I turned the key in the lock, the faint click echoing in the quiet hallway. Stepping inside, I took a slow look around.
…Huh.
The room was more simple than I had anticipated.
A small bedroom to the side, a main room that doubled as both a living space and a kitchen, and a tiny bathroom tucked away in the corner. The design was practical, minimalistic—almost as if whoever lived here didn't care for extravagance.
Maybe my past self was just a simple man.
There were no decorations, no unnecessary objects, no personal touches. The only thing filling the room was the obvious scent of paper and ink.
My eyes drifted to the wardrobe, and upon opening it, I was met with the same simplicity.
Three sets of the Academy uniform (including the one I was currently wearing). Two sets of home clothes—plain, unassuming, nothing eye-catching. One set of simple outerwear and a coat that looked sturdy but not particularly expensive.
...No personal clothing, no accessories—nothing to hint at my past self's personality.
Was I a commoner?
The obvious thought lingered in my mind as I walked toward the desk and shelf, the only places in the room that seemed to contain anything of note.
Books.
Notebooks.
Lots of them.
All neatly stacked, all well-used. They were all academic materials.
I pulled one out, flipping through the pages. Detailed notes, well-organized, filled with diagrams and formulas. It wasn't something a slacker would write. Guess I was the studious type then.
Should I check it out?
Hmm....
I tried reading a few sentences, hoping to trigger some memory, some sense of familiarity—but nothing clicked.
My mind remained blank.
"Sigh..."
I put the book back. No use dwelling on it now.
Deciding to tidy up the desk, I started stacking the books properly—until something caught my eye.
An envelope.
It had been tucked beneath a pile of books, hidden away as if forgotten.
I hesitated for a moment before pulling it out and carefully opening it.
Inside was a letter—and as my eyes scanned the words, I finally learned something about my past.
━━━◇◆◇━━━
[Grand Arcanum Academy]
—Acceptance Letter—
To the esteemed Amaniel von Luthaire,
We are pleased to inform you that you have successfully passed the transfer examination with excellent results.
As such, you have been awarded a scholarship to study at Grand Arcanum Academy . However, in order to maintain this scholarship, you must continue to uphold high academic performance and demonstrate outstanding results.
We wish you success in your studies and a bright future ahead.
Signed,
Grand Arcanum Academy Administration
━━━◇◆◇━━━
I read the letter again, slower this time.
So.
I passed a transfer exam with pretty good results.
I had a scholarship—but it wasn't permanent. If I didn't keep my grades up, I could lose it.
And most importantly—
Amaniel von Luthaire.
That was my name. Full name.
I stared at the neatly written letters, tracing over them with my eyes.
Amaniel von Luthaire.
Strangely, it felt... distant.
As if it belonged to someone else.
But I am sure it was mine.
"..."
I closed the envelope, placing it back on the desk.
Well.
At least I knew one thing now.
I wasn't some noble's pampered heir. I had worked my way into this academy, earning my place through merit and hard work.
For some reason, that fact alone gave me a strange sense of relief.
With that thought, I went back to organizing the room.
And for the first time since 'waking up', I felt like I had taken a small step forward.
....
...
Weird...
Why do I feel like something is wrong...
....
Wait!
I... I passed with good results... and received a scholarship... right?
Shoot!
I'm done for!
Panic crept up my spine.
I repeated them again, to point them out.
- I passed the transfer exam with good results.
- I had a scholarship, but it wasn't permanent.
- I had to maintain my grades to keep it.
…But the problem is - I don't remember anything.
I stared at the acceptance letter, a hollow feeling settling in my chest.
I am supposed to be a top student. A scholar. Someone who had earned their place here through intelligence and effort.
Yet, I can't even recall basic knowledge.
I don't know a damn thing!
The weight of realization hit me like a brick wall. If I didn't regain my memories soon, then—
No.
Even if I couldn't remember, there had to be another way.
I glanced back at the books and notes stacked neatly on the desk and shelf. They were filled with knowledge, knowledge that I must have written down at some point.
If my mind couldn't remember, then maybe my past self had left clues in these pages.
Without wasting another second, I grabbed a notebook and flipped through the contents again—this time with purpose of learning something.
Pages upon pages of weird symbols, mathematical equations, theories on energy flow, and strange circles.
But no matter how hard I tried, nothing clicked. Literally. It was as if I was looking at a stranger's notes. No, it was as if I was looking at a scientist's research notes while being a complete noob idiot.
"…This is bad."
I swallowed hard, gripping the notebook tighter.
If I couldn't understand my own notes, then how was I supposed to keep up in classes?
What if there was an exam soon? What if someone asked me a question? What if my scholarship got revoked before I even figured out who I was?
I would certainly be expelled!
All the hard work and hardships my past self endured would be for nothing.
"Damn it…"
I shut the notebook with a quiet thud, running a hand through my hair.
I needed a plan.
Step one: Find out how much time I had before the next test.
Step two: Figure out which subjects I needed to focus on.
Step three: Cram like my life depended on it.
Because right now, it did.
No matter how nonsensial it sounded.
I feel weird and afraid at the thought of expulsion.
Urgh...
....
"...Hum...."
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to calm down. Panicking wouldn't solve anything.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was getting late.
Maybe I should try sleeping on it. Maybe tomorrow, things would make more sense. Maybe my memories would come back on their own.
…Or maybe I was just being hopeful.
Still, there was no point in stressing myself to death before I even had a chance to fix this.
I got up and made my way toward the bedroom. The mattress was firm but comfortable, and as soon as I lay down, exhaustion hit me all at once.
As I stared up at the ceiling, my mind drifted back to the name written in the acceptance letter.
Amaniel von Luthaire.
A name that felt both familiar and foreign at the same time.
Who was I, really?
And why did I feel like nothing was as it seems?
....
...
No matter, I'm not gonna give up that easily.