I finally understood why the maid had been so busy packing my things before we left. Ha! Did they really think I wouldn't notice? I wasn't blind, and even if I were, they hadn't exactly been subtle. Still, why all the secrecy?
Was father really that afraid I wouldn't want to come? The last time we talked about it, I told him I'd never set foot in another stupid institution again, so maybe he truly was worried I'd try to run away.
But he didn't need to be. This wasn't a hospital. It was a school of magic, completely unlike anything I'd ever known. They could have just told me the truth about where we were going.
A shame we arrived so late. Darkness had already fallen outside, thick enough that I couldn't see a thing. Not that a row of streetlights would have made much difference, especially since I wasn't even allowed to go for a walk. Exploring the surroundings would've been fascinating, but that was something I'd set right with time.
At least I had the chance to look around my new room. The headmaster brought me straight to my chambers after father said his farewells and left. He didn't linger, just casually mentioned that he'd call often. He wouldn't. I could always tell when he was lying. Lately, both he and mom hadn't been particularly honest with me.
Besides, if he really intended to call frequently, he wouldn't have ran off as if the Devil himself was at his heels...
My new room wasn't as spacious as the one I had at home. It was so small, I couldn't help but wonder how they had managed to fit a bed, a desk, bookshelves, a wardrobe, and even two nightstands. But I did have a massive wooden window, just like in a castle, with two billowing curtains!
How positively pedestrian, Dorian remarked in his lazily nonchalant voice, just as I was unpacking my things into the wardrobe.
Dorian Moore...
Maybe I should take a moment to tell you a bit about him.
He came into my life completely out of the blue, like a thunderclap on a clear day. It happened two years ago, exactly on my birthday.
I remember it as if it happened yesterday. I was carefully unwrapping yet another gift from my grandfather when something struck me on the head with surprising force, hard enough to knock me out cold. I didn't wake up until the next day.
That was quite a scene, I must say. I was confined to my bed for three full days, with everyone fussing over my condition. During that time, I saw more doctors than I had in my entire life. It felt just like being in a hospital, and I absolutely despised hospitals. They always reeked of foul-smelling ointments and came with the constant threat of intrusive injections.
But that time, there were no injections. And to be honest, I didn't even feel hurt. I still couldn't understand why they had turned my room into a makeshift infirmary.
I felt perfectly fine, maybe even better than I had before I was hit.
And on top of that, I had a new entity living inside me: Mister Dorian Moore.
We didn't become friends right away. At first, he drove me absolutely crazy with his constant whining. He never stopped ranting about how someone had betrayed him and doomed him to a miserable existence trapped inside my body...
But gradually, he settled down. A few weeks later, he even started talking to me.
Oh, how long we spent trying to understand each other. His personality was utterly repulsive, even worse than my grandfather's on my mother's side, who could find fault with absolutely anything: the way people spoke, the way they looked at him, or even the faintest draft that gave him chills.
Dorian kept whining about how, in his world, he'd been some kind of noble, practically a prince by their standards. Imagine waking up with someone like that in your head.
Something had gone terribly wrong in his world, though he never said exactly what. All he ever talked about were the villains who had to pay for their betrayal. He clearly didn't want me involved, and that was fine by me.
If he wasn't just spinning tales to sound cool, Dorian had once been the greatest dark mage in his world. But he did have a habit of exaggerating. Sometimes he told me things that were hard to believe, and more than once I suspected he was just making them up, weaving stories I had no way to verify.
Still, I had to admit he'd taught me more than a few things about magic. So even if he wasn't the best dark mage to walk the earth, he was still genuine about his abilities. And an excellent swordsman. I'd come to realize that as well.
Since we met, my life had changed dramatically. Thanks to him, I found myself capable of doing things I couldn't have ever dreamed of.
Overall, he turned out to be a remarkably good friend, the kind I had never had before. Sure, he was a bit eccentric, maybe even had a few screws loose, but he was always there for me. And as for his quirks, well, we all had our own, didn't we?
Even my parents were a little strange. You just couldn't please them.
When I was slacking off and struggling at school, they disapproved. But after I met Dorian and started reading more, their dissatisfaction only deepened. If anything, things got worse.
Only my grandfather on my father's side truly understood me. He kept showering me with all sorts of books, until my father forbade me from visiting him. Tell me that's normal behavior.
