After I filled out the form, I was assigned a dormitory room. For some reason, every student had a room located on the academy’s property, though in my case it wasn’t necessary as I had an entire mansion at my disposal. But since Shelly had to write a report about that Grimoire theft, I was left to explore the school grounds on my own.

The boys' dormitories were located in the western part of the building. There was an extra door on the outside, but since I was already inside the main building, I tried figuring out a way into the building that way. At the same time, I hoped to explore the academy as much as possible. While the southern part of the building, where the principal’s office was also located, seemed to only contain rooms that were used by the faculty, the northern part was an entirely different story.

There were two wings for the classrooms and squeezed in between those was a well-kept garden. There were many wooden chairs or benches, as well as long tables, some of which were occupied by students that stayed over summer.

What seemed odd to me though was that both wings certainly did not have enough room for classrooms that could fit at least a couple hundred of students. The only other buildings I was aware of were the girls’ dormitories in the eastern building and the boys’ dormitories in the western building, towards which I was headed to.

I pushed open a swinging door, that led me to a wide corridor, with at least a dozen doors on the left side. Each of the doors had a number on them and the names of the students occupying them were also engraved below that number.

Shared rooms, huh?

After taking a closer look at a couple of those doors and realized that the three-digit numbers followed a pattern. Each of them started with a one, so I assumed they would be for the first-years. Since I wasn't a first-year I returned to the beginning of the corridor where there were stairs leading upwards. I entered the next floor and quickly walked up to the first room, confirming it was room number 201.

I walked up to the next floor, passing by each and every room, looking at the engravings. I noticed the lack of a 307 and while at first confused, realized that might have something to do with some sort of superstition. Guess even this world had some sort of unlucky numbers. 

I reached the end of the corridor, room 314, and was surprised to find my own name below another. This was quite baffling since I signed the application form not even half an hour ago. The other name had to be that of my roommate.

I knocked on the door.

“Come in,” a boyish voice said from the other side.

I opened the door and said: “Excuse me, I think I’ll be living here from now on.” Or rather not, I mused thinking about my mansion.

“Hi, I’m Raynard,” a dark-skinned boy greeted me from his bed in the corner of the room.

People of color, they do exist!

“Yeah, the door already told me. I’m Nathan,” I said, taking a closer look at the room. And I immediately noticed the total absence of furniture in the right part from the door. The left was occupied by a huge bed, a gigantic bookshelf in front of which was some sort of beanbag chair. But the most puzzling thing I only saw, after I entered the room, and looked next to the door I just entered through.

There was a window presenting a gorgeous landscape, which should have been impossible, considering behind that wall was actually the corridor I had just come from.

“Aside from the fact, that this is a pretty cool trick, why is it that only one part of the room is furnished?”

“Right, you’re a complete newbie. You can also do that ‘pretty cool trick.’ Just put your hands on the wall.”

With nothing else left to do, I motioned to the wall, that seemed to be mine, and put my hands on it.

“And now?” As I said that, my hands sunk into the wall. I lost my balance, nearly bumped my face against the wall.

“What the-?” I said with a mix of surprise and disgust. Imagine dipping your entire lower arm into a sea of honey. It was weirdly sticky.

“Haha, yeah it probably feels weird.”

“It’s gross but go on.”

“Now just let your magic flow and imagine what your part of the room should look like. Basically, everything is possible!” I could not see his face, but he sure sounded excited.

I tried to imagine what my old room looked like. I couldn’t possibly bring my game console to this world, could I? I decided not to do that. As far as I knew television and game consoles did not exist here. Who knew what would happen if I brought such advanced technology to this world.

In the meantime, I already had created a bed that was inspired by the one back home. Though I made it look more medieval-style and less IKEA.

Next, I created my own bookshelf. I figured having a couple of comics, books or even light novels from my world would do no harm, even if I wasn't the biggest reader. I'm gonna miss my TV. If someone questioned them, I could just say they aren’t from very well-known authors. Like that would fly. Lastly, I placed an armchair in the corner opposite my bed. I liked sitting sideways on them and letting my feet dangle off the armrest.

With my work finished, I took a couple steps back to look at my magnum opus.

It had a familiar feel to it, that made me feel at peace yet sad, given the circumstances.

“Was that your room back at home?” Raynard suddenly stood next to me.

