"How did you like your breakfast?" the man asked me as we left the dining room.
"Cool," I answered honestly. "Especially the pancakes. Why are you smiling?"
"Simple. It's always nice to see children who can still enjoy ordinary things," he replied.
"Actually, I'll be thirteen soon," I told him. "So I'm not a child anymore."
"Of course," he nodded and stopped smiling. "Sorry, Maxim. I didn't mean to offend you."
We walked in silence for a minute, and then he began to speak:
"Let's get acquainted, Temnikov. I'm Roman Artemovich Gromov, Professor of the Dark Arts at this school. Considering you've been assigned to one of my classes, we'll be seeing each other often, young man."
"So you are my class teacher?"
"Something like that," Gromov chuckled.
"Why are you a Professor of the Dark Arts? Do you have a lot of them?"
"Five. One for each year of study. For example, you ended up in the Dark Arts classroom of your first year, understand?"
"Yeah."
"By the way, I need to give you your uniform today," he looked at me and shook his head. "Otherwise, you're walking around school like... Anyway, don't forget to go to the school cloakroom and get your uniform, got it?"
"Got it," I nodded. "And where is it?"
"Here, in the main building. The library, where you'll be able to get your textbooks, is also here. So don't forget to stop by there."
"Okay, and when?"
"Well, I'll give you a tour of the school now, tell you a little about what's going on here, and then you'll have free time until this evening," Roman Artemovich replied. "You can take care of your personal affairs."
"It's clear."
At that moment, a thunderous rumble was heard somewhere near the cafeteria, followed by girls' squeals. A minute later, the hall was filled with the clatter of hundreds of feet, and students rushed out of the main building and into the street.
"What happened?" Gromov asked menacingly of one of the students, whose hand he had grabbed.
"Bubnov has some stomach problems, the air is fouling him... He can't sit still... The elders took him to the medical unit..."
"The hell knows what this is," Gromov shook his head. "They're like little children, they can't even eat in peace."
At that moment, I barely managed to keep from smiling. Considering Dorian was laughing like a horse, it wasn't easy!
"Okay, Temnikov, let's get some fresh air," the Professor said to me. "Something really smells strange here..."
We emerged from the main building onto a large green clearing, with a fountain in the center. Numerous paths led from it to other buildings. One definitely led to our bedrooms, I already knew that. But where the others led was still unclear.
Gromov was in no hurry to leave. He waited until the crowd of students dispersed and continued:
"Besides what you already know, the main building also houses classrooms, teachers' offices, and all sorts of other stuff like that," he looked at me and shrugged. "Students don't usually gravitate to this building, for some reason... Strange, right?"
"I don't know. Maybe the teachers are boring?"
"Hmm... I never really thought about that... I'll have to throw this idea out in the staff room for everyone to consider."
"And what is that board on legs to the right of the entrance?"
"It's an information board," Gromov replied. "They post all sorts of information and announcements there. The students just call it the Board."
"What announcements? School ones?"
"Not necessarily," the Professor shrugged. "For example, people from neighboring towns are constantly posting information about part-time jobs for students. After all, we have Gifted students. You understand; there's always work for good mages everywhere. Especially in a special place like ours. We have the very best studying here."
"Will I also be able to go to neighboring cities?"
"I don't know yet. It's unclear how they'll decide in your case... You seem to be an exception to the rule, too young. Actually, all first-year students are allowed."
"It's good that everyone can; I love visiting new places. Are there many neighboring cities?"
"Two. Belozersk and Dubravino. But the students usually go to Belozersk. There's a regular bus from the school, and the town is bigger there. There are shops, restaurants... Overall, life is quite busy, unlike Dubravino; there's not even a police station there."
"Roman Artemovich, you said that we have a special place here. What does that mean?"
"Well, let's say, with increased danger. Are you from the Moscow Principality?"
"Yes."
"You rarely have magical storms there, which means Distortions don't happen often, but here, on the contrary, storms happen regularly... It happens near all the schools of magic. Probably because there are too many Gifted in one place," he looked at me. "Understood?"
"Not really."
"Well, look, we have a lot of magical storms, which means a lot of Distortions are appearing, but what does that mean?"
"These are dangerous things. I heard on the news that they are usually destroyed."
"Right," he nodded. "But it's not a safe thing. It's easy to get in, but hard to get out. That's why we even have several special groups of Gifted for this purpose in Belozersk. And there are plenty of mercenaries who do this. They have all sorts of squads, all squabbling among themselves... Although that's of no use to you, I think you get the gist of the matter."
"Yeah."
"In general, there are plenty of interesting things in the city. It's impossible to list them all at once."
"Roman Artemovich, why are there no buildings around the school? I looked out the window and all I saw was a lake and a forest."
"White Lake and the Phantom Forest," the Professor corrected me.
"Why Phantom? Are there ghosts there?"
"Because that's what they called it a thousand years ago, and that's what it's been called ever since," Gromov smiled. "You're a real questioner, Maxim. You're never boring. Okay, let's move on."
He walked along the path towards the residential block, but he didn't answer my question, so I had to repeat it:
"Roman Artemovich, you still haven't said why there are no buildings near the school?"
"Normal people don't want to live near us, Temnikov, what can you do," he replied, not slowing his pace. "You can't force them, right? There were attempts a couple of hundred years ago, but they still scattered to neighboring towns, so in the end we decided it was better this way."
"I see. And why do all the students have different patches on their uniforms?"
"Why everyone? Each class has its own. The Dark Arts have their own kind of stripes, the elemental classes have their own, and so on... Have you logged into your personal account on the school website yet?"
"Nope. I just arrived yesterday, so I didn't have time."
"After our walk, read it," Gromov advised me. "A ton of questions will disappear. At least you'll know what classes exist at Kitezh."
Good idea. I decided to do just that.
"Just don't forget to get your login information at the library and change your password later, got it?"
"Yeah."
Meanwhile, we approached the six-story building where the students lived. Near the entrance, I saw a plaque exactly like the one near the main building. So, they have one here too, we'll know.
"Well, what kind of building is this, I don't think I need to tell you?" the Professor asked me as he passed by.
"I live here, Roman Artemovich. On the second floor. But my windows face the other side, where there's a park."
"Well, yes, this is a residential block, where all the students live. A student dorm, as you call it. Five years; five floors. The teachers are separate; in a different building."
"There are six floors here, aren't there?"
"Nobody lives on the first floor; it's utility rooms," Gromov explained. "Laundry, common room, linen rooms, ironing rooms, and all that stuff..."
"And where does the Professor custodian sit?"
"What makes you think he's here?"
"Well, there is one in the main building... He was watching me through the cameras... So he must be spying on us here too..." I suggested.
"You're mistaken, Temnikov. There's no caretaker in the residential block," he paused and narrowed his eyes. "And there are no cameras, by the way. The parents of our students really don't like the idea of someone spying on their children. I think you understand the kind of families that have children here. So be careful, if anything happens..."
"Don't worry, Roman Artemovich, I'm not going to do anything like that to them," I promised him.
"You're something else, Maxim," he chuckled. "I'm telling you this for everyone's information... After all, all the other kids are older than you. Even your classmates are at least fourteen, and you're only twelve."
"Ah, I see... Thanks for the information."
"You're welcome," he shook his head, looked at me strangely, and we walked on.