Like I said, my parents were quite the oddities themselves. And the more time went on, the stranger they seemed to become. I knew I would miss them, but it'd be better if we lived apart. That, at least, I was sure of.
A proper shithole, I say, Dorian suddenly reminded me of himself.
Have you gone deaf, Max?
"Don't be an ass," I replied. "This is Kitezh High School of Magic.
Didn't you read the plaque?"
A school of magic, huh? Once upon a time, I was sent to study at a school just like this one. I was still very young back then. Now that was a real school. Serious, disciplined, and grand. Unlike this place...
"I haven't even unpacked my things yet and you're acting as if you've been given the grand tour of the place."
It's obvious. Just look at this room. I've seen bigger outhouses!
They show no respect for their students. What more is there to say? When I started my studies, I was given an entire floor to myself. It was a proper school, with all the dignity and grandeur you'd expect.
"Sure, I believe you," I said with a smile, pondering which shelf in the closet I should use for my jeans. "I quite like it here. There's even a large window and I have my own bathroom. I didn't have those at home."
How sad to find happiness in such trivial things... Am I really planning to take over the world with someone like you?
"Your constant whining makes my teeth ache," I muttered, then closed the empty suitcase and shoved it under the bed.
There was still plenty of space in the wardrobe. I barely owned anything, and it was practically empty. Then again, what had I expected? I never cared much for trendy clothes. Mom was constantly nagging dad to take me shopping for new outfits. It always felt like such a hassle. Still, I somehow thought I'd have a bit more to my name.
After the long journey, I took a hot shower while the clock struck half past eleven and rain pattered softly against the window.
One of the first real joys of living on my own. Back home, they would have tried to put me to bed by ten, but here, I could fall asleep whenever I felt like it. Absolutely wonderful.
Usually, before drifting off to sleep, Dorian and I would exchange good night wishes. But tonight, I couldn't remember if I had done that. I was that tired. The moment my head touched the plush pillow, I was out, slipping into deep, peaceful sleep.
*** My rest was abruptly interrupted by an unusual sound — a knock at the door. Not a gentle tap, but a steady, insistent rhythm, as if someone had been at it for quite a while.
I pulled the blanket around my shoulders, slid into my slippers, and shuffled to the door.
"Who's there," I asked in a hushed voice.
"Emperor Romanov," came a rough, slightly gruff voice from the other side.
"What?!"
"Just open up. I was sent by the headmaster," the voice replied.
I swung the door open and found myself face-to-face with a chubby sixteen-year-old boy at least three heads taller than me. He was dressed in a dark suit, with an embroidered emblem of a blazing flame and the number three on the left side. He scrutinized me from head to toe, then snorted dismissively.
"Wow. So you really are a pipsqueak, huh? I thought Orlov was joking. Well, this is quite something," he said, eyeing me like a rare creature. After a moment, he asked casually: "Are you Maxim Temnikov?"
"Yeah?"
"And you're really only twelve?" he asked, arching an eyebrow with a hint of disbelief.
"I'll be thirteen in a few months," I added with a shrug.
"Ha-ha. Earlier today, the guys told me they brought some kid to school yesterday, and the headmaster mentioned it again this morning.
Honestly, I didn't believe it. Yet, here you are..." The boy shook his head with a mixture of amusement and incredulity on his face. "You're in over your head, kid. Here, you've got to be sharp as a knife. Mommy and daddy aren't here to change the sheets when you wet your bed."
"Very original." I yawned, stretching my arms. "So, why are you here?"
"To wake you up and let you know that breakfast is served at eight sharp. So get your ass in gear, kid. The cafeteria is on the fifth floor," he said with a smirk. "If you're late, you'll go hungry, so I'd put some hop in my step if I were you."
"Got it. Thanks," I replied.
"No problem," he said, turning down the corridor and commenting on what he saw under his breath. "Twelve years old... Unbelievable... What are we? A kindergarten? They're gonna lose it laughing!"
I closed the door behind him, tossed the blanket onto my bed, and stretched. I'd slept soundly and peacefully.
I don't like that fatso, Dorian said suddenly, a mischievous note in his voice. How about we rip off his right ear next time we get the chance?
"Let him live for now," I said with a faint smile, gazing out the window. "He hasn't quite earned a torn-off ear yet."
