Clouds of gray highlighted by warm hues defined the ceiling’s texture. Once more Cymir awoke to the world with eyes looking upwards. Wrapped in a blanket a giggle escaped the youth’s lips. The vibrant, yet violent, conclusion of the incantation flourished and still captivated him. An everlasting heat paired with the confluence of destruction were unforgettable as he once read. No, it was more than simple words upon papers. Such majesty still lingered on the youth’s fingers. Shame the magic’s full breath could not be witnessed.

  An evening light drew his gaze from the cloud-esk ceiling. Orange skies with a trailing gradient to night. Sunset he thought. Seemed the time had skipped forward without him. Nothing new.

  Spending minutes watching the first stars flicker, the student’s unfocused gaze turned to the room around him. White, clear, and gray. Glass cabinets lined the floor underneath countertops. Towels, bags and other necessaries were all neatly organized within. The scent of medicine and sanitization signified the location. An undesirable place to wake up, but fitting nonetheless.

  Eyeing an ever-worn satchel, dangling from the coat rack, the youth crawled out of bed. An overflowing wave of fatigue crashed through him. Tumbling to the tiled ground before a single step could be made. Arms instinctively extended out to soften the blunt of the fall followed by a voice of disdain. A swear under haggard breaths. Of course it was like that, why would it not. Fighting against the anguish in his limbs he shakingly stood up. In and out. Instinctively recalling the smell in petrichor with burnt leather.

  Nostalgic. As the fragrant memory lingered a breath, the altered scent cycled throughout the youth. From limb to limb, worldly senses rushed through as if a thread sew them back together. Snapping the youngster’s yawning body awake with freshness. However such moments never last as he cupped his mouth. What did he even eat today?

  Somehow with an intact stomach he pushed out through the room’s wooden door. Right? Left? Right? Not a single person in sight. Although the evening hours approached, someone should be around. As always against better judgment he deemed to leave and so walked on with nothing but time.

  Step by step, upon the polished floor, Cymir’s mind began to wander in the warmly-lit corridor. Touching the cold walls, tied to echoing steps, unreminiscent thoughts surfaced. Shaking those off, he recalled recent memories instead. Latching on to that moment to linger there once more. Although the wonders of such felt fantastical, a smile of pure joy could not be had.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Along and around corners of the quiet halls stairs finally came into view. A giant number painted the wall across the hall. Fourth floor. He frowned. Of course it had to be so. Sighing with annoyance at the unneeded distance, he headed down. Though unlike the echoing halls the stairwell was lit by a wall of windows. Beyond the glass stood structure of boarded concrete with blue twinkles. It continued it seems.

  After descending such flights of stairs, once more the student ventured through the building. Unlike the corridors above, this space reached tall and wide. It reminded him of a youthful time. She must have felt the same. Still not a single person to be seen. Not willing to dally he could do nothing else but to leave. Luckily the prior exhaustion faded, and so the youth followed the subtle reflection of signage. Without a single thought nor hesitation, mostly energetic, he left the building.

  Through a pair of metal-framed doors, the medical scent prior dissipated along with the soaked scent of earth. Leaving only cold, salty air. Back to square one, Cymir thought. Should the morning’s activities be retread? Perhaps towards the testing grounds? There were many more magics he desired to witness- sniffing an inviting scent, maybe not.

  Food, such a tasteful smell beckoned. In the moment of clarity the stomach’s rumblings were finally heard. Where was the cafe again? Its location slipped from the youth’s memories. In resignation he walked on, idleness never solved hunger. If only he ended up at the University of Estuary. Finding such necessaries would have been a simple matter. Hopefully following the warm scent held enough purpose.

  Yet not a step around the near corner the pleasant trail devolved into a putrid spiciness. Stunned by the sudden change, the student could not but jump in pain. His nostrils burnt. Danger. Distracted by the blaze within his senses he failed to step straight. One foot kicking another led him tumbling as graceful as stones.

  Rubbing his head an outstretched hand appeared before him. Seemed the fall had, unfortunately, been noticed. Unceremoniously, yet hesitantly, accepting the offer the student was yanked up. Caught off guard by the sudden strength his feet danced a few moments before finding their footing. Coming to a pause, Cymir’s eyes met with the kind person’s and froze.

  The last shade of night before dawn could only describe both of the eyes and messy hair before the youth. Such a hue brought a sudden call of nostalgia. Not one of distant longing but one of old joys. The ethereal feeling of amazement for a long-awaited character. A whisper of a cool breeze seemed to welcome the person before him. Despite their unmemorable appearance and a year or two his senior, they had eyes of confidence. As if able to bend the world around them. Under the evening sky said introductions could be considered picturesque.

  Cymir, who regained his senses, blurted, “Who the fuck are you!?’