It was a tranquil holiday at Eden Academy. The halls, usually bustling with students, were now eerily silent. Most had seized the chance to visit their families, leaving the dormitories nearly deserted. Sophia, too, had gone out for the day, enjoying the company of her family, while Aira found herself alone, with the rare luxury of an entire day to herself.
Aira wandered around the dorm room, feeling the weight of boredom settle in. She glanced at the stack of books she had meticulously packed before coming to the academy. Reading was always her solace, and with nothing else to occupy her mind, she decided to lose herself in the pages of a book.
She approached the stack and began to sift through the volumes, her fingers brushing against their spines. As she moved a few aside, her gaze fell upon a particular book she didn't recall packing. It was an old, weathered tome with a deep burgundy cover, its leather slightly cracked with age. The title, *"It Was Fate,"* was embossed in faded gold, barely visible under the layer of dust that had settled over it.
Curiosity got the better of her as she pulled the book from the stack. It had an oddly heavy feel to it, as if it contained more than just printed pages. Aira sat down on her bed, holding the book on her lap, and slowly opened the cover. As she did, she felt a slight resistance, as if the book was reluctant to reveal its contents.
Inside, she found the pages to be unexpectedly thick, almost as if they were glued together. With a gentle tug, Aira discovered why—the pages had been hollowed out to conceal something within. Nestled inside the carved-out center was a smaller book, wrapped in rich, dark leather. It was a diary, unmistakably personal, with a delicate ribbon tied around it, holding it shut.
Aira's heart skipped a beat. A personal diary hidden within a book was an unusual find, and the air of secrecy surrounding it only heightened her interest. She carefully lifted the diary from its hiding place, feeling the weight of the secrets it likely held.
The cover of the diary was smooth to the touch, but it bore the marks of frequent use. The leather was worn in places, particularly around the edges, where it had been handled time and time again. Aira tried to open it, eager to uncover the thoughts and experiences penned within. But to her surprise, the diary wouldn't open. The ribbon held firm, almost as if it was enchanted, or perhaps simply fastened in a way that made it impossible to untie.
Frustrated but undeterred, Aira examined the diary more closely. There were no visible locks or clasps, yet it felt as though an invisible force was keeping it sealed. She turned it over in her hands, searching for any clue that might explain why it was locked or how she might open it.
Despite her efforts, the diary remained stubbornly closed, its secrets safe for now. Aira placed it gently on her bedside table, her mind swirling with questions. Who had written this diary? Why had it been hidden so carefully? And most importantly, what secrets did it hold that someone had gone to such lengths to conceal?
As the day wore on, Aira found herself returning to the diary, her curiosity growing with each passing moment. She knew she would have to find a way to unlock it, for something told her that whatever was written within could change everything she thought she knew.
The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow through the windows of the dormitory. Aira's room was bathed in the soft light of early evening, but despite the tranquility outside, her mind was anything but calm. The mysterious diary she had discovered weighed heavily on her thoughts, its secrets tantalizingly out of reach.
After her failed attempts to open it earlier, Aira knew she needed a different approach. Frustration had given way to determination, and she wasn't going to let a simple ribbon keep her from uncovering the truth. The diary lay on her desk, taunting her with its stubborn refusal to reveal its contents.
As she paced the room, her eyes fell on the stack of books she had been sifting through earlier. One of the books stood out, its dark cover slightly ajar, as if inviting her to take another look. It was an old, thick volume titled *"Arcane Secrets and Forgotten Spells."* Aira didn't remember packing this book either, but given the strange occurrences of the day, she wasn't entirely surprised.
Driven by a hunch, she picked up the book and began to leaf through its pages. The book was filled with ancient spells and incantations, many of which were beyond her understanding. Yet something compelled her to keep reading. Page after page, she searched, her fingers brushing over the faded ink as she scanned for anything that might help.
