Something was wrong. Even with his eyes still closed, Raphael could tell something had changed. The smell wasn’t the same. The texture beneath his back was unfamiliar. And the silence was different… it wasn’t the kind of silence you get in a city, or even at home. It felt deeper. Wilder. There was a stillness to it. Like the world was holding its breath.

  He opened his eyes and stared at the sky for a few seconds. Wait. The sky?

  Above him he saw treetops stretched high into the air, their thick green canopies swaying gently in the breeze. Sunlight streamed between the leaves, casting dappled shadows across his chest. Confusion crept in slowly, as if his mind were trying to align the input with reality and couldn’t quite figure out what to do with it.

  This wasn’t his bedroom. Not even his apartment.

  He sat up abruptly. The wooden sts of the bench felt slightly cool against his palms. His back ached faintly from the awkward position, and a faint breeze kissed the back of his neck, carrying scents that didn’t belong to his world.

  He was lying on a wooden bench. In a park. In some completely unfamiliar pce. Raphael rubbed his eyes. Did I... sleep in a park?

  He looked around in astonishment. Around him stretched a park so beautiful it almost felt unreal. Wide paths paved with colourful cobblestones wound between raised flowerbeds brimming with blooms in every colour imaginable—some he recognized, others so exotic he wasn’t sure they existed outside fantasy books. Delicate violet spirals curled around taller golden stalks, while clusters of silver-petaled flowers shimmered faintly, as if dusted with morning frost. Butterflies flitted zily from bloom to bloom. The air was rich with floral scents and birdsong, and the faint gurgle of a nearby fountain.

  Somewhere nearby, the sound of leaves rustling and girl’s ughter floated through the trees. It was peaceful—almost too peaceful.

  People were moving around, some strolling leisurely, others in small groups heading toward a rge building nearby. A few had stopped to gnce his way—some with curiosity, others with subtle worry. A few whispered, pointing in his direction. Some girls even chuckled.

  He looked to his left. There was a building like something out of Oxford or an old European university. Definitely not Warsaw. Towering stone walls rose into elegant spires. Ivy climbed up the fa?ade, wrapping around carved arches and narrow balconies. Leaded windows gleamed in the sun, reflecting a sky so blue it seemed unreal. It looked ancient and majestic, yet somehow alive. He couldn’t help but feel like the building was watching him, the way an old tree might silently observe those who passed beneath its boughs.

  He touched his face, pinched his cheek to check if he was dreaming. He was still wearing his t-shirt and shorts, so at least he hadn’t gone to sleep naked this time — which, in his case, wasn’t so obvious. That would’ve been a real mess, waking up naked in a public pce.

  He chuckled dryly at the thought. That would’ve made for a great first impression.

  A soft breeze brushed against his skin, and he took a deep breath, trying to center himself. That’s when he noticed someone standing at the edge of the path. A handsome blonde boy, about his age, clutching a few books under his arm, was staring with his blue eyes at him as if he’d seen a ghost.

  – Hey… sorry, but where exactly am I? – Raphael called out.

  The boy blinked, his eyes widened, his mouth slightly open as if about to reply—but instead, he turned on his heel and sprinted toward the building.

  – Okay, I know I’m not at my best in the morning, but come on... – Raphael muttered, leaning forward and covering his face with his hands starting to feel little frustrated – What the hell is going on…

  He tried to remember everything from the night before. No serious alcohol, you can’t count a gss of wine. No parties. Just dinner, bed, peace and quiet. No missing time, no gaps. And yet—he had woken up here. Wherever here was. There was no expnation. No logic. Just the raw, gnawing sense that something beyond comprehension had occurred.

  A commanding male voice broke through his daze: – Excuse me, sir! Who are you?

  Raphael looked up. A man in his te forties was approaching in his direction from the building. He wore a tailored dark suit with a long, flowing coat that rippled behind him as he walked. His silver-streaked hair was neatly combed back, and a short beard framed his sharp, serious face. His eyes, however, were kind—piercing, but not unkind. There was something about him that radiated quiet authority. His steps were firm, purposeful, as if he walked not just with confidence, but with duty ingrained into every movement.

  – How did you get here? – the man asked coming closer.

  – Good morning – Raphael said, instinctively standing up. – I’m Raphael Enan and honestly… I have no idea how did I got here. I don't even know where here is. I went to sleep in my bed, and the next thing I know, I’m here. I’m a bit confused and disoriented.

  The man narrowed his eyes, studying him in silence for a moment, as if trying to decide whether he was being pranked, or perhaps boy is speaking the truth.

  – You truly don’t know where you are, young man? Nor how you got here? Impossible!

  Raphael shook his head.

  – Well, maybe it is impossible—and I’d be the first to agree—but here I am – he gestured around with open hands.

  – Come with me. – man ordered with a voice that brooked no objection.

  Not like I’ve got much of a choice, Raphael thought, and followed the man toward the stone building which looked like the main building of some institution. There were no signs, no names. The structure looked old and dignified — even more so because of the groups of people nearby who clearly looked like students. Most of them seemed about his age. Some paused to look at the stranger whose outfit definitely didn’t fit the setting.

  The closer they got, the more he noticed the details—the worn edges of the stone steps, the faint shimmer of enchantment over the crest above the door, the way the shadows fell at just the right angle to create a sense of timelessness.

  Up close, it was even more impressive. The main entrance stood beneath a rge archway, above which a stained-gss crest shimmered faintly in the sunlight. The thick oak doors opened silently, revealing a wide hallway floored with polished stone and lined with wooden paneling. High, vaulted ceilings soared above them, supported by carved columns that echoed a Gothic aesthetic. Warm light filtered in through tall windows, painting the floor with shifting patterns.

  Portraits of important-looking individuals lined the walls, their painted eyes following him as they passed. Every few meters, small alcoves housed statues or intricate, clearly magical, devices—spheres spinning in the air, glimmering crystals encased in gss domes, or softly humming runes etched into stone. Raphael’s steps slowed instinctively, his gaze caught by the smallest movements in the corner of his eye—was that a quill levitating on its own? A mirror that didn’t reflect what it should? He couldn’t help but think: What’s going on? What is this pce? And what am I really doing here?

  They climbed a grand staircase, its steps worn smooth by time. On the first floor, they stopped in front of a modest reception area. Behind a neat desk sat a woman in her sixties with silver hair tied in a bun and reading gsses perched on her nose.

  – Good morning, Ms. Harper. Is Professor Igneel in? – the man asked.

  – Yes. He said he’s expecting you. Apparently, you have a huge surprise for him.

  – Heh, him and his hunches – the man muttered, knocking on the heavy oak door beside her.

  From within, a deep voice responded: – Come in.

  – Good morning, Professor Igneel. Sorry to bother you, but something strange has happened. This young man appeared this morning on a bench in front of the school. I mean literally appeared! He says he doesn’t know where he is, or how he got here. I figured I should bring him to you.

  School? Raphael thought, startled.

  – Welcome. Thank you, Hubertus, you may go. And thank you for your vigince. As for you, young man – the older man said, turning his gaze toward Raphael – please, make yourself comfortable.