Chereads / A World Unwritten / Chapter 111 - Chores

Chapter 111 - Chores

The library always has a peculiar scent to it - a mixture of old parchment, wood, and mustiness that clung to every corner. The huge shelves, lined with ancient and modern books alike, this place is always a sight to behold. I don't know why, I don't remember adding it but it changes every now and then. However today, I'm not here to appreciate the beauty of the library; I'm on a mission.

Lysandra, with her sudden insatiable desire to stay locked up in her room, needs some study material. She has somehow become engrossed with those crystal-projected movies, and I regret introducing her to them. Tsk, I should just break all those damn movie crystals.

I turn the corner to head towards the library's main desk when I catch sight of Flora and Kaida. They look drained and tired, completely opposite from their usual vibrant selves. Flora has her head flat on the table, her vibrant hair contrasting against the wooden surface, while Kaida is propping up her head with a hand, her expression somber.

Seeing them like that immediately makes me want to turn around, but the route to the exit is past their table. Dammit, no avoiding them now.

As I walk by, trying to appear nonchalant, their eyes catch mine. I let out a resigned sigh, stopping beside their table. "What's gotten into you? You're usually so energetic," I remark, addressing Flora.

She lifts her head just slightly, a forlorn expression marring her features. "Uuuuugggghhh," she groans. "Just who are we supposed to choose? Who did you choose, V?"

I frown trying to decipher her words. Before I can ask, Kaida clarifies, her voice equally drained, "You know. Which professor did you choose?"

Ah, they still haven't chosen their professor huh? Well, I guess it's understandable, given that the choice they make will determine how much they learn and grow. I completely forgot that Mason convinced Flora to learn under Professor Ayla, but since he doesn't exist, I guess I got to do it.

I rub my chin thoughtfully, "Why don't you choose Professor Ayla, Flora?"

Her eyes widen in shock, "Eeeehhh!? Professor Ayla? But isn't she always busy? And you know, she is scary."

Busy? That woman? All she ever thinks about is where to find the next bottle of alcohol and how to laze around. "Trust me," I say with a knowing grin, "She is more than willing to teach you. In fact, I chose her myself. I think it's your best choice given that both of you have similar affinities"

I sigh. Honestly, there really is no better choice for Flora. Their magical affinities align so well, it's almost poetic. But Kaida? She's a conundrum. The uniqueness of her affinity makes it difficult to find a compatible instructor. It was a detail I added since she is not supposed to grow much at this point in the story.

"Hmmm, I didn't think anyone had the balls to request Professor Ayla for personal classes," Kaida remarks with a raised eyebrow, an attempt at light humor, I assume.

It's not like I'm taking her classes to begin with. I plan to use that time to amp up my own training. I pause, taking a deep breath, "Trust me, Flora, you won't regret it. And as for you, Kaida... I've heard you have potential in summoning magic. However, I don't think there's anyone equipped to guide you with your specific affinity."

Kaida groans in frustration, "I know, I know. Tsk, are you saying I don't have any options? Are you telling me to give up?"

"For your affinity, yes," I admit, sighing again. Why does everything have to be so complicated? I hate myself for making this story so damn annoying. "Why don't you consider learning Magic Arts with Professor Thaddeus?"

Both of their eyes widen, darting to meet mine as though I've lost my mind. I can't blame them; it does sound absurd.

Kaida's voice rises in disbelief, "W-what the hell are you thinking? His classes are so rigorous that only the seniors are permitted to enroll! And you want me to approach him!?"

I raise my hands in a placating gesture. "Tsk, calm down, Kaida. No one's forcing you. You won't be attending his regular class sessions. This is for personal training – there's no grading system. It's just a suggestion, don't read too much into it."

Flora, despite her earlier exhaustion, seems to have livened up from our exchange. She watches us with wide eyes, clearly trying to make sense of the whirlwind conversation.

Without waiting for further reactions, I rise from my seat. "Take your time to decide," I add, addressing them both. I need to head to the training grounds, Isadora is waiting for me.

The training gym echoes with the distant clinks of metal and the rhythmic sound of footsteps. Under the high ceiling, I stand opposite Isadora, wooden swords in our hands. The very fact that I'm facing off against her sends a thrill down my spine.

I scratch my neck nervously. "I'm grateful that you're willing to be my sparring partner, but please, go easy on me?" I half plead, half joke, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

She responds with a simple "mm-hmm" and a nod, her face as expressionless as ever. I can't read into her motives at all. Did she take pity on me after seeing that stupid p-prank Biana played on me? Or does she think she owes me for all those times I fed her? Whatever the reason, I won't look a gift horse in the mouth. I finally get to learn from someone who is, without a doubt, a pro.

I grip my sword tighter, the weight reassuring in my hands. Isadora may not use aura, but her skill with the blade is nothing short of monstrous. I cannot afford even a moment's lapse in concentration. Gritting my teeth, I lunge forward, my sword swinging powerfully towards her.

With a swift and effortless movement, Isadora, using only one hand, parries my blow. The sharp "thwack" of our wooden swords meeting resonates through the gym. She retaliates with a swift slash, pushing me backward, tsk, our difference in skill is too large, there's no way I'll be able to scratch her unless I use my toys.

Not to be deterred, I attack again. This time, feigning a strike to the left before swiftly changing direction to the right at the very last moment. But she's unyielding, blocking my attack effortlessly with a single hand and nudging me slightly off-balance.

Using this momentary advantage, Isadora closes the distance between us. Before I can even react, she thrusts the pommel of her sword into my stomach. I cough and stagger back from the impact, the pain shooting through me. Desperate to land a blow, I slash towards her. Given our proximity, I believe I have a shot.

