Actually, I had expected to end up as a lecturer, much farther down the line. "For some reason, I thought that wouldn't be so bad. In response to my question, my master gave a soft sigh. "Then you became a lecturer at the clock Tower?" Not that we had a good enough room, or any decent textbooks to work from." Apparently, it was quite rare for someone from the Clock Tower to show up around there, so I ended up teaching a few of his sons for a bit. While I was visiting some sites around there, I went ahead and introduced myself to the Second Owner. That was the first time I got into the mess of teaching. "What was I talking about again? Right, about Greece. The contrast from the usual smell of cigar smoke made the whole scene feel completely out of the ordinary. The aroma of liquor drifted lazily out from the sofa. Not just because the Mediterranean was so close, they loved the water itself." Many parts of their culture, like this drink that is fondly reminiscent of the sea, is built around longing after something. It was like someone who had made a terrible mistake in the first move of a game of Jenga.Įven though the tower was constantly swaying, ready to topple at any moment, by sticking blocks in at just the right time and place, he was able to maintain a miraculous balance. Regardless of his humiliation and sense of inferiority, of how he envied the inborn talents of others, some of those others in turn offered him support. Something that could never be wiped away, no matter how many achievements he piled up as a Lord. I was sure that the master I saw now was a product of great hardship and conflict. But if you were to tell me that he was always like he was now, I would certainly think that was wrong. I couldn't even imagine my master with short hair, let alone with tears in his eyes. In the end, maybe what gave me the confidence I could survive back at the Clock Tower was feeling so close to death there." I also ended up getting in a fight with some gang, and had to use some otherwise useless magecraft just to escape. At one point my bag was stolen, and I just broke down crying. "At the beginning I was terrified of everything, though. Every country I passed through was blistering hot, after all." With a nod, my master narrowed his eyes. "Well, for my journey, it was better that way. Depending on the season, it shifted in colour from a sapphire blue to a wine red. It made me think of the colour of the far off Mediterranean Sea. I could even smell the mellow aroma it gave off from where I was. "Haha, back then my hair was much shorter." "Umm.if you were travelling alone, how did you deal with your hair? Did you brush it every day yourself?" My master continued to speak, his face beginning to faintly flush.Īs I saw his long dark hair occasionally cover the flush in his skin, a question suddenly occurred to me. Since Japan aside, it had been my first time outside of England, everything I saw and heard was novel.well, even my time in Japan was rather busy, so it was really my first time travelling by myself as well." The main push of my trip was through India and Persia, eventually ending up at Macedonia. Using the little money I had left, I wandered for a bit. "After all that had happened in Japan, I wasn't so keen on returning to the Clock Tower straight away, you see. Or maybe there was still some other reason we didn't know.įor whatever reason, after returning to his apartment off Druid Street, he once again took out his glass and alcohol.Īnd even rarer, he began to tell me a story of his past of his own volition. Or perhaps because it was his longest serving student, one who he had trained from the very beginning, who had been honoured. Perhaps because the achievement of the rank of Pride was rare for those under twenty years old, even within the El-Melloi classroom. Whenever the conversation turned that way, however, my master would always respond with a confused mix of happiness, sadness, frustration, and bitterness.Īs if he was watching small birds leap up to a place he could never reach.īut this time, my master's grief was unusually faint. The El-Melloi classroom was famous even within the Clock Tower for putting out excellent students one after another. He was celebrating the promotion of one of his students - Svin Glascheit - being raised to the rank of Pride. On a sofa that had some small relief from the surrounding mess, my master sat drinking. At least, so I heard from an old student.Īs usual, garbage, books, and game consoles littered the room. Supposedly the drink inside was a vintage home to Macedonia, one he only unstoppered for special occasions. My master was in uncharacteristically good spirits that night, holding a silver glass. "-that was back when I was travelling around the world."
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