6 Chapter 6

'Did you remember to check if they had toilet paper?' Ophi reminded, causing me to groan and roll over to my side.

'If there is a lack of toilet paper, I'll just wave my hand and all the shit will go away.' To think my powers would stoop to the point where it would be removing shit.

'Hmph. About the brat...you don't intend to guide him as an esper? You hardly know about the laws of this world much less his mental health.' Ophi mentioned, particularly about my lackluster diagnosis of his PTSD despite not having the credentials of a psychologist.

'Magic and psionic don't seem to differ as much, as long as the correct results are displayed. I've read enough stories ranging from high fantasy to self-insert fan-fiction to understand the simplistic application of mana and its nonsense.' I telepathically answered, yet managed to mumble something indiscernible from my mouth. It wasn't as if I cared or was in any way fascinated with magic. Power is power.

Ophi curled closer until his cool scales rested against my back. 'Why bother again in offering help to him?'

There was no specific answer for the question and I wonder to myself as well. Was it sympathy, pity, or something else? Just the thought of sympathizing lingered uncomfortably and a flick of annoyance to spread in my guts.

'Other than increasing the probability rate for his un-summoning of me; stop asking me stupid questions that you already know the answer to.' I disregarded any other sentiments and drew my sights out into the open window, revealing a pleasant view of the unpolluted sky. It was probably the only semblance of awe that is rarely seen back on Earth in the midst of the dense city lights.

The next day, I had a surprisingly revelation that the school had the day off. The brat once again appeared in front of my temporary dorm room, offering to give me a tour around the campus with me halfway applying the last remaining makeup.

"Before that, is there a place where I can get breakfast?"

He showed me a troubled look, "Breakfast past already..." he defeatedly explained causing my eyes to narrow a bit. "B-but lunch will be in an hour!" He scrambled to answer.

I decided to shrug it off and instead munch on a piece of luxury chocolate meant for an offering to a deceased enemy. Despite being at fault for waking near noon, my pride prevented me to acknowledge it as I silently observe him guiding out the dormitories. Sure enough, he acted as nothing transpired last night, which may have been for the better or worse.

Contrary to my expectations, the academy was exceptionally huge less gothic Hogwarts looking and more lavishly endowed with white marble pillars supporting the endless halls with Romanesque themed ceilings. Large acre wide greenery surrounded the school and dotted in expertly in some areas, as we made a sharp turn away from one of the various courtyards.

"How much do you think that gold encrusted torch is worth?" I asked motioning towards the jeweled inlaid torch against the wall with its nice golden luster. My mouth drooled at such sight while making a mental checklist to bring back some souvenirs.

"About 2,000 gold coins?" the brat half guessed.

Converting it to Euros was a bit difficult, but it didn't matter as long as the jewels and gold were genuine. If I were to guess the appropriate worth, five handbags and a second ticket to Yucatan seem sufficient.

"Where are we going? And why do I not see any students around?" I asked scanning the towering building which seemed to be the main library of the academy.

"Most students use the days off to visit home while I need to teach you how to write. We can use the academy's library since its open all year round," he explained, dodging a flying textbook that rivaled an average law student's textbook before it joined back to its flock and towards its next migration.

We took a seat to the most secluded area in the library, despite the library being barren but I brushed it aside as a loner's habit.

"I'm curious about your kind. You mentioned something about yi-spher?" He began to probe and throw nonsensical questions as we seated ourselves comfortably.

"Espers," I corrected and grimaced when he took out a stack of coarse aged paper that yellowed near the edges along with his sloppy ink-set. He pushed the paper to me and rushed to find a book that I could use to guide myself for the upcoming torture that would transpire for the next year or two.

I looked at the piece of paper and wondered when was the last time I took a pen and wrote like I was in the prison called school. It didn't help that school starts after the day off is over, and a 24-year old would be situated in a classroom full of angsty hormonal driven teenage chimpanzees.