long day," she sighed, feeling exhaustion settling into her bones like a heavy blanket. She sank into the couch, closed her eyes for a moment, then asked, "Do you think Mom and Dad will be late again?"
John couldn't suppress a chuckle at her question. "When do they ever arrive on time? Or more accurately, when do they ever make it home?" he quipped, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he recalled their parents' perpetual tardiness.
Sensing his sister's need for comfort, he reached over and handed her a steaming cup of hot chocolate he had prepared for himself.
Summer accepted the offering with a grateful nod. "Thank you," she murmured, her gaze fixed on her brother.
She admired his dedication and hard work, knowing he was diligently preparing for his upcoming journey to the north. He had been accepted into an excellent interior design program at a college there, and she couldn't be prouder.
"Oh, and there's some food in the oven for you," John added, trying to offer as much support as possible.
"Thanks, my bear," Summer teased playfully, using the endearing nickname she had given him because of his undeniable resemblance to a bear – in other words, she found him incredibly cuddly.
John scowled at the nickname, but secretly appreciated the affectionate gesture from his sister.
Summer glanced at the clock, noting it was already five o'clock. With a quick movement, she grabbed her bag and headed towards her bedroom, the sound of her footsteps faintly echoing in the quiet hallway.
It was a routine she knew well, one shaped by the demanding careers of her parents, both accomplished attorneys. Their love story was as captivating as the cases they tackled, beginning in the courtroom where they first met during a gripping hearing.
Yet, their careers came with a downside – punctuality was a rare commodity in their household. The ever-rising crime rates ensured that Summer's parents were often engrossed in their cases, their dedication to justice unwavering.
Their commitment to their work knew no bounds, often taking them to far-flung corners of the world. The world was their courtroom, and justice their guiding principle.
Consequently, it was customary for Amarians like Summer's parents to be granted permission to leave the Amarias property for business and work purposes, albeit for a limited period.
Despite her deep admiration for her parents' unwavering commitment to their profession, Summer couldn't shake the fervent desire stirring within her.
She longed for the chance to venture beyond the familiar confines of Amarias, to explore the vast world awaiting beyond its secure walls. The very notion of being confined within her current existence repelled her, stifling her adventurous spirit and insatiable curiosity.
The world called out to her, and she yearned to heed its summons, to break free from the cocoon of familiarity and embark on her own journey, determined to leave a mark on the world that would rival her parents' legacy.
With gentle care, Summer placed the enchanting book, its regal purple cover adorned with intricate designs, upon the sturdy wooden desk. Running her fingers over its ornate spine, she murmured softly,
"The stories from the North," feeling a rush of eager anticipation as she began to turn the pages and immerse herself in the opening chapter.
The book's pages, well-worn and aged, bore the marks of countless readers who had journeyed through its tales. They had acquired a gentle yellowing, as delicate as time itself, with a fragility that suggested they might crumble at the slightest touch.
Mindful of their delicate state, Summer reverently caressed the pages, allowing them to impart a faint whisper of paper dust onto her fingertips with each turn.
The beginning of the story beautifully depicted the construction of North Castle amid an endless winter. It was a scene where the sun rarely pierced the sky, creating a landscape of icy enchantment and intrigue.
Summer couldn't help but chuckle softly, noting, "Wow, my brother's toughness is like that of a bear. I bet he'll handle these freezing conditions just fine."
Her laughter, akin to a gentle breeze, filled the room as she eagerly flipped to the next page, eager to dive deeper into her adventure.
As the night progressed and the story became increasingly enthralling, exhaustion began to creep up on Summer. Her eyelids, like curtains closing on a stage, grew heavier with each passing moment.
Eventually, she surrendered to drowsiness, her head gently finding its place on the desk, the book still open in front of her.
Its timeless tales lay sprawled out, a tempting invitation to dreams that whispered from its pages.