Quentin wasn't sure how it had started. Maybe with the fact that he was stuck in Brakebills. He'd been offered a teaching position, which he'd taken, and a relationship, which he hadn't. No offense to Charlton, but there'd really only ever been one man he'd ever been interested in. But it seemed as if the band had split up. And sure, there was Jules and Quentin's new baby niece, but most everyone left was in the new and improved Fillory. They hoped. Twenty-three - Penny - was off with his new protege to see if they could find out what happened. And mostly Quentin was left alone with his thoughts.

No. He knew how it started. It started as a portal spell he'd found in the teacher's section of the library, the area students weren't allowed into. Instead of needing a specific destination, it used intent to link two places. And maybe therein was the problem. His intent, he'd thought, was to find what he'd lost. To find his missing friends so that they could come home or maybe he could go to them.

He'd spent a week straight rushing students - had he ever been that young and naive? - out the door after class and poring over circumstances to make sure he got the spell exactly right. And then he cast it. The reflection didn't show the new Fillory. It didn't even show up as a mirror. The room was there, the same one Quentin was in, but he couldn't see himself. But he was so sure he'd cast it correctly and he had his intention pure in his mind. Find what he had lost.

So he walked through. And Fillory was not on the other side.

Instead, he was back in his room. At least, that's what he thought at first. The furniture was all the same and in all the right places, but there were personal objects missing and other things that seemed familiar if only he could place them. If only he would let himself place them.

He let out a slow sigh and turned to leave. Maybe Fogg was feeling better enough that they could have a conversation about just what he'd done wrong.