My room was only on the second floor, but the view was truly magnificent. I found it quietly enchanting. Although it faced the inner courtyard, it looked out over what seemed to be a park, or at least something very much like one. I still had no idea how everything was arranged here. Even so, the dense thickets were captivating, and I loved having such lush greenery right outside my window. I also noticed winding paths that threaded their way through the trees, so it was probably a park after all.
The rain had long ago ceased, and bright sunlight poured in through the window. So, that meant my room was facing east, which was wonderful.
I really disliked it when the sun blazed directly into the window all day long. It was much better when the warmth and light were equally balanced.
My phone's clock displayed quarter past seven, giving me plenty of time to get ready for breakfast.
I was eager to get to the cafeteria before everyone else. If that chubby kid had been looking at me like I was a two-headed calf for a good three minutes, I certainly didn't want to arrive last for breakfast and be stared at like a circus spectacle.
But, of course, things didn't quite go according to plan.
I arrived at the main building as scheduled, just fifteen minutes before eight. Yet, to my surprise, there was no sign of a cafeteria on the fifth floor. In fact, there was no fifth floor at all — unless you counted the attic.
The whole thing culminated in some man catching me and bombarding me with questions. He wanted to know whose son I was and why I was wandering the school corridors without any parents in sight. I explained at length that I was a student, but he just chuckled dismissively in response.
Oh, how he tested my patience. Had our conversation lasted a moment longer, I might have been forced to take more drastic measures.
Dorian, of course, was all for it. But for once, luck was on my side. Out of nowhere, we ran into the headmaster, who quickly took control of the situation.
"What's going on here, Egor?" Ivan asked, his tone friendly, though touched with curiosity as he looked at us.
"Sir, I spotted this boy on the security cameras. He's been wandering around, claiming he's looking for the cafeteria." As I tried to pull away, Egor tightened his grip on my shoulder. "He says he's a student, but I think he's just someone's kid, probably afraid of getting in trouble with his parents for loafing around."
"Egor, let the boy go," Ivan said sharply.
"Pardon me?" Egor asked, caught off guard.
"Did you hear what I said?" Ivan repeated, his voice firm.
Egor released his grip, and I quickly slipped free.
"Sir, I just..."
"The boy's name is Maxim Temnikov, and as of yesterday, he's officially a student at our school. Try to keep that in mind, Egor."
Egor frowned, sighed in disappointment, gave me a quick glance, and said:
"Actually, the cafeteria's on the first floor."
"Thanks for the info," I said.
He gave a short nod and walked off, leaving me alone with the headmaster.
"Well, Maxim, what brought you here?" Ivan asked.
"I was looking for the cafeteria and got a little lost," I answered.
"I see... By the way, Egor is our caretaker, and if it weren't for me being here, you could have easily missed breakfast. He's a former policeman, so he enjoys investigations and interrogations."
"Yeah, I've figured that one out."
"Good. Then let's go, I'll show you the way."
Instead of arriving at the cafeteria earlier, I was almost twenty minutes late. So by the time the headmaster and I reached the place, it was already packed with students. The huge room was very noisy, but as soon as we entered, everyone suddenly fell silent.
Hundreds of students turned to look at us with curiosity, and in that moment I felt like the star of a circus act I'd never agreed to join.
Everyone around was in uniform: boys in dark suits, girls in skirts and light shirts. Only I was wearing blue jeans and a black T-shirt with the logo of my favorite rock band. Not to mention that I was the only baby-faced twelve-year-old there.
"Well, here we are," the headmaster announced with a tone of finality. "Find yourself a free seat and enjoy your meal."
With that, he turned and left. I, meanwhile, moved forward through the silent gazes of all the students, heading toward the source of the enticing aroma — the kitchen.
Step by step, the ambient noise grew louder around me, until I could clearly catch whispers rippling through the crowd.
"He's just a kid!"
"What the hell is he doing here?"
"Temnikov? The guy's a pauper!"
"What can he do besides brewing potions?"
"Soon, Kitezh will turn into a flophouse!"
"What a disgrace!"
"Someone should take him back home to his momma..."
I heard it all, but I couldn't care less. Still, I had to admit it stung a little. Damn it, I wasn't a kid anymore, and I knew well enough that our family wasn't exactly wealthy, not by a long shot.
