New Year arrived. The season of holidays, gifts, and that very "family" trip. I had to work as the intercity express once again.

  POP.

  I was at the gates of the Academy. Erol and Yara were already waiting there, beaming with such happy smiles that I felt a little uneasy from this surplus of positivity.

  — Why so joyful? — I asked, brushing off my jacket. — Did the cafeteria start handing out double portions?

  — We're just happy to see our parents, Greg! — they blurted out in chorus.

  POP.

  And we were already home.

  The moment we crossed the threshold, organized chaos began. Aya and Alastor—two fearsome demons, mind you—dropped everything and rushed to hug the kids. Interrogations, excitement, inspections...

  We sat down at the table. Everything was wonderful. And this "wonderful," judging by the figures in Alastor's ledger, cost a fortune for just one semester. The children gushed about their studies with renewed vigor: about how the Academy tried to digest them with its moving floors, about the mirror traps, and how the map helped them out. If not for that piece of paper, they'd probably still be looking for the way to the library.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Then they enthusiastically described the races they had met. It turns out elves aren't such bores, and demonoids have a great sense of humor as long as you don't step on their tails.

  When the feast ended, I crawled to my room, dreaming only of my pillow. But the peace didn't last long. The door swung open, and the "students" tumbled into the room.

  — Zen! Zen! We heard rumors about you at the Academy!

  — Oh yeah? — I lazily cracked one eye open. — What kind of rumors? Another prophecy about the end of the world?

  — No! They say you were a real legend there! People still whisper about you in the corridors.

  — Well, it happens, — I said.

  And then, for some reason, the dam broke and I got philosophical. My mood sharply shifted from lazy to bleak.

  — Listen here, runts. When you grow up, become smarter, wiser, and calmer... Your own real lives will begin. And then you will realize one simple thing: you won't even remember me.

  The children froze.

  — I am merely a supporting character in your story, — I continued, looking out the window at the falling snow. — I am a shadow that accidentally walked by. A flash at the beginning of your journey. Nothing more.

  — What kind of nonsense are you spouting, Zenhald? — Yara frowned, stepping closer. — What is this all about?

  — Oh, nothing. Just thinking out loud. The brain generates strange things sometimes.

  Erol's gaze fell on the table, where the disassembled musket lay.

  — Ooooh! Zenhald, what is that thing?!

  The moment evaporated instantly.

  — This is a musket, — I perked up, seeing their stunned faces. — We shot it a couple of times in the woods. It makes a hell of a bang. Want to take a look?

  The children forgot all about my speeches regarding "supporting characters" and immediately crowded around the table, examining the piece of iron.

  — That's it, — I yawned, pulling the blanket over myself. — The tour is over. Everyone go to sleep. Tomorrow we'll teach you how not to blow your own ears off with this technology.