POV: HELENA IVYRA.
The room we were in was exactly what one would expect from a public school.
There were green chairs, all made of metal with signs of rust, betraying years of use, scribbles, and several chewing gums stuck to them.
The cold of the seat permeated the fabric of my pants, and the sharp sound of metal scraping the floor repeated every time someone moved.
In front, a long office desk, with its erasers already falling off, accompanied by a chair where the professor sat daily.
To the side, a dark, old wooden cabinet with two worn doors.
Inside it, a computer that, contrary to what one would expect from a room with old furniture, was new.
It had a quality monitor and a well-made connection to the digital blackboard in the room.
Digital blackboard…
It was strange to think about.
A public school with crumbling furniture, but with access to technology that was exclusive to only a few schools in the state.
It was certainly an unusual characteristic for that setting.
'Definitely ironic…'
My thoughts about the strangeness of that view were broken when the professor for the next class entered the room.
One of the most interesting subjects, and one that, from time to time, could be a total headache…
The difficulty wasn't due to its content, but rather the professor, who was meticulous and methodical, yet still amused his students.
The individual in question was a man with an upright posture and a firm voice.
His appearance seemed to fit his profession, with dyed black hair and a face adorned with a beard completely whitened by age.
His gaze was wise and showed his sagacity in analyzing others.
Always with his round glasses, which resembled the famous young wizard from the books of our childhood.
He was the peculiar, yet excellent Professor Francisco Martins of Ethical and Magical Foundations of Society.
The professor, already animated, began his usual presentation.
"Good morning, everyone" he greeted, looking at each face in the room.
"I hope your vacations were good, and that you are well-rested. After all, you are in your final year, the third year"
Arranging his bag on the table, he walked around and looked more calmly at the students' faces.
Seeing who he knew and who was new.
He leaned on the table, adjusting his posture to continue.
"To start, for those who don't know me, I will introduce myself, and for those who already know me, I will simply explain how this subject will work throughout the year" he began, opening his folder and taking out a sheet of paper that contained the subject's plan.
"Our classes take place twice a week, with forty-five minutes each. Our subject is basically a combination of two old subjects: Ethical Philosophy and Magical Foundations. So far, so good?"
I watched him keep an eye on the class, waiting for an answer.
Until everyone, practically in unison, replied: "Yesss".
"Great then… In these first classes, I will review the basic concepts of both subjects, such as basic elements of domination, main rules of each interpretive aspect, and of course… As you should know, it's the third year, which means we'll have classes about the ENEL and how to prepare for it…"
I kept an eye out, but got distracted as he went through the orientations, as they were the same as always.
The sound of his voice filled the room with a constant rhythm, as if each word was measured.
Then, he recaptured my attention when I noticed he began handing a small sheet to each student.
"I want to give a simple test" he explained, extending his arm to the front row.
"Just to check your level of attention on a few points"
I took my sheet, and upon looking at the questions, I realized he wasn't exaggerating: they were basic, almost obvious, but required attention.
After focusing on the questions for a few minutes that passed.
The sound of pens scratching the paper.
I, however, had already finished; I just stared at the sheet and its questions about authorship and common types of enchantments.
Which strangely reminded me of the doubts I had in the days before going to the library…
I didn't even have time to process everything that happened; after all, after that day, I had to stay in the hospital for about two days, and then I had to go to Rose's funeral…
Hmph…
I sighed, just remembering the horrible scene of having to be present at that moment when no one knew the real reason for her death…
And knowing that even if I knew, it was useless to say anything.
'After all, no one would believe the crazy girl…'
The problem wasn't even having those doubts in my head; the part that hurt the most was having to tell Rose's granddaughter that her grandmother died in an accident…
When… the truth was different.
Without realizing it, I ended up focusing so much on that memory that I didn't notice I was tearing up, and accidentally shed some tears on the sheet, which I quickly wiped away before anyone noticed.
The doubts gnawed at me from within, as did the feeling of uncertainty about what had happened with that blessed enchantment.
A temporary enchantment…
Was that really just in my head?
'No, no!'
I knew it was real; I felt and saw it in front of me.
I needed to believe my senses because they were my best bet in understanding it all.
But… What if it was really just a confusion of mine?
And then, that mental flash.
It flickered again, and I had a slight sense of strangeness…
The library in flames…
'THE FLASH!'
The realization clicked in my mind as I put the pieces together.
The library in flames.
It wasn't a common memory, but a sudden, vivid flash that left me breathless, that gave me a vivid sensation of heat.
That made no sense. But, coincidentally, it appeared in my mind moments before the library started to catch fire…
'Did the papyrus try to warn me?'
The question left me incredulous just thinking about it…
If that was really it, how on earth was it possible for that to happen?
Did it try to prepare me for what would happen?
If so, did the author of that papyrus do it on purpose? Or was it all a big coincidence?
'Many questions and few answers, as always… Actually, there were some things I could have answers for'
Returning my attention to the professor, who was collecting some tests, I raised my hand.
"Professor, can I ask something?" I said, my voice sounding more hesitant than I wanted.
He turned to me, tilting his head slightly.
"Of course, Helena. What is your doubt?"
I quickly explained the question that had been bothering me since reading in the library.
The question of the authorship of historical records and how to recognize DAs in those cases.
My speech was rushed, but he seemed to understand immediately.
He adjusted his glasses and began to answer.
"Your interpretation makes sense" he affirmed, thoughtful.
"But, you see, it's necessary to consider that, in certain cases, the context completely changes the notion of authorship. And, however tempting it may be to simplify, the concept isn't always so fixed"
I nodded, agreeing with his point. Waiting for him to continue, which he soon did.
"Let's do like that so: I'll bring you a quote from an author who elaborates more on this in the next class; I'll bring you Kuhn's book to introduce to you… Okay?"
"Alright, professor, thank you!" I replied, nodding slightly in gratitude for his effort.
My attention returned to the classroom when the professor's voice sounded once more.
"Class, to complement today's lesson, I will assign a diagnostic assignment" he announced, in a tone that made everyone look at him.
"It will be an essay. I want you to write about the following topic…" he said, quickly writing on the blackboard.
The text read: Is humanity naturally good or bad?
I looked at the prompt, feeling a pang of irony rise to the surface.
'Ah, public school… Always wanting high schoolers to answer questions that not even adults have found answers to…'
Crazy with these guys, a bunch of lazy bums…