Final Practice

Alice knocked thrice on the door of the private study - two short, one long. They were hesitant sounds; it was almost the dead of night. The other women in the Seminary might have found such a disturbance uncouth, lacking in the refinement and grace a lady should have, but while others would call it rude, she would call her dalliances ‘taking the initiative’ that a true scholar should.

Of course, she only intended for one person to hear her disturbances. There was only one woman that Alice would visit so late, to the extent that she would sneak out of the dormitory past curfew.

“You may enter.”

Alice opened the door to the private study, staring at the unwavering expression of the Leading Apprentice Scholar who sat at her desk, reading a book. She just couldn’t understand how that woman, still a student, yet so strangled by expectation could remain so composed at all times.

As Alice leaned on the door frame, she looked at her Instructor, marveling at the contour of her jaw, her soft pale skin... the way that her bronze hair fell against her face... she was all too captivating, and she was only a woman that chose to exist.

Candlelight poured out of the doorway into the hall, setting the block-printed wallpaper ablaze with dancing orange rays.

Alice killed her heart's hangups as she cleared her throat. "Instructor Astalette, we should practice."

The woman remained focused on the bound-parchment book in front of her. "Young Miss Winter, the practical exams are already over. Don't you think you should focus on your studies now? Linguistics, Classical Theology, Mathematics, Astronomy, Geography, History, Ethics-- these things are just as important as learning to wield a blade. A Paladin should be well-learned. Do you think you will remain in Sechille forever?"

Her words were calm and slightly hollow, devoid of any hints that she had humanity churning in her heart, like a doll.

"I know that much, but I wanted to clear my head. I was hoping you could help..."

The doll-like woman looked over towards Alice after hearing this, brushing a copper lock of hair out of her face. When she saw how Alice was dressed, not in her novitiate attire, but in a button-up white shirt and a layered skirt that fell to her ankles, a humoured smile curled up her lips.

“Do you expect to fight wearing that? You should return to your room and change into proper attire.”

Deep inside her chest, Alice felt a warm ache. She couldn’t stop her heart from beating fast. The image of that rare smile became burned into the front of her mind, clearer than any portrait of the Meisters hanging in the hall.

“And that doesn’t mean your scholar’s garb. Just because it restricts movement does not make it more of a challenge during training… the real challenge is trying not to ruin your clothes before your morning classes… are you listening, young Miss?”

“Ah- sorry?” Alice was snapped out of her reverie.

“Go get dressed and meet me out in the courtyard.” Before long, her Instructor’s calm, composed demeanor had returned.

“Very well, Instructor Astalette.” Alice bowed her head slightly, reaching for the brass doorknob and pulling the door closed behind her.

As soon as the sun had set fully, Alice snuck out of the women's dormitory, making her way down a flight of mahogany carpeted stairs, moonlight gleaming through the iron-framed windows guiding her way.

It was around ten in the afternoon that the guards would come around and extinguish each lamplight in the west wing of the Seminary of Silver, where the women’s dormitory remained. It was an irony that Paladins in training needed to be guarded, but it was only a formality. The truth behind their presence was to tacitly remind the scholars that there was a curfew in place.

Of course, there were many ways around this curfew. As a page studying under the Leading Apprentice Scholar, even if Alice were caught by one of the guards as she made her way through the darkened halls, as long as she spoke her purpose and the name of her Instructor, it was certain she wouldn’t be reprimanded.

The name ‘Astalette’ carried immense weight in the Seminary in Sechille.

But she had grown too used to sneaking around the Seminary’s curfew, and so she was not caught by the guards.

Soon, she came to the courtyard outside of the women’s dormitory, an expanse of well-groomed grass bordering large and intricate fountains. Marbled-stone paths connected to the men’s dormitory stretched into the distance, Instructor Astalette standing to the side, a calm expression on her face.

Her Instructor wore a pair of white gloves with sapphire-blue insignias plastered on the sides, hovering over the pommel of a silver longsword she had driven into the earth.

“Real swords?”

“In a few days, I’ll be gone, young Miss. Wouldn’t you like, just once, to fight me without being inhibited by safety measures?”

“You always talk about safety being key… what changed?”

“Consider it a reward.”

“Do I deserve a reward?”

“Yes, certainly. You’ve been a wonderful page.”

