Huh. That was an interesting dream. I was a student in a magic school, slowly discovering its dark secrets. I was up on the third floor where I shouldn’t have been, and woke up the long-preserved young man who’d founded the school. He wanted me to take him to the headmaster’s office to confront him about what the school had turned into: a place that brainwashed young magicians to be weapons for the State, rather than training them to their full potential.
Then there was some kind of narrative discontinuity and I was trying to acquire the names of the technicians who worked there. Everyone, teachers and students alike, just referred to them by their position. All I had to write on was a book with things already written in it, so my notes kept vanishing into the text. Eventually I turned to a page with the cast list on it, and was like “oho! I’ll just use the playbill to get the right spellings for everyone’s names!”.
It was about then that I woke up, thanks to my calendar alarm going off to remind me to exercise.