The warehouse was enormous, with all sorts of things - home furnishings, kitchen sets, a huge selection of clothes and shoes, and many other things for which we could only speculate. Separately, there were the suitcases that Tim had already seen in the hands of the other pupils. One of the dwarves dressed in a green coat (the other dwarf had a blue coat and was currently serving the tilfing), assessing Tim's figure at a glance, handed him one of the suitcases.
"There are two sets of clothes inside: everyday and uniform. Uniforms are mandatory for classes and ceremonial events held at school. The bedding is already in your room, changed every two weeks. Also you can find in the suitcase all necessary supplies for studying: grimoire, sheets for rough notes, stylus and so on."
"What a grimoire is?"
"Notebook for spells recording," the dwarf explained patiently. "And now follow me, you'll have to get your own wand which is the most important thing of all."
They came to a rack on shelves of which there were mini-pointers, each about thirty or forty centimeters long, with unique, unlike other colors and decorations on their surfaces. And the material used to make them was not the same either - wood, stone, glass and metal were almost equally represented here. There must have been at least two hundred of them in all - there was plenty to choose from.
"And if I lose it, will I get a replacement?" the tilfing who had already acquired his own wand, a wooden stick with whorls, asked merrily.
"For sure. But before you'll be knocked into the middle of next week. After it you'll hardly forget your wand anywhere."
"All right. Catch up!" the last was referred to Tim, and the tilfing run to the exit with a hop.
"Which of the wands may I take?"
"Any. But if you want to find the one that's really yours, try to call it mentally. And accept one that has responded you."
Listening to the advice Tim closed his eyes and stretched out the palm of his right hand. Indeed, a moment later a wand came to be in it: hexahedral, made from the strange material resembling dark lilac plastic, but much heavier.
"It's very interesting," commented the dwarf. "In my memory, no one has ever chosen this wand. Or, more precisely, it didn't choose anybody. And I am working here for almost seventy years."
"May be better I'll take another one?"
"Why? What's wrong with this one?"
Tim did not argue, although there were some wands on the shelves that he liked better. And, not wanting to hold up the line he left the warehouse.
"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 went upstairs. There was another hall, right in the middle of which Tim saw a construction resembling Japanese garden of stones. In the centre of it there was white-marble obelisk on which at closer look one could make out a half-erased inscription: 'Just on the place Great Master Naergin, the founder of Jelshakh's school of the Magical Arts, proclaimed the main principles of its existence: everyone with magical abilities can come and study here independently of his origin, race, sex or faith'.
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 the world, Tim realized. That's what the goblin had meant about the feast when the pink eye lit up. It's worth hurrying - pink follows orange. Although, considering how many people are still just about to get their suitcases, he has some time on his hands.
But the ghost seemed to think otherwise: without delaying it turned into one of the tunnels. They passed two doors across from each other; the inscriptions on them in Tim's brains were automatically transformed in the words 'Shower' and 'Toilet'. So, the miraculous ring does not only make it possible to understand other people's speech, but also to read any writings! It is interesting will they be allowed to keep their rings after finishing the school? In theory it should be, otherwise how he will be able to communicate with former classmates afterwards? The main thing at that moment was not to lose the ring, but it fixedly 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 bore the number "30".
"Your room," it whispered. "Touch the door, and it will remember you."
Tim placed his palm cautiously against the cool stone surface. The door smoothly slid backward. And a few seconds later it closed automatically behind him.
That's handy, and you don't have to carry around your keys risking to lose them. But what the principle of interaction is used here? Reading of the fingerprints? The uniqueness of the bioenergetical envelope of a body commonly called an aura, surrounding every living being? Purely mechanical relation of an owner-thing type? It's probably best not to talk about retinal scanning, let alone DNA analysis. It would be nice to ask somebody about it, but whom? Well, maybe it will be cleared with time.
Fortunately, there was a window in the room. What's more, there was also a balcony! It was accessible through another door, which also opened at a touch. Tim did not hesitate and climbed out - how could he not admire the beauty of the unfamiliar world!
The bright crimson sun - just like in a dream. That's where those visions came from! There must be some birds with rainbow plumage, but there were none to be seen. Only tatters of pale purple clouds floated leisurely by. Could it be that their school was so high up!? Cautiously leaning over the railing Tim looked down, and he was dizzy. Below him was a steep precipice, which after a couple of kilometers gradually descended into a gentle slope. Then a carpet of greenery stretched further - grass, bushes or trees, it was impossible to tell from this distance. The waterline glittered on the horizon. Was it a river or the sea - how to check it without skills of flying or alpinism? May be for preventing such attempts sturdy iron rods screwed into the railing, arching upward so nobody can easily climb over it and fall down.
"Hey!" he was hailed from a neighboring balcony.
Tim turned around. It was his new acquaintance.
"Good thing they settled us nearby! I was afraid they'd put someone else in your place if you stayed in the warehouse too long."
"The dwarves hardly allowed me to stay there for a long time."
"May I drop in on you?"
"Certainly!"
And Tim returned back into the room.
"Ask the door to open, otherwise I can't get in!"
Tim had to touch the door again.
"In fact, if the owner inside he can do it mentally," the tilfing remarked entering the room.
"How did you know that?"
"From a ghost. I wondered if all the doors were like that, or if there were some that had a normal lock on them."
"Why do you need to know that?"
"My innate gift is the ability to pick locks with the magic of the Illusory Key," the tilfing winked slyly at Tim. "I'll show you sometime if I can 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 some advice."