Alice felt her face grow warm. It wasn’t often that her Instructor voiced her compliments, only when she felt it truly necessary. It was always implied that she was proud of Alice’s efforts.

If ever they were allowed out of the Seminary into Sechille, the bakery on Heller’s Street was their first visit. It was always Instructor Astalette’s treat. This was most certainly a reward.

Alice reached behind her, unsheathing her own sword. If this was her Instructor’s kindness, then she most certainly would accept it.

After all, this was her last opportunity to do so.

“Begin.”

Alice lurched forward, thrusting her blade towards Instructor Astalette’s head. She deftly avoiding the point of Alice’s blade by tilting her neck, raising her own sword to draw the sharp edge away from her throat.

At the same time, her Instructor took a step forward, leaning in to face Alice.

“Keep your form solid. Be unmovable.”

Alice’s expression twisted in a humoured fashion. “Aren’t I supposed to be fluid in my movements?”

“Fluid in your movements, solid in your stance.”

Her Instructor raised her free hand, swinging it towards Alice. It caught her in the side of her face, causing her to recoil. Instructor Astalette then parried Alice’s blade away, freeing her own sword in order to thrust it towards Alice’s chest.

Alice recovered from the blow just in time to catch her Instructor’s blade with her hand, the sharp edge slicing into her palm. In this, she remained unmovable.

“When you leave, who will I study under?” She asked her Instructor through gritted teeth.

“If you’re diligent in your studies, Meister Sif may see fit to make you a Leading Apprentice Scholar. By the beginning of your fourth year, you might be able to take on a page too.”

Her Instructor replied succinctly, perfectly, no wasted breath in her tone. She was sensible, but also concise. She was strong and willful, but also gentle and ladylike, and gave off the sense that she felt no emotion, but showed it often in her actions and rarely in her expressions. These were all the things that made her an Astalette.

“Become an Instructor? Don’t I need to excel in my studies for that to be the case? How can I place in the top ten scores if I’m only in fifty-seventh place? This is too big an obstacle to overcome with just effort…” Alice dodged to the side, striking her Instructor’s blade away with her own, distancing herself from the calm woman.

“You were ranked three-hundredth when you arrived, Young Miss. Your increase in ranking wasn’t based on an increase in natural intelligence. It was your own effort that brought you to this point. You can still climb further. I don’t think it’s a dream, more an inevitability that you reach the top ten.”

“You knew about that?” This revelation flustered her.

“Shouldn’t I become aware of all my peers? This much shouldn’t be a surprise, Young Miss. I’ve known about you from the moment you stepped foot into this place, and before that, Sechille’s Orphanage.”

“Eh? How did you get information from the Orphanage?”

“I grew up there.”

“I thought your mother…?” Alice’s line of questioning trailed off, unable to parse such information. The Astalette family had become prominent in their line of work because of her Instructor’s mother. This much was known about her, it was natural that she had become the Leading Apprentice Scholar because of her lineage.

It had been assumed that the famous mother of her Instructor had been active in her duties as a Paladin, but now that she had revealed that she too had grown up in the orphanage, could this really have not been the case?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Her instructor titled her head slightly, eyes glimmering with worry.

“No, no. It’s quite alright.” She acted dismissive from the jump. While Alice had been quite flustered by her Instructor’s revelation that she had known about her existence before Alice had known of her, she was more worried that she may have brought up bad memories by mentioning her mother. If it was true, despite all assumptions that her Instructor’s mother had died, then would it shake the doll-faced scholar?

She quickly changed the manner of conversation, hoping to save her Instructor’s feelings. “Where will you go after you graduate? Will you join the Paladin’s Templar? Or will you study further under a reputable master?”

The woman’s eyebrow twitched, betraying her calm demeanor.

Instructor Astalette raised her blade, dashing forward. The wind curled around her, a ferocious torrent upending the calm weather and causing it to rage. Alice was barely able to react in time, raising her own blade to parry the attack. Sparks flew through the air, alighting the darkness in a bright flurry of blue and red wisps.

The Leading Apprentice Scholar’s sapphire-blue gaze remained sharp, following through with her attack. Despite her blade being interlocked with Alice’s, this didn’t fully prevent her from making further aggressions. She pivoted her foot, spinning around the side of Alice while releasing her grip on her own blade.

She wrapped her arm around Alice’s throat, appearing behind her, and kicked at Alice’s heel, causing her to lose her balance and topple to the ground.