“Yeah, it was. Still is.” Barring a few details.

“Same here. That view from that window shows the exact same things I would see, when I looked out the window back at home.”

While our situations definitely couldn’t be more different, I was quite in awe of how considerate he was.

“About that bookshelf,” he asked, “did you try filling it up with books you read?”

“Of course,” I answered.

“Won’t work,” he said, taking a step forward and taking a book out of the shelf. “This magic only replicates things as much as you can remember them. And how likely is it that you remembered a book in its entirety?”

He handed me a random volume of American Kitsune, and I proceeded to flip through the pages. Most of them were white, except for a couple of sentences that actually stuck in my mind.

“I tried the same when I made my shelf. Turns out I must actually buy books or, you know, get ahold of them some way.”

With a sigh I put the book back to its place.

“Well so much for that.”

Suddenly he put a hand on my shoulder. “Let me show you something really cool. Get onto your bed,” he said as he jumped onto his own. After I also got into my bed he said, “watch this,” and with a quick snap of his finger he turned the light off. Instead, above our heads the ceiling gave off the light of what must have been a thousand stars against the backdrop of the dark cosmos.

“Wow.” In that moment I thought I might just stay here.

“So will you be staying here over the summer?” he asked me.

“Not quite. I still have to do my, er, internship.”

“Oh yeah. That,” he said with a troubled expression.

“So, what are you doing for your internship?” According to the principal summer break was only another month. Maybe he'd have something interesting to tell.

“Oh, eh ... nothing at all.” His cheeks took on a slightly lighter skin tone, as he twitched with embarrassment.

“What? That’s not good!” I voiced my honest opinion.

“Yeah, thing is, I couldn’t find one.”

“Why is that?”

“A good portion of the students have some connections, through their family or what. Also, I was hiding in my room for like a week, because final exams were really draining.”

“Wow, and they expect you to do this every year?” I was really lucky that Shelly decided to just forge some documents for me, so I didn't have to worry about that. But considering I've never even applied for anything ever, I might get into trouble come next summer.

“Not quite. First and second years are exempt. They haven't yet obtained their junior magic license, so they aren’t even allowed to take part in the practical trimester.”

That was a lot of information at once, which I didn't know how to put to use.

"Okay, first of all, what is a junior magic license, secondly which year are you in? Because something about those internship rules doesn't make sense."

"You obtain the magic license after finishing your third year at Ataraxia. It allows you to use magic outside of school in a limited capacity."

Right, I think Shelly said something about unauthorized magic before.

"Also, I'm about to enter third year, same as you. Which is why we're on the third floor."

"Ah, so we count as third years already, despite the new school year not having started yet?"

"Exactly. Was your school different?"

I replied with a delayed "yes." I will have to think of a proper fake backstory sometime.

“Alright, one last question. What was that about the practical trimester?”

“Sure. Every year during the middle trimester, years three to six have the option to additionally take part in a practical trimester after winter break, which usually comes in the form of a tournament or such. But only if their grades are good and not likely to drop due to extra pressure.”

"Why would you willingly get beaten up, or beat someone up though?" I questioned.

"Depending on your performance you get a certificate declaring you combat ready, making it easier for you to join the police force, or the army, or whatnot."

I was so thankful for him not to question my lack of knowledge. “This school sure seems to be practice-oriented,” I commented. "Internship, practical trimester, all that."

“Well, what use is there in knowing how to blow up things, if you don’t get to blow up things?”

“Wow, is this your real persona?” I joked.

“Just you wait, until you see me in action,” he answered with a smug expression. We shared a nice laugh, after which Raynard said: “Or not, considering they might expel me, before obtaining my license.”

I rubbed my forehead in response to this. For whatever reason I wanted to help this guy, but I didn't know how. It's not like you could conjure an internship out of thin air ... except you could.

"What would you say, if I could retroactively get you an internship?" I suggested.

"I'm all ears," he immediately perked up.

"It's a bit illegal ..."

"Nevermind."

"... but it's with the police, so you won't get in trouble!"

"Having the police forge my documents sounds even worse, than just forging them myself?"

"Well, what choice do you have? Get expelled or risk getting expelled."

"Compelling point you have there."

“So, deal?”

“You bet!” He stood up from his bed and offered me his hand. I grasped it and pulled myself up on it.

This is going to be fun!