The storehouse was enormous, with all sorts of things - home furniture, kitchen sets, a huge selection of clothes and shoes, and many other things the purpose of which one could only guess. Separately there were the suitcases that Tim had already seen in the hands of other students. One of the dwarves dressed in a green frock coat (another dwarf-assistant had a blue frock coat and was currently serving the tilfing), having assessed Tim's figure at a glance, handed him one of the suitcases.

  "There are two sets of clothes inside: daily and uniform. The uniform is required for classes and special events held at the school. Bed linen is already in your room, changed every two weeks. Here are also all the necessary student supplies - a grimoire, sheets for rough notes, a stylus, and the like."

  "What is the grimoire?"

  "A notebook for writing down spells," the dwarf explained patiently. "Now follow me, you need to get the most important thing - your own wand. Without it, there is nothing to do at school."

  They approached a rack, on the shelves of which lay mini-pointers - each about thirty to forty centimeters long, with a unique, unlike any other coloring and decorations on the surface. And the material used to make them was also not the same - wood, stone, glass and metal were almost equally represented here. In total, there were probably at least two hundred of them - there was plenty to choose from.

  "And if I lose it by accident, will they give me a replacement?" the tilfing inquired cheerfully, having already managed to acquire his own wand - a wooden stick with curls.

  "Definitely. But first you will be punished well. After it you’ll hardly forget your wand anywhere."

  "Oh well. Catch up!" the last was for Tim, and the tilfing skipped towards the entrance.

  "Which of the wands can I take?"

  "Any. But if you want to find the one that's really yours, try calling it mentally. Take the one that responds, you won't go wrong."

  Taking the advice, Tim closed his eyes just in case and extended his right hand forward, palm up. A moment later there was indeed a wand in it - hexagonal, made of a material resembling dark purple plastic, but much heavier.

  "Very interesting," the dwarf commented. "As far as I can remember, no one has ever chosen this wand. Or rather, it didn’t choose anybody. And I've been working here for almost forty years."

  "Maybe it would be better to take another one then?"

  "Why? What's wrong with this one?"

  Tim didn't argue, although there were wands that he liked better. And, not wanting to hold up the line, he left the storehouse.

  "Follow me," with a howling whisper one of the ghosts commanded, and Tim had no choice but to obey.

  The tunnel led them back into the hall, and then they began to climb the stairs that ran in a circle along the walls. Again, a hall similar to the previous one, but smaller. Right in the middle of it was a structure reminiscent of a Japanese rock garden, and in the center of it was a white marble obelisk, on which at closer look one could make out a half-erased inscription: "On this very spot, Great Master Naergin, founder of the Jelshakh School of Magic, proclaimed the basic principles of its existence: anyone with the ability to do magic can come and study here, regardless of their origin, race, gender or beliefs.”

  On the opposite wall Tim noticed several multi-colored eyes, painted in the ancient Egyptian style, arranged in a circle. The orange eye glowed brightly, the others remained dim. The clock of this world, Tim realized. That's what the goblin had meant when he talked about the festive dinner when the pink eye lit up. It's worth hurrying - the pink one follows the orange one. Although, considering how many people still have to receive their things, he has some time to spare.

  However, the ghost seemed to think otherwise, because it turned into one of the tunnels without stopping. They passed doors located almost opposite each other, the ornate inscriptions on which formed the words 'Shower' and 'Toilet' in Tim's mind. So, the ring on his finger really does give the ability not only to understand someone else's speech, but also to read any writing! Such the ring would be useful on Earth too! It's interesting, will they be allowed to keep their rings after finishing school? It seems they should, otherwise how will he be able to communicate with his former classmates? The main thing is that it doesn't get lost by accident. But the ring was firmly situated on his finger not giving reasons for anxiety.

  The tunnel led them to a small corridor with five doors. The ghost headed for the one on the right, which had the number "30" on it.

  "Your room," it whispered. "Touch the door, and it will remember you."

  Tim carefully put his palm to the door, and it smoothly moved back. A few seconds later it automatically closed behind him.

