We were led to two massive buildings standing parallel to each other. Five floors, austere stone... at first glance, everything seemed almost normal. But only at first.

  "That left building over there is the boys' dorm," the horse-guy pointed confidently. "And the right one is the girls' dorm." "Other way around," the scaly one replied lazily. "Left is girls, right is boys. At least, it was ten minutes ago."

  I didn't get a chance to ask how that worked because the buildings suddenly... came to life.

  A heavy grinding of stone against stone echoed out. The third floor of the left building suddenly slid smoothly out to the side like a dresser drawer, and with a hollow clank, plopped itself onto the roof of the right building, becoming the sixth floor. Immediately, the second floor of the right building flew out of its spot, traced an arc in the air, and smashed into the left building, occupying the empty niche on the fifth floor.

  I froze, staring at this magical remodeling. "Interesting system," Alexia and Lianel uttered in unison. Judging by their intonation, they were simultaneously amazed—and mentally hugging their native, stationary stone fortress.

  "Yep," the guides confirmed in chorus. "In theory, the floors have a schedule. On Monday you're on the third, on Tuesday you're on the sixth at the other end of the campus. Convenient."

  "Convenient?" I raised an eyebrow under my mask. "Are you serious? What if I urgently need to use the bathroom, and my floor decides to go on a trip at that exact moment?"

  "Well, that's the intrigue," the scaly guy smirked. "True, sometimes the algorithm glitches, and they start swapping randomly. Pro tip: don't get caught in doorways or on stair joints during a maneuver. This year, two students have already... well, let's just say they became part of the foundation."

  "Dead?" I clarified. "On paper, yes—smeared," the horse-guy corrected optimistically. "So stay alert."

  The scaly guy waved to someone in the crowd, and an elf girl walked over. The guide shoved a piece of paper with room numbers at her and nodded at the princesses: "Show the newbies where they're living."

  Then he shifted his gaze to me and pointed at his horse-partner: "He'll take you."

  We split up. Alexia and Lianel, without even looking back, headed for the right building with the air of mistresses of the universe who had simply decided to change their scenery. I trudged after the hooves into the left building.

  At the entrance to the dorm, we were met by a Guard. He looked like he personally guarded the gates to the Underworld and was extremely dissatisfied with his working conditions.

  "HALT!" he barked, blocking the path with a halberd. "What?" I stopped, examining him from under the mask.

  The man leaned forward, boring into me with a heavy gaze: "Kid, what's your favorite color?" "I don't know," I answered honestly. Colors changed in my head too often to have favorites. "Your favorite food?" "I don't know. Depends on how hungry I am." "Your favorite spell?" "I don't know. Whichever one comes to hand is my favorite."

  The guard froze. He slowly sat back down on his stool and shook his head with deep respect. "Good..." he muttered. "True emptiness of mind. Pass."

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  We started climbing the stairs. The layout here matched the gravity of the previous house: the steps narrowed, then widened. At some point, I felt an emptiness ahead. One of the steps was just a very high-quality illusion—step on it and you'd fly all the way down to the basement. I simply stepped over it.

  The guide froze, nearly tripping over his own hooves. "How did... how did you know?" he squinted suspiciously.

  I pretended I didn't know what he was talking about. "Know what?" "You stepped over the 'pitfall' step. Most newbies end up counting their ribs here." "Oh, no," I shrugged. "Just got lucky. Decided to take a wider step, my legs were cramping."

  The horse-man grunted but didn't press the issue. We reached the second tier. "Alright, today your floor is here. And here is your room..." he checked his notes. "Number 404."

  I almost chuckled. 404. Again. It seems the universe stubbornly keeps hinting that I am an error. "Thanks," I said.

  "Your roommate..." the guide hesitated, looking at the list. "Hmm. Strange. Very strange. Well, whatever, you'll see for yourself." He stepped up to the door, knocked shortly, and backed away. "You're on your own from here. Good luck, kid. Looks like you're going to need it."

  And he left, his hooves clacking on the parquet. I was left alone in front of the closed door. "A strange roommate?" I thought. I grabbed the handle.

  I pushed open the door to 404. Judging by the silence inside, the roommate was either not there or very busy.

  Sitting in the lotus position in the center of the room was a guy. Scaly. The scales were blindingly white, like snow on a frosty day. His hair was also white, looking stiff, almost bone-like, but still resembling human hair. Something small was sprouting from his shoulder blades—either the beginnings of wings or just bony protrusions.

  The moment I crossed the threshold, the idyll ended.

  The roommate spun around sharply, baring rows of sharp teeth. His gaze—two yellow lanterns with vertical predator slits—bored into me with unconcealed fury. He growled, low and threatening. He stood up, and I noticed a long, flexible tail that he was gripping in his hand. At the end of the tail flaunted a bone spike, suspiciously resembling a spearhead.

  "Who are you?" he hissed, not taking his eyes off me. "Looks like your new cellmate... I mean, roommate," I replied lazily.

  The guy sighed heavily, and a small cloud of steam puffed from his nostrils. "I specifically asked... I asked them not to room anyone with me." He gave me another once-over and waved his hand dismissively. "Come in, Human. Since there's no choice."

  I walked inside and immediately privatized the sofa. The roommate returned to his meditation, sitting right on the floor.

  "Listen," I looked around, "there's only one bed here. How are we splitting it?" "Not a problem," he cut me off. "I sleep on the floor. A bed is too soft for my bones."

  I looked at the spot where he was sitting. The stone floor beneath him wasn't just warm—it was scorched black. Apparently, the guy functioned as a personal space heater.

  "Convenient," I evaluated. "We'll save on heating. Listen, what exactly are you?"

  The white-haired guy sighed as if I'd just forced him to solve logarithms. "Ask fewer questions, and you'll sleep better. But..." he cracked one eye open. "Fine. I am an heir to the ancient clan of Dragonkin. They say our grandfathers were actual dragons. And we are what's left of them. Make sense now?"

  I nodded. Made sense. Just another "elite" with issues, carrying family drama on his shoulders instead of living a normal life.

  "And why are you wearing a mask?" he suddenly asked. "Afraid I'll eat you? They expel you for that at the Academy. Usually." "Alright, fine," I reached for the strings. "Since you revealed your secret, I'll reveal mine. Purely for the balance of the universe."

  I took off the mask and looked him right in his yellow eyes.

  The Dragonkin opened his other eye. His pupils dilated for a fraction of a second, then narrowed back down into slits. "Wow..." he muttered. "I thought those were just fairy tales for little lizards. To make them behave."

  He studied my eyes for another couple of seconds—one black, one gray—and then shrugged indifferently. "Whatever, nothing unusual. Just two different eyes. It happens. A genetic glitch or a botched spell."

  He closed his eyes again and dove back into his meditation, his entire posture showing that he was no longer interested in me.

  I stretched out on the sofa, feeling a pleasant heat radiating from the floor. It seemed I had gotten the perfect roommate: not talkative, doesn't snore, and can toast bread right on the floor.

  Life was starting to look up.