In order to not make things awkward Sylvester opted to introduce himself first.

“Since we’re gonna be roommates for the foreseeable future let me introduce myself. The name’s Sylvester Clearsight! A soon to be great magician.” Sylvester declared with a little bit of his magician-like flair as he extended his hand towards his roommate directly opposite him.

“Magician huh? Okay then.” The sweaty man grabbed a nearby white towel and wiped his left hand to remove the layer of sweat trickling down to his fingertips.

“Artian Vendrake.” The man replied as he shook Sylvester’s hand with a firm grip.

“So mr. Magician.” Artian talked in a slightly mocking tone. “Where you from?”

“From everywhere.” Sylvester quickly replied.

“Huh?” Artian then gave him a perplexed glance.

“I never had a permanent home and basically lived my life as a modern day magical nomad travelling from country to country.” Sylvester explained.

“Even so, I still went to school and underwent normal education. I have so many IDs I’ve lost count.” Sylvester said jokingly, trying to keep the mood light.

“Magical nomad huh? I’ve never heard anyone describe themselves as that. You’re a funny guy.” Artian replied, smiling.

“So, my turn now. Where are you from?” Sylvester now threw back the previous question.

“Me? I’m an Englishman born and raised. I’m on my home turf!” Artian declared a little too proudly.

“I don’t think this is England anymore, in fact we’re floating right in some kind of void if the headmaster is to be believed.” Sylvester cheekily corrected Artian.

“Ughh Don’t remind me. I still can’t believe that rainbow colored weirdo is the great Leonardo Da Vinci.” Artian said while scratching his head.

“Oh yeah I almost forgot. Your luggage is probably in that cabinet next to mine.” Artian pointed at the cabinets behind Sylvester.

“Aight thanks.” Sylvester then nodded.

Sure enough Sylvester’s belongings were in the cabinet, two luggage bags neatly stacked on top of one another with.

On top of it all was the student manual that looked like a rip off of those “X for dummies” books down to the font. The book was rather thick and for now Sylvester really doesn’t have the energy to read all of it.

There were two beds directly opposite of another separated by a generous amount of space and at the far end of the room was a large window, allowing a full view of the night sky.

The one on the left was already occupied by Artian since it had his belongings cluttering it like his smartphone, a shirt lazily thrown on top of it and what seemed to be a sword wrapped in white tattered cloth hanging on the side of the bed.

“A sword huh? Not something I would expect a mage would bring but whatever, there’s probably more to it and I really don’t want to ask at the moment.” Sylvester thought to himself.

“Now where’s my toothbrush, toothpaste, and soap?”

As Sylvester started unpacking, Artian suddenly began to speak again.

“Hey, mind if I ask you something?” He opened up in a serious tone.

“Sure? Go ahead.” Sylvester obliged, noting the sudden seriousness present in his voice.

“I know this sounds strange coming from someone you just met, but my mentor told me, very specifically, that the only one who can answer my question correctly would be my roommate.” Artian elaborated.

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“Okaaaaaay?” Sylvester paused.

“That is oddly specific. Is your Mentor some kind of great prophet or something?” Sylvester replied with a hint of sarcasm.

“You can certainly say he’s uhhh…. Quirky.” Artian sighed with a bit of disapproval and shame.

“Uh okay, so what is your question?” Sylvester quickly steered back on the topic at hand.

Artian took a deep breath and dropped his inquiry.

“Do you believe in destiny?” Artian said with a serious expression followed by a painful moment of silence.

“Come again?” Sylvester was a bit taken aback by the rather basic and cliche question.

“Probably some family related stuff I guess. Ah mage families, you and your stupid traditions.” He thought to himself.

“I mean do you believe that there is a higher purpose, that from the moment you were born you are only supposed to do this and work to the bone to pull it off. To cast aside everything because it is your destiny?” Artian further explained.

“Whoa whoa whoa! This is getting a little too heavy here, why the hell are you asking me?” Sylvester silently complained.

“Damn that mentor of yours, he’s probably just passing the responsibility to me since he also doesn’t know how to answer you! What a fraud!” Sylvester couldn’t help but grimace inwardly, but seeing as how serious Artian was and knowing how awkward it is to suddenly spring his question to a person he just met, Sylvester decided to answer it as honestly as he can.

“Haaah.” Sylvester let out a deep breath. “I don’t think I am the right person to answer that but you what? Since you have the guts to suddenly spring such a heavy handed topic to a total stranger you just met, I’ll humor you.”

And with that Sylvester started talking from the bottom of his heart, a faint memory from his childhood was his point of inspiration.

“No, I don’t. I believe that we are and should be free to walk our own chosen paths.” Sylvester’s thoughts then went to a memory, a talk he had with his father when he was but a small boy admiring the bright night sky.

“If you don’t mind me getting a bit philosophical here, my father once told me that the beauty of life isn’t because of some grand design, its beauty comes from the fact that it is meaningless and pointless.” Sylvester said as he looked up at the night sky now littered with the light of distant faraway worlds mimicking starlight.

“What? Are you gonna say that life is an empty canvas and I am the painter or some other generic motivational crap you can read on the internet?” Artian sarcastically replied.

“No, I’ll use my father’s words. In verbatim too” Sylvester then got up and walked towards the window facing the night sky. Closed his eyes and remembered that quiet night underneath the star filled night sky.

Flashing a cheeky smile he said. “Look up at the stars and find your own constellation.”, deepening his voice to mimic his father’s. Then Sylvester realized that stars aren’t exactly what he should use right now.

“Well technically what we see now aren’t stars but you get my point. Bah what do I know? I’m just an outsider looking in.” Sylvester shrugged.

“Huh, thank you I guess? I think?.” Artian seemed satisfied with the answer and at the same time he looked confused and pondered over it a bit.

“I don’t get it.” he said in a low voice, to which Sylvester only laughed.

“I say that but, didn’t we kind of just follow the great prophetic vision or whatever your mentor said by answering your question and you getting a little more clarity? Didn’t we just follow this destiny?” Sylvester jokingly added.

“Come on man, after that grand little speech you’re just gonna backtrack on your own words?” Artian chuckled.

“Then let’s just say that this one instance in particular doesn’t count.” Sylvester replied while smiling at the little contradictions that happened.

“Alright fine, we both agree that this is a special case.” Artian then fully agreed.

After unpacking all his stuff, Sylvester did his usual routine of brushing his teeth and then washing his face before going to bed. He tried reading through the student’s manual, but after reaching about a third of the book he felt his drowsiness take over him like a blanket softly enveloping him.

His roommate Artian didn’t fare any better and fell asleep almost as soon as he opened the book.

Completely letting go of any resistance Sylvester slipped into a sweet slumber. But then the dark void of his mind twisted and turned, morphing into blurry images that seem unstable. Slowly the once peaceful and dark emptiness turned into a vaguely familiar scenery from a distant memory.

He was now inside a room, no it looked more like a store, an antique store. Dusty trinkets and rusted metallic objects littered the place. The shelves around Sylvester were disorganized and messy, it looked like this store was forgotten by time itself except for a shiny large mirror in front of him.

The mirror looked like it was well maintained and taken care of making it stick out of the rest of the shop as if it was placed there recently.

Beside the mirror was an old crummy table covered by a tablecloth whose colors had long since faded. It looked brittle and frail, as if it would turn to dust once he touched it.

On top of the table was a card facing down. It was a black card peppered by white shiny spots placed randomly, contrasting the utterly dark background resembling the scene of a night sky.