"And I just grabbed the one I liked without listening to any of the chatter. You'd think dwarves knew magic!"
Indeed, in the online games Tim logged in regularly on the Earth, dwarves were usually offered the warrior or guard option (with the immutable axe in their strong hands); they weren't as good at magic as elves. But how would the tilfing know that?
"Why do you think so?" he wondered.
"Would a real wizard work in a warehouse? We don't have people who are good at magic who would ever do that kind of nonsense!"
"Neither would our wise men. And what do 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 even doesn't know from which end to take a wand. That is why he hired hill-sized bodyguard! Otherwise how to avoid jokes from pupils? I can device such a joke that nobody understands who is the author!"
"He might be wearing something that protects him from the effects of magic. And that wouldn't end well. It's better not to make haste."
"Yeah, I didn't think about the enchanted things against the effects of magic. Well, let's not be hasty. By the way, we haven't met yet! I'm Ri-Bo, and you are?"
"Timothy."
"It's a pity you don't have horns!"
"Why?"
"Then we would be able to butt! We do it when make the 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 of our neighbors?"
"No."
"So it's time to get to know them!"
"Are you not afraid of meeting anzimars among?"
"It seems they stayed in the end of the queue; mainly girls and a couple of elves were ahead us. Well, may be later. Now change dress, I'll drop in on you again after some time!"
And he ran away. Before following the advice Tim looked around at the apartment where he was now going to live. There, on Earth, he also had his own room - small, but very cozy. A sofa-bed, a wardrobe, a bookshelf, a TV, a table with a computer. And a number of knickknacks like a crassula on the windowsill or posters on the walls. As long as the doppelganger doesn't start redecorating in his own way! He shouldn't if he really is his precise copy. There is a bed, a table and a wardrobe here, too, but different - more monumental, made of heavy wood. Directly above the bed was an eye-circle just like the one in the "garden of stones," but, of course, significantly smaller in size. Near it there was something like a datasheet. When Tim came close to it, he could make out nine squares filled with numbers from 1 to 25. Probably the local calendar, he thought, and then the local year has a total of 225 days. His surmise was confirmed by the inscription at the top: the year 2739 from the founding of the school. Wow!!! No other school on the Earth could boast such longevity. The numbers in three squares and partly in the fourth were crossed out by the former lodger of the room. It is interesting who was he? An elf? Orc? Anzimar? Or someone else? He was hardly destined to find out, unless by chance.
After it Tim counted the eyes. There were fifteen of them. So there are fifteen hours in the day. Most likely, the local hour is longer than the earth hour, otherwise the pupils would have no time to study and sleep. In any case, he would have to get used to the local schedule.
Then he unpacked the suitcase, just by running a finger along the seam, darker than the rest of the surface. Firstly he discovered the uniform; contrary to the fashion accepted on the Earth neither mantle nor pointed hat were not a part of it. It looked more like a tracksuit than anything else - a long-sleeved shirt of soft, comfortable fabric, pants of the same material, elegant black ankle boots and a headdress in the form of a cap. Daily clothes differed from the uniform in color - gray instead of magenta. The clothes were supplemented with several pairs of underpants and socks. Under the clothes there was a package containing school supplies. In it Tim found a weighty, encyclopedia-sized notebook, bound in leather, the pages of which were made not of paper, but from unusual material resembling two-layer polyethylene film reinforced with a thin metal net between the layers. A ballpoint pen would hardly leave any mark on such a surface. So instead of it there was a cylindrical rod one end of which was pointed and the other, on the contrary, rounded. It must be the stylus that the dwarf had mentioned. Once in a history class the teacher said that chroniclers of the ancient world used it to write on wax tablets, and the rounded end allowed them to erase what was written. In recent times other styluses have appeared - miniature sticks with a silicone tip by touching of which a sensor panel you can control a computer or smartphone, as well as to make sketches on a graphic tablet. However, the rod that Tim was holding in his hands was closer to the "historical" version by design - and where in the world of magic would modern gadgets come from? Just out of interest Tim took stylus in his right hand and tried to write on the first page of the grimoire his own name. Contrary to his fears, there was no need to scratch the paper - even a slight touch left a distinct mark on it. Turning the stylus over, he tried to wipe what he had written, and succeeded again - it took no more effort than wiping dust off with a rag. It is very comfortably: he will be able to correct an error or remove a picture (in dreaminess condition, when homework was too complicated or the lesson was too boring, Tim sometimes made various drawings of funny little people or flowers in the margins) before a teacher notes it.
After taking inventory of the contents of the suitcase Tim looked into the wardrobe. There was a thick soft mattress and a set of bedclothes, and all that was left was to make the bed. He had never liked to do that, but he had to - three years ago his mother had declared that he was old enough to take care of himself. But now it would come in handy. Surely there would be some among his new classmates for whom this would be a problem.
Then he touched one of the twinkles on the wall with his finger. It turned out to be varicolored moss (more correctly, a plant very similar to the moss) in contradistinction to its terrestrial analogue having the ability to light. In future they almost certainly will be trained to use magical light but now he had to be satisfied with these twinkles.
Then he thoroughly inspected the wand that "chose" him. Here and there on its facets there were scarcely noticeable symbols, but what they mean Tim could not realize: this time the ring refused to help. Closer to thickened end of the wand he found bulge and gently pressed it, but without any effect. Well, he'll come back to it later.
The orange eye gradually began to fade and the pink one, accordingly, to flare up. It's time to put on the uniform.
As soon as he did it, the tilfing appeared again wearing exactly the same magenta suit.