Then, buried deep within the book, she found it—a spell that seemed to leap off the page. The title was written in elegant script: *"Unlocking the Hidden."* Beneath it was a description that sent a shiver down her spine:
*"This spell, when spoken with intent, will reveal that which has been concealed, opening doors both physical and metaphorical."*
Aira's heart raced. Could this be the key to unlocking the diary? The instructions were clear, and though the spell was complex, it was something she could attempt. She glanced at the diary, then back at the spell. It felt as though the pieces were falling into place.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself as she prepared to recite the incantation. The room seemed to grow quieter, the air thickening with anticipation. Holding the diary in one hand and the book of spells in the other, Aira began to chant the words aloud.
The ancient language felt strange on her tongue, but she spoke with confidence, her voice filling the room. As she finished the incantation, the air around her seemed to hum with energy. A faint, ethereal light began to emanate from the diary, illuminating the worn leather cover.
Suddenly, the diary shuddered in her hands. The ribbon that had refused to untie itself earlier began to unravel, slowly at first, then with increasing speed. Aira watched in awe as the diary's cover creaked open, revealing the first page.
She could hardly believe it—the spell had worked. The diary was no longer sealed, its secrets finally within her reach.
With trembling hands, Aira turned the pages, each one revealing more of the mysterious author's thoughts and experiences. The words were written in elegant script, telling a tale of love, betrayal, and hidden truths that seemed almost too fantastical to believe. But as she read on, she realized that this was no mere story—it was a reality that had somehow become entwined with her own.
The diary spoke of powerful magic, ancient curses, and a destiny that could not be escaped. And then, as before, it delivered a message directly to her:
*"If you've come this far, you are now bound to the fate within these pages. The path ahead is fraught with danger, but only you can uncover the truth. The choices you make will shape your future, and perhaps the fate of others."*
Aira closed the diary, her mind reeling from the revelations within. She had unlocked the diary's secrets, but in doing so, she had also opened a door to something far greater—something that could alter her life in ways she couldn't yet understand.
As night fell and the dormitory grew dark, Aira knew that she was no longer just a curious student. She had become a part of a much larger story, one that she was only beginning to comprehend. The spell had done more than open the diary; it had opened a new chapter in her life, one filled with mysteries, magic, and a fate that she was now destined to unravel.
19 January
Dear Diary,
Today, I can't help but feel like my life is completely worthless. Everywhere I turn, people treat me so poorly. It's like no one sees the real me—they only see the anger, the outbursts, the side of me that's quick to lose its temper. But deep down, I know that's not who I really am. I act out because I'm desperate for attention, for someone to notice me, to care. But instead, they all misunderstand me, labeling me as the villainess, the one with the dark heart.
It's painful to watch others enjoy the warmth of their families, basking in the love and attention that I've always craved but never received. It's like a dagger twisting in my heart, reminding me of everything I lack. My mana flow is so weak, a constant reminder that I'm nowhere near as strong or as gifted as my brothers. They have everything—power, respect, admiration—while I have nothing but my insecurities and this suffocating jealousy.
I wish more than anything that my mother were still alive. She was the only person who truly loved me, who understood me without judgment. Without her, I'm adrift, alone in a world that sees me as nothing but a disappointment. My father… he treats me like I'm not worth anything, as if I'm just a shadow in the background, never good enough, never deserving of his pride or love.
I've done things I'm not proud of, made mistakes out of jealousy and pain. But does anyone understand why? No. They just see my actions, not the reasons behind them. No one sees the hurt I carry, the longing for acceptance that drives me to do these things. All I ever wanted was to be seen, to be loved, to feel like I mattered to someone. But maybe that's just too much to ask in a world that's determined to cast me as the villain.
As Aira closed the diary after reading her entry, her thoughts drifted back to her past life. The feelings she had poured out on those pages were eerily similar to the emotions she had struggled with in her previous existence. In her past life, she had also felt like an outsider, constantly overlooked and undervalued. No matter how hard she worked, no matter how much she tried to prove herself, it was never enough. The world had always seemed to conspire against her, and her frustrations had often boiled over into anger and bitterness.