  It's convenient, nothing to say, and no need to carry keys with you. It's interesting, what principle of interaction was used here? Reading of the fingerprints? The uniqueness of the bioenergetic shell commonly called the aura, surrounding every living being? A purely magical connection between the thing and the owner? It’s probably better not to mention here scanning the retina, let alone DNA analysis. It’s easier to ask one of the local staff if the opportunity arises. But not the ghosts – their howls are enough to give you goosebumps. The dwarves look nicer, but it won’t be easy to get them to talk. The goblin is unlikely to condescend to explain – apparently, he thinks of himself as a very important person. Well, maybe it will be cleared with time.

  Luckily, there was a window in the room. Moreover, there was a balcony! It could be reached through another door, which also opened when touched. Without thinking Tim went outside – how could he not admire the beauty of another world!

  The bright crimson sun – just like in his dream. That’s where those visions came from! Surely there were birds with rainbow plumage here, but now there was not a single one in sight. Only wisps of pale purple clouds slowly floated past. Was their school really located that high!?

  Tim carefully leaned over the railing, looked down, and felt dizzy. Below him was a steep cliff, which gradually turned into a gentle slope only after a couple of kilometers. Beyond that stretched a solid carpet of greenery – it was impossible to tell from such a distance whether it was grass, bushes, or trees. A surface of water sparkled at the very horizon. What was there – a river, a sea? If you can't fly, you won't get there. Moreover, you can’t fly from here anyway: iron pins were screwed into the railing, arching upward – you can stick your head through, but not squeeze through completely. Probably so that no one, playing too much, would fall down.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  "Hey!" someone called out to him from the neighboring balcony.

  Tim turned around. It was his new acquaintance.

  "It's good that they put us next to each other! I was afraid that if you stayed in the storehouse for too long, they would put someone else next to me."

  "I might have stayed, but I doubt the dwarves would have agreed to that."

  "Can I come and visit you?"

  "Yes!"

  And Tim returned to his room.

  "Ask the door to open, otherwise I won't be able to get in!" came from the corridor.

  Tim had to touch the door again.

  "In fact, the owner of the room can do it mentally," the tilfing noted, finding himself inside.

  "How did you find out about this?"

  "From the ghost. At the same time, I asked if all the doors here were like this, or if there were some that were locked with a normal lock."

  "Why do you need to know that?"

  "My innate gift is the ability to open locks with the magic of the Illusory Key," the tilfing winked slyly at Tim. "I'll show you sometime, if I find a suitable object. Oh, what a cool wand! Did you choose it yourself, or did you take the advice of the bearded shorty?"

  "I took the advice."

  "And I simply grabbed the one I liked, without listening to anyone's chatter. As if dwarves understand sorcery!"

  Indeed, in the online games Tim visited regularly, dwarves were usually offered the path of a warrior or a guard (with the axe as their weapon of choice); they weren't as good at magic as elves. But how could the tilfing know about this?

  "Why do you think so?" Tim asked curiously.

  "Would a real wizard work in a storehouse? Those of us who are skilled in magic would never engage in such nonsense!"

  "Like our sages. And what can you say about the goblin?"

  "The so-called Sir Pulsok? He is nothing more than bachu! (as was cleared further the bachus are bald, badger-like beasts, in addition evil-smelling). A hundred to one he doesn't even know which end of a wand to hold. That is why he hired a hill-sized bodyguard! Otherwise how to avoid jokes from the students? I can make such a joke that nobody understands who the author is!"

  "He might be wearing something that protects him from the effects of magic. And that wouldn't end well. Better not take any risks for now."

  "Yes, I somehow didn't think about things enchanted against magic. Okay, let's not rush. By the way, we haven't met yet! I'm Ri-Bo, and you?"

  "Timothy."

  "It's a pity you don't have horns!"

  "Why?"

  "Then we could butt heads! That's what we do when we make an acquaintance or simply greet each other!"

  "Well, maybe other tilfings are here and you can do it with them."

  "I haven't noticed them yet. Have you seen anyone else who was settled next to us?"

  "No."

  "Then it's high time to find out!"

  "Aren't you afraid of running into one of the anzimars?"

  "It seems they stayed at the end of the line; in front of us there were mostly girls and an elf. Okay, let's have lunch, and then we'll see. Get changed, I'll drop by again soon!"

