In the compact 68th floor of the Babel tower, it was no wonder that students shared rooms.
However, that did not apply to me, who was feared by both the student body and the school’s administration.
My quarters were meant for more than two students. Four, at most.
When I arrived at my dorm, leaving a trail of water and sludge along the way, I was not greeted by the cheerful noises made by companionship.
Instead, there was silence and the tweeting of birds of many kinds.
There was darkness until I pressed the light switch and the bulbs ignited all at once.
My room consisted of one bed for me, a small kitchen with a bowl of oranges, a bathroom, and the void.
I immediately stripped.
I had dropped off my toga in the laundry station and, since I couldn’t walk around campus bare naked, was now only wearing the official uniform of the Colegio. Though, that itself was also slightly damp.
Tossing my clothes in a laundry basket, I trotted to the bathroom.
Before that, however...
I eyed the reflection of my body in front of a full-length mirror.
My body that was akin to misshapen a rubber eraser with specks of hair and discoloration around, was nothing but the frame of a sickly or fragile child.
I may have been nearly a hundred and eighty centimeters tall, but my body was still nearly precarious and was quite lanky.
A mage is closer to a dead man.
...could I gain muscle despite my being a mage?
Even with my body’s decomposition?
It was a thought that I wanted to dive in more.
And, to add fuel to the fire, there were stitches all around. Amongst miniscule stitches such as on my knee, there was one across my torso as though I had been slashed, one that surrounded my neck, and...
I turned around so that the back of my body faced the mirror, averting my face so that my sight was on the mirror.
...a large and trauma-inducing stitching on my spine.
It was as though someone had sliced my back open then stitched it closed.
I attempted to reach for it, feel the thread, but was unable to.
Breathing in, I turned away from the mirror and took a dip in the hot bath.
Once my body was submerged, I thought about my school life.
...still no friends, huh.
It wasn’t like there was a need for friends.
And I for sure don’t want to include the Bohemians in my life any more than they currently are.
Curiosity kills the cat, as they say.
One day, these Bohemians’s doings, their curiosity, it would all come back to bite them in arse.
And I refuse to be a part of that.
However, I could not dismiss them at all.
Solomon Kenley Balt.
He existed.
He existed once. I was certain of that.
Earlier, I had encountered Braham "Bunny" Lee.
And one of the test papers he was likely checking fell from the stack he held.
It was a list of students and their scores.
On top of the list where the student with the highest score was written...
...was a blurred name.
By then, I had been sure that these Bohemians weren’t faking situations on the fly for attention.
This was reality.
This mysterious and magical world...
I was now a part of it.
However...
Whether he was simply dead or off the grid, I shouldn’t care any less.
I was only studying here to learn more about the current world. Maybe find out about my past.
And not, for sure, to frolic around or become possible accomplices with a murderer.
The next day, my first period class, Supernatural Anatomy I, took place in the chapel.
Upon entrance, each student could see the highly gory "elephant" of the room.
Whispers on what this creature was reverberated like waves.
...to be honest, I wasn’t very keen on meeting with Braham again. Unusually, I wished that he wouldn’t interact with me. Though, I was also certain that he would continue to do exactly that.
I seated myself on one of the pews that were near the back so that Braham wouldn’t have to face me.
"Howdy, mate."
This voice...
I twirled around to face the owner of the voice.
"Hello, Basil."
"Do you remember him any clearer? Lemon, I mean."
Basil was crouching on one of the pews as though he was about to pray. Instead, he was speaking with me.
From behind Basil, I could see Samreah walking after him.
"...good morning, Regulus," she said, looking exhausted.
"Morning."
"Regulus," Basil started. "Would you believe me if I said that Lemon’s family had forgotten him as well?"
I knew that Lemon referred to the forgotten person, Solomon.
I was taken aback at his statement.
"How do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said. Have I told you?"
"You haven’t," said Sam, who had dark bags under her eyes, as she rubbed her face.
Basil snapped his fingers.
"Makes sense. Regulus, please listen to me.
"That Solomon...The mage potion that his family owns...The mage title he consumed..."
He closed the distance to me gradually, his voice barely a whisper.
"Magus Prophetes.
"The prophet.
"Or, if translated directly from ancient Latin, Mage of Prophecies.
"This mage title—"
Braham entered, students continuing to chatter, and he clapped his palms loudly to silence the class.
"All right, class. Settle down—"
His voice could be heard in the background.
"—curses the mage in exchange for a vision from the near future. This vision will usually show when the end of the world will occur or when a great disaster will come.
"Solomon is given great knowledge in exchange for the erasure of the entirety of his existence."
In the podium of the chapel was an entity that was likely to be two meters tall.
Its humanoid body was tied with wire and into where its heart would probably be was a javelin. Through its wings were a myriad of more javelins, fixing him in place.
It groaned in pain.
But we could not discern its blurry face.