But she's always one step ahead. With a calm and practiced movement, she blocks my strike and, with a single, swift motion, sends my sword flying out of my grasp.

The sound of wooden blades clashing fills the air again, each echo like a cruel reminder of my inferiority. Over and over I thrust, swing, parry, dodge, only to have my attempts thwarted at every turn. I grip my sword tighter, my knuckles going white. But again, Isadora sweeps it from my grasp, sending it skittering across the floor.

"Dammit! Why?! Why are you so...so damn untouchable?" I pant, feeling the heat rising in my face. Not out of anger, but sheer determination. With swift movements, I reclaim my weapon and get back into position.

Each time I lunge, I'm hopeful. Each time she blocks, my hope takes a hit. Her defense seems impenetrable. I push, and she yields; I pull, and she advances. It's like fighting a wave; it simply flows around you.

"Fuck!" I shout, launching another barrage of strikes, sweat streaming down my forehead. "I'll hit you! I'll hit you at least once!"

But, each swing meets the same fate as before. Deflected, parried, blocked. Until, on my fifteenth, or was it twentieth – I lost count – attempt, she snaps my wooden blade in half with an effortless twist of her wrist.

"Tsk," I mutter under my breath, the remnants of the broken weapon falling to the ground. "Were you just... toying with me this whole time?"

She doesn't answer, simply tilting her head to one side in that nonchalant way of hers.

"Goddamit... Thank you," I groan, catching my breath. this was certainly a good exercise, but I hope I can get a hit next time. "What is it? Am I gripping the sword wrong? Am I still too weak? Or are you just built different? Tsk, it's probably all those reasons."

Isadora continues her practice, striking the dummy with precision. It seems I won't be getting any answers today. But oh, I have a trick up my sleeve, a special card that will always get her attention.

Dipping my hand into my bag, I retrieve two round, hairy, and brown balls. The moment she catches sight of them, her motions cease instantly. Yes! It's my trump card against the undefeated Isadora.

Sitting down and placing one coconut beside me, I start working on the other, preparing it for drinking. Without a word, Isadora strolls over and claims her seat next to me. No acknowledgment, no thank you, just an expectant look. The kind of look a cat gives you when it knows you're about to feed it. Control yourself Kael! You can't pet her.

Grinning, I hand her the prepared coconut, our earlier sparring session temporarily forgotten. "You're a damn monster you know. How the hell can you keep a straight face after giving me a beating?"

Isadora takes a sip, the bliss evident in her eyes. She looks at me for a split second, a hint of amusement evident in her gaze, then she focuses back on the coconut.

"Well, at least I made you break a sweat," I laugh, referring to her light workout against the dummy, though we both know I failed in our actual duel. "Maybe next time, I'll get a point in."

Taking a sip from my coconut, I barely register Nyssa's entrance into the gym until she's right in my line of sight. The entrance isn't that far away, after all. I squint a bit. What the hell is she doing here?

"Hey, Nyssa," I start, trying to sound casual. "How are you?"

Her mouth twitches just a bit, almost too fast for me to catch, but I do. She stammers, "Hey V. umm, this is..." Her fingers tremble, and my brows furrow. Why is she acting so... twitchy? Is she controlling her urge to kill? Or are the effects of that beast deepening?

I roll my eyes, diverting her attention from whatever weird trance she's in. "I'm sure you know her already. She's Isadora," I introduce, even though everyone in the academy probably knows who Isadora is.

Before I can get a proper look at Nyssa's reaction to my introduction, I'm distracted by Isadora's audacity. The cheek! She's drinking my coconut! "Dammit, Isadora! That's mine!" I yell, but she just pulls it further away, pretending not to hear me. Is she pretending to be deaf now? Seriously, she acts so differently around food.

Nyssa's mouth twitches again, and she seems more flustered than ever. "S-she's eating your food?" she asks, eyes darting between Isadora and me. The way she's glaring at Isadora makes me think she might just throw a death spell at her. That'd be something to see.

I wave my hand dismissively. "Isadora has a way of... appropriating things," I mutter. She's like a cat that thinks everything is hers. Seriously though, I don't think I've ever seen Isadora not get something she wants.

The next moment, Nyssa clears her throat, and I can't help but think how she looks like a cat that's just been caught knocking over a vase. "Umm, I offered to help check the conditions in the nearby classes," she says.

Mhmm. Sounds suspicious, but sure, Nyssa. Whatever you say. Are you scouting for potential people to convert into that shitty cult?

She then tilts her head and asks, "H-hey V, would you like to come to church with me? Right now we really need some volunteers, we could really use some help."

I nearly choke on my coconut water. What?! Why would she ask that? Why would I go with her? Fuck! Don't tell me she's trying to convert me!? This is both good and bad I could try pretending... No way, I wouldn't be able to do that around her. She'll find out in an instant.

My eyes dart between Nyssa and my stolen coconut, a wild thought passing through my mind. "I'm sorry but I'm not religious," Why is she after me though? I don't think I qualify in their eyes.

Nyssa just blinks, seeming a little taken aback. And then her gaze flits to Isadora, who's still happily drinking my coconut. Her face contorts weirdly.

Why is she looking at Isadora like she wants to bury her in a hole? Is this some coconut jealousy thing? This is getting weird, man.

Feeling the need to distract her again, I prod, "Are you okay? You don't seem well."

Nyssa hesitates, then coughs. "Oh, I just... haven't gotten any sleep lately," she states, not meeting my eyes.