  And he ran away. Before following the advice Tim looked around the apartment where he would now live. There, on Earth, he also had his own room - small, but very cozy. The bed, a wardrobe, a bookshelf, the TV, a table with a computer. Well, and a bunch of all sorts of trinkets like a crassula flower on the windowsill or posters on the walls. If only the double didn’t start remaking everything there in his own way! It seems he shouldn’t, if he really was his exact copy. Here was also a bed, a table and a wardrobe, too, but others - more monumental, made of heavy wood. Directly above the bed was exactly the same circle with eyes as in the hall with the 'rock garden', but significantly smaller in size.

  On the opposite wall was something like a table. Coming closer, Tim could make out nine squares filled with numbers from 1 to 25. Probably a local calendar, he thought. His guess was confirmed by the inscription above: 2739th year since the founding of the school. Wow!! Not a single educational institution on Earth could boast such longevity. The numbers in three squares and partly in the fourth one were crossed out – that was how the calendar was kept by the previous occupant of the room. It is interesting, who was he? An elf? An orc? An anzimar? Or someone else? Now it's impossible to know.

  Returning to the bed, Tim counted the eyes. There were fifteen of them. So, there were fifteen hours in a day here. Most likely, the local hour was longer than the Earth one, otherwise the students would have no time for either studying or sleeping. In any case, he would have to get used to the local routine.

  Then he unpacked the suitcase - for this it was enough to run his finger along the seam, darker than the rest of the surface. The same uniform was lying on top - contrary to the accepted fashion on Earth, neither a mantle nor a pointed cap were included in it. And in general, it was more reminiscent of a tracksuit - a long-sleeved T-shirt made of soft, pleasant to the touch fabric, pants made of the same material, as well as elegant half-boots and a cap-shaped headdress. Daily clothes differed from the uniform - gray color instead of magenta one, sandals instead of half-boots, and there was no headdress at all. In addition to the clothes there were several pairs of underpants and socks. Under the clothes there was a bag containing school supplies. There was also a weighty, encyclopedia-sized notebook in a leather binding, the pages of which were not made of paper, but rather of a two-layer polyethylene film, reinforced between the layers with a thin metal mesh. A ballpoint pen would hardly leave any trace on such a surface. Therefore instead of it a cylindrical rod was attached to the notebook, one end of which was pointed, the other, on the contrary, rounded. It must be the same stylus that the dwarf mentioned. Once, in a history lesson, the teacher told him and his classmates that with its help the chroniclers of the ancient world made notes on wax tablets, and the rounded end allowed them to erase what was written. In recent times, however, other styluses have appeared - miniature sticks with a silicone tip, by touching which a sensor panel you can control a computer or smart phone, as well as make sketches on a graphic tablet.

  However, the rod that Tim was now holding in his hands was closer in design to the 'historical' version – and where would modern gadgets come from in the world of magic? For the sake of interest, Tim decided to write his name on the first page of the grimoire. Contrary to his fears, he did not have to scratch the paper – even a slight touch left a clear mark on it. Turning the stylus over, he tried to erase what was written, and again succeeded – it required no more effort than removing dust with a rag. It's convenient: you can correct a mistake or remove a drawing that is not related to the topic of the lesson before the teacher notices it (when the task was difficult to solve right away or the lesson was too boring, Tim would sometimes thoughtfully draw funny little people or flowers in the margins).

  After taking inventory of the contents of the suitcase Tim looked into the wardrobe. There was a thick soft mattress and a set of bed linen, all that was left was to make the bed. Tim never liked doing this, but he had to – three years ago his mother announced that he was already old enough and quite capable of taking care of himself. But now it would come in handy. Surely among his new classmates here would be those for whom this would be a problem.

  Taking a break from the contents of the wardrobe, he touched one of the lights on the wall with his finger. It turned out to be multi-colored moss (or rather, a plant very similar to it), which, unlike the earthly one, had the ability to glow. In the future, they would most likely be taught to use magical light, but for now they would have to make do with this 'moss'.

  Finally, Tim carefully examined the wand that had 'chosen' him. On its facets there were scarcely noticeable symbols, but he couldn't figure out what they meant: for some reason, the translator ring refused to help. Closer to the thickened end of the wand he found a bulge and carefully pressed it, but nothing happened.

  The orange eye began to fade slowly, and the pink one, accordingly, began to flare up. It was time to change into the uniform.

  And as soon as he had time to do this, the tilfing appeared again - in exactly the same magenta suit.