Unti-Unti: The Story of Us
~ Encantadia, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Chronicles of Narnia, Mulawin, and many more. They are stories of mere fiction. Stories that are impossible to happen in real life.
"Shedah!", "It's Le-vi-yow-sah, not levi-ow-sahr", "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!!!".
We mimic them, we turn them into memes, we wear them like armor against the boredom of reality. Because it can't happen, right? Magic is just ink on paper and pixels on a screen. Or so I believed—until someone asked me a question that changed how I saw the stars.
"Do you think the multiverse is real?", "Do you think there's a real, different version of us that exists in a separate dimension?". "Do you think there's a world where magic and those 'superpowers' are real?".
I still remember that person's questions even though they left this world too sudden, too soon. ~
It all began at a college we shall call UR – the University of Remembrance, the school where everyone matters. It's not an over-exaggeration or a gaslighting statement. It is the "what if" of a school; a university that masterfully balanced discipline, academics, values, and adherence to those values, all in the absence of pride and ego. Sounds like it's straight out of a fantasy book, doesn't it?
Chapter 1: The View from the Podium
It's the first day of class and everyone is under the shade of the covered court.
The covered court was a cathedral of corrugated iron and steel beams, but today, it felt like the staging ground for an epic.
Students stood or sat in neat rows, not because a prefect was barking orders, but because there was a shared understanding of space. You couldn't tell the scholars from the elite, the athletes from the artists. They were all just there, sheltered from the morning sun.
Looking down at them, Professor Reyes often wondered if this school was a glitch in the system—a place where the "pride and ego" of the outside world simply failed to render. But, nonetheless, it's the school that he cares, love, and dedicated his self to.
His eyes scanned the crowd, eventually settling on a group near the back. Among the restless shifting of feet, one girl stood out. She wasn't looking at her phone or whispering to a seatmate. She was looking up at the rafters, her eyes wide, as if she could see the invisible ley lines of the multiverse crossing right above the basketball hoop. Beside her stood a boy—the one who would eventually become the keeper of her memory. At that moment, they were just two more names on a master list, two more souls under the shade.
"Look at them," the Dean whispered beside Reyes. "Every year they come here thinking they're just getting a degree. They have no idea they're about to become part of a story."
Reyes nodded. He watched the girl lean over and whisper something to the boy. Whatever she said made the boy look up at the sky, too. It was a small gesture, but in the quiet dignity of UR, it felt like the first spark of a fire.
The Professor stepped toward the podium. The microphone gave a low hum, a signal for the "fantasy" to begin. He knew that for some, magic was found in wands and ancient scripts. But as he looked at the girl who lived in the "what ifs," he realized that for her, the real magic was the possibility that they weren't just limited to this one, singular reality.
Reyes knew that for most of these young adults, the "magic" they grew up with—the wands, the elemental gems of Hathoria or Lireo, the rings of power—had been packed away in boxes as they stepped into "adulthood." They were told that life was about grades, resumes, and the relentless pursuit of more.
Yet, looking at that girl, Reyes felt a flicker of something different. She didn't look like someone who had packed her imagination away. She looked like someone who had brought it with her, hidden in her backpack like a contraband map to a different world.
He looked at the Dean and was given the signal that he should deliver a message to the students.
"Welcome," Reyes began, his voice dropping the formal "instructor tone" in favor of something more paternal. "To some, this is just a campus. To others, it is a four-year obligation. But here at the University of Remembrance, we teach you not just to look…but to see."
He paused, making eye contact with the girl in the back. For a split second, he felt a strange, inexplicable chill. It was the kind of feeling a professor gets when they realize they aren't just looking at a student, but at a catalyst.
He didn't know then that she would be the one to challenge the very physics he taught. He didn't know that the boy beside her would eventually become a living monument to her "what ifs." All he knew was that the air in the court felt a little thinner, a little more charged, as if the multiverse she believed in was leaning in to listen.
Professor Reyes gripped the sides of the podium, his knuckles whitening slightly. He took a deep breath, letting the silence of the covered court stretch until it felt heavy, expectant, and sacred. When he spoke again, he wasn't just addressing the freshmen; he was speaking to the very soul of the university.
"Look around you," Reyes said, his voice carrying a warmth that seemed to soften the harsh morning light. "In a world that is constantly rushing to grow up, to be productive, and to be practical, you have found yourselves here. They will tell you that the stories you loved as children—the ones with the cloaks, the swords, and the hidden realms—are things you must outgrow. They will tell you that reality is only what you can touch, and that magic is just a word for things we haven't explained yet.
But I am here to tell you that at UR, we believe in a different kind of physics.
We believe that every person you sit next to is a universe waiting to be explored. We believe that 'remembrance' isn't just about looking at the past, but about holding onto the parts of ourselves that the world tries to take away—our wonder, our kindness, and our courage to ask 'What if?' Do not be afraid to be the person who still looks at the stars and sees more than just burning gas. Do not be ashamed if you are still looking for the wardrobe that leads to Narnia or the portal to another world and school like Hogwarts. Because the moment you stop looking for magic is the moment you stop seeing the possibilities of who you can become.
You are not just students. You are the architects of the 'what ifs.' You are the proof that in a world of rigid lines, there is still room for the extraordinary. Here, you are seen. Here, you matter. Not for your grades, but for the light you bring into this space."
He looked back toward the girl in the rear. Her gaze hadn't wavered.
"The stories we tell, the ones we think are just 'fiction'—they are not lies. They are armor. They are reminders that even in the face of the impossible, we can stand our ground. Whether you are here to find a career or to find yourself, remember this: the most real thing about you is the world you carry inside your heart.
Welcome to the University of Remembrance."
The silence that followed wasn't the silence of boredom, but the silence of a thousand hearts collectively holding their breath. Even the boy in the back had stopped looking at the girl and was now looking at Reyes, his expression shifting from skepticism to a quiet, dawning realization.
Reyes stepped back, nodding to the Dean. He had said what needed to be said. He didn't know that for one specific girl, those words were the permission she had been waiting for her entire life. And for one specific boy, they were the beginning of a long, beautiful, and heartbreaking journey of "remembering" her as a fellow student, maybe a friend, maybe something more. Professor Reyes is sure about one thing, they will are part of the University's history starting from the moment they entered the gates and walked on the grounds in the embrace of this campus.
Today, Reyes witnesses the girl and the boy; tomorrow, he might witness a different "miracle" or "tragedy" in the university gardens. Each becoming a portrait in his gallery of remembrance.