Moriz didn't get there through conventional means. He couldn't. His parents didn't have money, so he had to work his hardest to be one of those lucky few to get a scholarship. It was hard. Scholarships were rare in these days, even rarer for people from the lower city who were generally considered second class citizens. Moriz was way too young, he never had private tutors and wasn't raised bi-lingual, but he never half-assed anything. He decided to do so well that they couldn't deny him, even though those universities absolutely despised lower city scum like him. He made it through the intake tests with the highest score ever seen in the history of Yasny university. A week later he received his acceptation letter and left for the Kamnyc district. He didn't tell anyone, not even his dad. He doubted the old man would even sober up enough to notice he was gone.
Moriz never fitted in with the people in the lower city. Being a Yasny student had always been his dream. He hoped it would lead to a happier life, and in a way it did. His health got a lot better once he left that poisoned ground. No more headaches and fevers. Though some things never changed. He didn't didn't fit in with the other students at all. Even though he dressed impeccable and kept his mouth shut so his heavy accent wouldn't give him away, they still gave him that patronizing look. He hated it, but it made him sad too. And every so often he felt alone in that crowd.
Illustration for my #Emion project
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