"Pfffft." Aira put her hands on her stomach, trying to hold back her laugh. A few drops of dear escaped the corner of her eyes as she rubbed them off and said, "Your face was a sight to behold Ivar! Anyways, I will tell you everything now."
Aira started explaining to Ivar all the techniques She had used on him and instructed him to do so on his face. Ivar quickly picked up all the information and started applying makeup on her face as she instructed.
After about 20 minutes, Ivar finished, and in front of him was Aira!
"Oh wow. I can't believe I did that. You look beautiful." Ivar remarked, genuinely surprised.
"Of course! There are a few mistakes though. See here, that's not how you apply it! You should have…" Aira continued teaching Ivar about the makeup process as time flew by.
Ahem
After what seemed like seconds, a strong cough sounded from the stage. Everyone turned to look at the instructor and only to find out that there was a new beautiful woman standing in front of them! But they wouldn't be fooled this time! This woman was their instructor who tricked them.
"I have judged all of your current abilities. I will come again tomorrow to teach you. Keep the boxes with you. Don't waste too much material in your free time though!" The woman sternly instructed.
"That's it for today's class. Keep waiting here for someone to come and teach you poison class." The woman walked away from there and got out of the hall.
***
Ivar sighed. The last class—Survival Class— had just been completed and all they did was hand them a book and ask them to memorize things. The poison class had them memorize different herbs and poison names and the survival class was in a similar situation.
Ivar did find it boring but it was necessary for his knowledge.
The group of kids walked out of the hall, their surroundings very dim right now! They quickly walked to their respective halls. Their legs were covered with bandages, which they were given with an ointment during the survival class.
The male trainees entered the west hall. A particular friend group was silent today. They had lost a friend to the rats. The recovery of the body was almost impossible too. Who knows what the rats did to his body? They silently sat on a bed, mourning their friend's death.
Ivar on the other hand had already entered the bathing area and started cleaning himself and his injuries.
"Looks like your ability is improving quickly Cohen. Is it considered fast?" Ivar casually remarked.
"How would I know? I don't have anyone to compare to." Cohen seemed to be in a bad mood.
"Anyone to compare to huh…" Ivar paused for a while and asked a question that had been living on his mind for a long time, "That being said, How rare are people like you? Have you met any of them?"
"No. Haven't met any of them. I don't even know how rare we are. Probably quite rare though, considering you haven't seen them too."
"Yeah…" Ivar's thoughts went back to the messenger of his village. Was that guy an ability user?
Ivar didn't want to keep questioning because the guy seemed to be in a bad mood probably because of the observation training. Someone righteous like Cohen would of course be sad at seeing meaningless deaths around him, especially when Cohen couldn't protect them.
Both of them arrived in the main hall where their beds and dried meat were. Ivar looked at the dried meat and slipped it in his robes. He wanted to train alone, outside.
Ivar looked at the dimly lit stone-paved main ground. He didn't want to train there in case someone was watching. He looked towards the east in the absolutely dark night sky. He knew the observation training would come to use, as much as brutal it was.
Ivar walked to behind the western hall and saw a clear grass patch and unsheathed his swords and got in a stanched.
"Haaaah!... Haaaah!" With each breath, he swung his sword down, with determination and discipline.
He practiced various basic slashes his father and other hunters had taught him. They didn't need any fancy sword arts to fight the animals and Ivar didn't know any.
With his every swing, he felt his vital energy slightly vibrating and trying to move somewhere. Seeing that, he continued but even after training for more than an hour, the vital energy didn't move.
Ivar was confused. Was it going to take a lot of training for something to happen? What was going to happen once it actually moved to where it wanted to? He tried moving it himself but it didn't give any result. So at last, he ignored it and slumped on the ground.
Sweat was dripping from his forehead as it entered his eyes, making him quickly blink them to clean the sweat off. He rubbed his eyes and tried to clean them off but it worsened because of the sweat on his hands. Seeing his situation, he gave up and instead endured the pain—now looking at the almost absolutely empty western sky.
The key word was almost. The night sky of Primis had no light source as good as the sun. Nothing to call the jewels of the night sky, nothing twinking. Expect one thing.
It stared at Primis.
Every day, every night, from the west, It stared. Ivar looked back at it.
The only really really dim source of light the night of Primis had.
The eye of the west.
As if plucked directly from the socket, the sclera couldn't be seen, but the same couldn't be said for the almost lifelike dark iris. The dark iris could be faintly distinguished from the night sky because of the light coming from its pupil.
The white light, dimmer than the lamps, faintly gave a metallic illumination to the still lifelike iris, all that from just a small dot of white in the pupil.
The only reason Ivar could see behind the western hall was because of the light of lamps escaping the main grounds. The light of the pupil, as people called it, was so dim that shadows wouldn't appear at its "illumination". It was basically an absolute darkness, but it helped the trained eyes.