Damn Academy - Chapter 169

[Episode 169] Homecoming (4)

Silveryn mentioned a restaurant she frequented in her youth. I envisioned marble tables and nobility lounging in their finery. However, peering out the window, I saw no such grand establishment. The sun barely reached the streets here, and the garb of the passersby was shabby. It was a secluded area populated by the lower classes.

“Let’s get out; it’s time to eat.”

Silveryn descended first, her robe shielding her from the rain. Her conspicuous long hair and attire concealed, she was unrecognizable. It seemed she intended to hide her identity. Silveryn sent the carriage away and we began to walk.

As we strolled through the streets, I understood her caution. Vagabonds and ruffians scrutinized us, drawn by the grace emanating from her concealed face.

She extended her hand.

“Take it.”

“…”

“Just walking might get you kidnapped. Take my hand.”

“I’m too old for that.”

Must I really say such things? At times, Silveryn treats me like a child.

“No, you look exactly like someone who should be kidnapped. Come on, take it.”

After repeated insistence, I relented and clasped her hand. Despite her height and high-heeled shoes, I felt like a child being led by an adult. Nevertheless, the odd distance between us vanished as our hands met.

Winding through alleys, we reached a sunnier main road, and Silveryn steered us into a bright, bustling tavern.

We settled at an empty table amidst the raucous din of drunkards. Judging by the attire of the dining patrons, none were of noble status.

The tabletop was littered with strange herbs and sawdust, scarred with knife marks. Had Silveryn visited such a rough place since childhood?

“I didn’t realize you were from the Duchy.”

“I did spend most of my childhood there.”

“In a place like this?”

“Yes, it brings back memories. Did you know? People here used to call me a Siren.”

“Why is that?”

“When I screamed, people would cover their ears and fall over.”

“…Was it a spell?”

“I didn’t know magic back then. It was just the pressure of my innate magical power that they couldn’t withstand.”

“A born magician, then.”

I had imagined her upbringing to be privileged, but it seemed Silveryn had experienced her fair share of hardship.

“Yes. That’s how I survived here.”

I wanted to ask more about her life with her sibling, but I feared freezing the newly thawed atmosphere.

A server approached our table, and Silveryn quickly ordered as if she had been contemplating it all along.

Goat milk cheese, pickled fish, pumpkin pie, venison.

The meal placed before us was lavish for a commoner, yet modest for nobility.

“Go ahead, eat.”

“You should eat too.”

She supported her chin with her hands, watching with bright eyes as I began my meal.

The food was beyond reproach.

“How is it? Good, right?”

“Very delicious.”

“It was worth braving the danger to come here.”

Was this a cherished place from her memories that she wanted to share with me? This simple gesture pierced deep within me, akin to the warmth felt when traveling with family.

“Teacher.”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you so kind to me?”

“Out of the blue?”

It was a sudden question, but one I had pondered for some time.

“Yes. I’m curious.”

T h i s w a s c o pi e d f ro m k i n gm t l. o r g
“You possess something I never had.”

“Is there something you don’t have?”

She seemed capable of obtaining anything she desired.

Silveryn chuckled informally.

“I’m only human.”

I didn’t know exactly what she lacked that I possessed, but I silently thanked the heavens for it.

“When will you be leaving?”

“I’ll depart tomorrow morning.”

“…”

“Too soon? I feel the same. It’s regrettable.”

“What’s detaining you this time?”

“A prisoner has escaped from the Duchy’s underground prison. Not a dangerous individual, but one with crucial information… No, an entity wandering about.”

“What if you capture it?”

“Then I’ll head to the north.”

“Can’t I be of help?”
T h i s wa s co p ied f ro m k i ngm t l . o r g

Silveryn shook her head decisively.
T h i s w a s c o p ie d f ro m ki n g m tl .o r g

“You still need to grow. My responsibilities are mine, and you must walk your own path.”

T h i s w a s c o pi e d f r o m k i n g m t l .o r g
Had I not grown as much as I thought in her eyes?

***

We opted to walk instead of taking the carriage. Winding through dilapidated buildings, we entered a forest trail bathed in moonlight and starshine. Silveryn, fearing I might get lost, clutched my hand tightly and summoned a will-o’-the-wisp for light.

“Did you walk this path daily?”

“Yes. It’s become so overgrown since hardly anyone comes here anymore.”

We were headed to Silveryn’s childhood home.

Arriving at a log cabin with a grassy yard, it seemed well-maintained despite being uninhabited. A Plantara emerged from behind the house shortly after we entered the yard.

“…!”

T h i s w as co pi e d f r om ki n g m t l. o r g
“This is my cottage—can’t have just anyone taking over.”

Upon closer inspection, it was holding weeds. She must have instructed a Plantara to tend the house.

Silveryn opened the door, and we entered. The interior comprised a living room and two adjoining rooms. She removed her robe casually and hung it on a chair.

“Would you throw some logs in the fireplace?”

“Sure.”

I fetched some logs from the yard and tossed them in; they ignited spontaneously. The warmth filled the long-neglected house.

“Sit down for a bit.”

Silveryn brought in a kettle, filled it with tea leaves, and set it before the fireplace.

As water heated, I surveyed the house. Evidences of life were deeply imprinted there.