There were always those who liked to remind me of it and laugh at my expense, only to end up paying for it. Obolensky would be limping for a while after failing to keep his mouth shut. Gavrilova too, that witch who wouldn't stop yapping even after being asked nicely, would be walking around toothless for some time. And there were a few others as well.
I smiled to myself as I looked around, and then my eyes landed on that same hefty guy who had dropped by earlier this morning. He was watching me with a daft grin, blushing as he tried to stifle a laugh. When he noticed me looking, he wiggled his eyebrows in a mischievous wink.
Just wait, you asshole. I'll pay you back soon enough.
Under the watchful eyes of the other students, I calmly took my tray and leisurely strolled past the long row of gleaming food containers. For breakfast, I chose a couple of fluffy pancakes with savory meat, a moist muffin, a portion of fried quark pancakes with raspberry jam, and two glasses of fresh strawberry juice.
Finding a vacant table, I settled in to enjoy my meal. The headmaster was right — the food here was truly exceptional. I'd never tasted pancakes this delicious before. Back home, they'd been quite a bit plainer. And the raspberry jam didn't disappoint either. I even found myself wishing I had taken two servings. After all, there was no mom or dad nearby to tell me no, so why not? Next time, I'd definitely grab two. No, three. Because three was always better than two.
While I was savoring my meal, the others also resumed eating, but my presence still drew their curiosity. Though I tried not to stare around too overtly, I could feel a multitude of eyes fixed on me. Let them gawk. What a bunch of fools.
As I was finishing my second glass of juice, a shadow suddenly cast itself over my table. I looked up and found myself face-to-face with a man in his fifties, dressed in a sharply tailored black suit. Instead of his left eye, he wore an eye patch, giving him the roguish appearance of a pirate.
Coupled with a black mustache and a trimmed beard, he was a parrot perched on his shoulder away from completing his Blackbeard costume.
"Would you care for some juice?" I asked him after he had stood silently beside me for a couple of minutes. "I've got two glasses right here."
"Are you done with your meal?" he asked, his tone rough and gravelly, as if he were growling. Quite the pirate, indeed!
"Almost there," I replied. Taking a few more sips of my juice, I savored the moment. "All set!"
"Come with me," he said quietly, then without a word, he turned and strode out of the cafeteria.
I rose to my feet and followed him, noting that all the others fell silent once more. The stillness now was even more heavy and oppressive than when I first arrived.
It was very, very strange...
*** Kitezh High School of Magic.
A few minutes later...
The boy who had woken Maxim was named Nikita Bubnov. He was practically giddy at how easily he'd managed to fool that naive little kid.
Who would've thought he'd be such an easy mark? Then again, most freshmen were gullible, and this one wasn't even a proper freshman. He should have been at home, sipping juice and watching Saturday morning cartoons instead of studying at Kitezh.
"Did you see the new guy?" Nikita teased with a grin, sharing his amusement with the other third-years seated at the same table. "Orlov's all but drawn him a map of the place!"
His friends burst into hearty laughter, their mirth echoing across to the neighboring tables, adding to the lively atmosphere of the hall.
"I wonder what kind of Gift he has... Making snot bubbles?" Nikita chuckled, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he continued to enjoy the joke.
"I highly doubt it," one of the girls sitting at the same table suddenly interjected, her voice sharp with suspicion. "Did you see who came for him?"
"That doesn't mean a thing." Nikita dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "I'll never believe that he possesses such a Gift. He's twelve for Pete's sake!"
"So, what do you think he's doing here then?" the girl pressed, refusing to back down.
"Farting about! What else would a twelve-year-old be doing here?"
Suddenly, Nikita sprang from his chair, eyes wide with panic. His hands flew to his backside, clutching as if to hold something in. Then, without warning, he let out a fart so thunderous it sounded like someone had yanked a massive cork from his rear, one that had been holding back five years' worth of pressure.
The noise only intensified, bursting forth again and again with even greater force, until it became a deafening rumble. Nearby students clutched their ears in agony as a foul, choking stench spread through the hall like a toxic cloud.
Chairs scraped the floor, girls screamed, and within seconds, the cafeteria dissolved into chaos. Tables were abandoned and conversations forgotten as students fled the stifling fog in a desperate dash for fresh air.