Alice felt her vision blur as she lost the ability to draw in breaths, being slowly strangled from the woman lying underneath her. She raised her blade weakly, stabbing at the ground beside her neck. This inevitably missed, and so she stabbed at the other side of herself. This too, failed.

Her vision continued to darken from the corners, growing fuzzy and her body feeling weak. Finally, she steeled her will and stabbed down at herself, intending to pierce her Instructor in the process.

Strands of liquid silver shot forth from underneath Instructor Astalette’s sleeve, creating an impermeable sheet of silver where the blade sought to make contact with Alice’s chest, shielding her from harming herself.

“Too brazen.” Instructor Astalette spoke calmly, slowing releasing the strength of her grip on Alice’s neck, causing her to sputter and gasp for breath. “If you were only facing one enemy, self-sacrifice might be a good outcome. But Horror rarely appears alone. What if you were defending a helpless target, like a governmental official, or a small town? How would killing yourself help that situation?”

Alice rolled to the side, dropping her blade as she heaved. Between her gasps, she was able to formulate a response. “Then- what- should I- have done?”

Her Instructor remained lying in the grass, staring up at the glimmering night sky as she replied. “I’m not sure.”

This was the true nature of a Paladin- violence. Even a practice match became equivalent to a fight to the death in their mind. Of course, they would always try to stop short, but in the midst of a fight, these lines could be blurred far too easily, and injuries became common.

“Using Siltte- isn’t that a dirty maneuver for practice?” Alice, having recovered herself, turned her head toward her Instructor. She referred to the silver liquid that had blocked her last strike. This was the lifeblood of the tree that all Paladins sought to protect, their greatest weapon.

“Do you think Horror will act with honour during a battle? In your fourth year, Meister Coreas will bring you to Hel, and you will be forced to survive its maze as part of a practical examination. This will be your first experience against those monsters…” As she spoke, the Instructor raised her hand weakly towards the stars.

“Are they that terrifying?”

“There are certainly scarier things… but yes, Horror is as it is named… horrifying. These beasts are made of Siltte that has been stolen and corrupted, and so they can take any shape they choose… I’ve seen Horror take the shape of massive spiders, dragons, and even people. There is no limit to what extent they will go to in order to terrify and kill you. That is why you have to be prepared for all inevitabilities.”

As Alice pondered her Instructor’s words, a voice called out from the darkness surrounding the courtyard.

“What are you doing out this late, Liel?” A voice called out from the shadows in the courtyard.

Alice glanced to the side at the same time as her Instructor, barely making out the visage of another tall woman, a shorter man trailing behind her.

“We’ll be gone soon, Ms. Sinclair. Shouldn’t we spend as much time as we can with our pages?” Her Instructor, Liel, replied concisely, her gaze narrowing as she laid back on her folded arms. She clearly had a dislike for the woman that had just made an appearance, closing her eyes in an attempt to ignore her.

“Oh, I’ve certainly been spending a lot of time with him…” Instructor Sinclair’s words were laced with sultry undertones, implying something demeaning of them both. Of course, such a thing wasn’t viewed in a negative light. Shouldn’t men and women giving their lives for the sake of others enjoy themselves a bit? This was a common occurrence between Instructors and their Pages.

Liel stood up from where she had been resting in the grass, grabbing her sword and sheathing it. She turned towards Alice and spoke in a calm tone, “come, you’ve studying to do before you sleep.”

Alice scrambled to grab her blade and sheathed it, before turning and bowing to Instructor Sinclair and her page, an unfamiliar man to her. Then, she followed quickly behind her Instructor.

“Do you not like Instructor Sinclair?” Alice questioned curiously as they walked through the Seminary’s corridors.

Liel pursed her lips a bit before replying curtly. “I think Ms. Sinclair is too focused on interpersonal relationships and pleasure. Because her father is the head of the reputable Sinclair family, she has no need to worry about seeking out a Master to study under. So, she spends her days doing pointless things. I think her behaviour is detestable.”

This surprised Alice. It wasn’t often that her Instructor would talk ill of someone. Although, as her Instructor’s graduation from the Seminary neared, she had noticed odd changes in the woman’s behaviour. Of course, because she had a keen interest in Instructor Astalette, she would notice such things.

Alice bit her lips and glanced towards the ground. “Right, detestable behaviour…”