A small checkered dress, unlikely to fit Silveryn, hung on the wall. On another wall, notches marked growth spurts. It seemed like traces of her childhood still lingered.

Silveryn handed me a cup of tea.

“Drink.”

I accepted the cup and asked,

“Did you and your sibling live like this daily?”

“No.”

She sipped her tea, pausing before continuing.

“My sibling had more sick days than healthy ones. So, there aren’t many memories of us doing things together.”

“…”

She laughed without joy.

I regretted broaching the subject of her sibling. I hurried to change the topic.

“Teacher, what’s that?”

I pointed at a silver box on a shelf.

“That? Oh.”

She stood, took the box, and presented it to me.

“Open it.”

Inside was a music box that played a serene melody. It seemed as if several instruments blended harmoniously, emitting a rich sound. I couldn’t fathom how such a tiny object could produce such a diverse and abundant sound.

“It’s a magic music box.”

“How did you come to have it?”

“It was brought by the examiners to enroll me in Eternia.”

“Why would they do that?”

T his wa s cop i e d f r om k i n g m t l . o rg
“To show there’s another world out there. I was unimpressed by all the magic shows, but this music box completely captivated me.”

“I think I might be captivated too.”

“In due time, you’ll hear this tune again. It’s the representative song of Eternia’s ball, ‘Bella and Abel’.”

“…”

The mention of a ball turned my stomach. Silveryn, with her keen senses, noticed the subtle shift in my expression.

“Your first ball is next month. Have you chosen a partner?”

The event was drawing near, and I hadn’t even learned to dance.

“I don’t enjoy dancing.”

Silveryn’s skeptical gaze didn’t waver. What could she be suspecting?

“Shouldn’t you learn to dance anyhow?”

“I was planning to learn when the time comes.”

“Ah, how long will you wait for ‘the right time’? Get up.”

“Now?”

“You said you’d learn when the time comes, right? Well, now’s the perfect time. Who else but your teacher will teach you?”

I was unprepared; I thought I had a decade before I’d consider it.

Exasperated, Silveryn grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet.

T h i s w a s c op i e d from ki ngm t l .o r g
“Teacher?”

She then placed the music box in my hand and pushed me outside.

“Take off your shoes!”

Yelling, she too flung off her shoes and cast them aside.

Bewildered, I shed my shoes and stood barefoot on the grass, the moonlight illuminating the yard.

“Open the music box.”

I complied, placing the open box a short distance away, its tranquil tune mingling with the chirping of night insects.

Tense, I stiffened up. I didn’t want to show it, but I knew Silveryn would notice.

She closed the gap between us, leaving only a hand’s span.

“Put your hand on my waist.”

“…Okay.”

My hand rested on her slender waist, feeling her movements with each breath.

She placed her hand on my shoulder.
Thi s w as c o pi e d f r o m k i n gm t l. org

“Looking at you now, you’ve certainly grown. When we first met, you were chest height.”

“Will I ever reach the same height as you?”

“Eventually. My concern is that day might come too quickly.”

“…”

I aspired to stand shoulder to shoulder with her and to be a support.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Follow the rhythm—start by stepping to the right.”

Awkwardly, I moved sideways. Silveryn glided along with my motion.

“Now to the left.”

Following her lead, I danced until I accidentally trod on her foot, feeling mortified at the blatant misstep.

“It’s alright.”

“Sorry…”

Worrying I’d bruised her delicate foot, she reassured me.

“There’s a famous play that says, ‘It’s not a dance until the steps intertwine.'”

“…It’s the complete opposite of swordsmanship.”

“Exactly, that’s the charm of dancing.”

At first, I couldn’t meet Silveryn’s eyes, but as time passed, I grew accustomed and no longer struggled to look at her.

We may not have been graceful dancers, but we moved with the music.

I looked up at her. The soft moonlight caressed her face, highlighting a faint smile and the flush on her cheeks.

T h i s w a s c o p i e d fr om k in g mt l. or g
It was an unforgettable night.

***

Morning came, and we began to stir.

The swift arrival of our parting caught us by surprise.

Silveryn handed over the carriage to me and decided to procure a horse from the local authorities.

We stopped at our predetermined parting spot and disembarked.

Facing each other, Silveryn spread her arms wide.

Without hesitation, we embraced. After a tender moment, I spoke first.

“When can we see each other again?”

“I’ll return for the break.”

“Understood.”

“But… can I get a kiss now?”

“…What?”

Silveryn tightened her grip around my waist. No matter how much I wriggled, she wouldn’t loosen her hold. I began to feel claustrophobic.

Looking down at me, she said,

“Kiss.”

“Teacher…”

I protested, caught in a dilemma.
T h i s w a s cop i e d f r o m k i n gm t l . o r g

Silveryn’s tone cooled as she urged me,

“I’m starting to feel a bit regretful.”

As I averted my gaze, Silveryn tilted her head in the direction I looked. There was no escape.

“Hurry.”

I faced a serious quandary.

It was too much for a gesture of closeness between teacher and student, yet not enough for something more. It was a precarious act that straddled an ambiguous line. Engaging wouldn’t necessarily disrupt our relationship, but it would surely cross an irrevocable boundary.