Chapter 155: Alice Dame

The moon was out. Einar phased through the room and went to the top of the roof of the dormitory. He let his gaze travel down the tiled roofs of the city. Not far from the dormitory was the tower bathing under the silver glow of the moonlight. The neighborhood was illuminated by the magic stones they stored inside lamps that emit a yellow.

In the streets were the throngs of people walking around, enjoying the night. Pubs, taverns, brothels, and theaters were around the city. The Tower of Nimrod surrounds the city of Babel, Erech, Akkad, and Calneh. The Academy he was attending is in the city of Babel. It was an academy where the students are trained to be individuals that could survive the harsh world. They are either trained to become well-meaning citizens or adventurers that pursue the life of glory that is waiting for them under the Labyrinth.

Einar was eyeing the streets, staying still while the blackish translucent glow that surrounded him faded. His body would take the form of a ghostly wraith, and letting other people see it is something he rather avoid.

The wind was blowing from the east. Einar continued looking at the view, his hands inside his pockets, and his hair being blown by the gentle wind. Behind him were the hiding moons of the world. The blue pearl, and the golden orb, they named the moons due to their appearance and the way they disappear from sight during the day

Einar raised his brows. He turned his attention to the open field not far from where he standing. It was a clearing where most of the students practiced. At this time there should be no one practicing. But he saw a single woman wearing the uniform of the school. Her white lily hair glowed in accordance with the bright light coming from the moon. She was swinging her worn-out sword and doing footwork practice. She was wounded, her hands were covered in gauzes, and one could see the perspiration coming from her forehead.

Einar was looking at the woman with a blank expression. Behind him was the night sky, he was holding on to his chin while glaring at the woman. The slit of his eyes dilated, and the whites of his eyes turned red.

“She’s practicing well,” he thought. “I guess her strength was never about the talent. No, she has talent but her dedication to her training is quite well.”

Her swing was swift and powerful. The leaves flew vertically and the trees around her shook. Her hair was wet with her own sweat and the way it glistens as she swings her sword around awed Einar.

“I guess I really like hardworking people,” he said inwardly. “Hence the reason why I fell for her so badly in the first place.”

Einar looked up, his right elbow was on his knees, and he was looking at the countless dots that were painted above. It was a calm night, and yet his hearing could not ignore the reckless swings of the woman dutifully doing her best.

“Ah, she’s that girl who was wounded a while ago,” he recalled the crowd before. “So even fighting against the monsters isn’t enough for her. Well, I wonder what she’s trying to reach. Not that it’s my problem.”

Einar stood up straight. He stretched his shoulders, cracked his wrist, fingers, and gathered the translucent skin that slowly turned him into a wraith. He stared at the other side of the roof where the dormitory of the girls was. In a blink of an eye, he was standing on top of the roof tiles. His boots didn’t make any noise, not even a clack of the roof tiles. Einar turned his attention at the woman who was practicing. The veil of shadows slowly took over as he was washed with shadowy smoke that turned the translucent form into that of simply a walking shadow. The woman was swinging her sword, when she turned, looked at the roof where Einar was standing.

She stopped her movement, she held her sword tightly, eyes looking around while her legs ready to take into action. Einar blinked away from the roof tiles and to one of the branches near the forest clearing, timing it alongside the fallen leaves that came from the trees.

“Was it just a rustle?” She asked.

Einar squatted on a tree branch while eyeing the woman. The woman lowered her sword, she sheathed it and placed it on a tree stump. She then took out a string journal and took out a pencil encased with wood. She sat on the tree stump, writing, and right-hand writing lines. Einar couldn’t see well from where he was standing.

Einar was about to take a leap when he saw the woman stand up. She started to the center of the clearing, raised her hands as if glorifying the moon. She bowed her head and suddenly twirled. She rose her arms, and let her body mingle with the silver moonlight.

“The dance of Ninon, the Goddess of the Hearth and Dance,” Einar said inwardly. “Ah, the festival of Ninon is coming soon, she must be dancing along those who would perform the ritual of the hearth.”

“To bring forth peace that is as warm as the hearth, and continue on the dance of life.”

Einar stood silently, his eyes watching the dance of the woman named Alice Dame. She continued her lonely dance, avoiding the leaves as if she was a wind that repelled them. Einar stood listlessly for a second, the light seems to shine on his eyes before it became cloudy, the red tint of his eyes consuming what little light that was left. He took the shape of the wraith, and blink up to the sky where he could not see the dance of Alice Dame. He embraced the light and bathed it in before letting himself fall down from the skies, like a tiny silver light that flashed up on the sky. He went to the direction of the Tower of Nimrod.