Epsilon Twilight
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20. Unknown Traits
🕑 Added 2025-08-02 11:25:23 +0000 UTCAgatha felt like her head was going to explode. She wasn't the smartest, and she knew it, but it was almost demoralizing how hard it had been to pay attention to the class when it hadn't even been that long. She hated that aspect of herself. If she wanted to be the best lithorist ever and ace all her exams, then why was it so hard to pay attention?
The worst thing about it was that it wasn't anything too complicated. Maybe a bit convoluted – especially considering the class was given through formal language and an accent she wasn't fully used to – but nothing egregious. And the contents were fascinating. She couldn't wait to train her little sapphire to increase its Stratum! But… if she was so motivated… then why was it so hard to focus?
She would have sworn that she hadn't had this issue before when she was taught back at the village, so why should it be different here? This was supposed to be an academy, an environment carefully designed to make learning easier and more effective. Then why was her mind not in the right place when her heart was?
Soon, the rest of the students started standing up and leaving the classroom after the Agatecraft class was over. Agatha turned her head to the side to look at her roommate, one who boasted agate eyes, yet at the same time a vacant gaze.
"Is everything alright, Christie?" She asked the redhead.
"W-what?" The girl snapped out of her trance and blinked several times in bewilderment. "Yes, e-every… every-eve… everything is alright!" She responded with a massive blush that blended with her red hair and the red parts of her irises. "So…" Christie avoided her gaze and looked around. "Where is everyone going?"
"Were you asleep?" Agatha asked smugly.
"Not at all!" Her roommate crossed her arms and pouted. "I just was… lost in thought. The… Stratum thing is… curious, to say the least."
"On that we agree," she replied with a smile. "Though we should make haste, otherwise we will be left behind."
"R-right!" Christie jumped out of the bench. "So where are we going now?"
"The teacher said we will have physical education," Agatha explained to her.
"Physical education?" Her roommate's bicolored eyes turned dark in despair. "Oh…"
"You don't…" the seamstress-in-training coughed, "do not like physical education?" She asked as they walked down the corridors, following a trail of students, if lagging a bit behind them.
"Well… whilst I certainly do not take joy in it… it is just that my body is quite feeble, and even something as soft as a sprint takes my breath away."
"Then why did you come here? From what I heard the Skyscraper Academy has a more physically intensive… uhm, what is the word… uhm… curriculum? Yes, curriculum! This academy has a more physically intensive curriculum than most other academies."
"I did not exactly come here to be a soldier," Christie responded with an embarrassed giggle. "I know it will not be avoidable if I want to stick around, but… I will still want to be here."
Agatha smiled at that statement. "Me too."
They fell into silence as they followed the rest of the class, only to find that the male and female students had separated. Not knowing anything about it, Agatha and Christie followed the rest of their female classmates into a room. It was a spacious and elongated room with cabinets covering the walls and benches in the middle.
The dirty-blond girl started blushing as she saw the rest of her classmates removing her clothes.
"W-wha-wha-what is this room?" She asked as she grabbed her little sapphire for her dear life.
"Oh, I forgot that you did not have a tour of the academy," Christie said with a palm placed on her cheeks. "This is the locker or changing room, however you may like to call it. We are supposed to change here into our uniforms before any type of physical or military training."
"A-are we not in uni-uniform already?" Agatha felt her face flush as if she had doted it with the Heat command.
"We are wearing the academy uniform right now, not the military one, you mock sapphire," her roommate responded with a giggle.
Agatha's shame evaporated in a blink. "Mock sapphire?" She asked with a frown.
"A-ah…" Christie yelped in shame herself, her face becoming a tomato. "S-sorry, I tend to give nicknames to things and because I tend to s-speak when I am alone I… may have blurted it out… sorry…" Tomato may have even fallen short to describe the redhead as she apologized.
"No, I have no problem with it," the dirty-blond girl giggled nervously. "I was just surprised, I never had a nickname before. Thought I must ask, is it a negative one?"
"Not at all!" Her roommate shook her hands vigorously and looked like she was a step away from a nervous breakdown. "That is how I call my stoneshell too and I love him very much…"
"Do not fret, I already guessed as much," Agatha giggled again, but this time it wasn't out of nervousness but humor. "I find it lovely, Christie."
"Ah… okay…" the redhead responded sheepishly.
"So, what do we… do here? I mean, I have not brought any uniform here or anything…"
"Oh, fret net!" Christie said with regained confidence.
"Net?" Agatha interjected, and the girl lost her confidence immediately.
"Not! Fret not!" The redhead screeched like a shalesnapper in embarrassment. Then she cleared her voice. "As I was saying, you need not worry. The clerks of the academy should have brought a soldier's uniform already for you. Check for the lockers; one should have your name on a plaque."
"Right," Agatha turned her head to the room to search for her locker, cabinet, or whatever they were called, only to instantly regret it.
Many people. Many girls. Naked. Well, not actually naked, no one removed their undergarments, but… well… too much exposed skin…
"Is there something wrong?" Christie asked behind her, and Agatha turned to face here, only to see her already undressing.
"No-no-nothing!" She clutched her little sapphire, the gesture putting strain on the string of the pendant and painfully pushing it against her flesh.
"Oh!" Her roommate didn't seem to buy the excuse, but her eyes shot wide open in realization. She tiptoed toward Agatha with her blouse half-removed and whispered in her ear. "I forgot. You are conscious of being seen, right?"
Agatha clutched her agate tighter. "Yes…" she admitted softly.
"Well, this is quite the conundrum," Christie talked still through whispers. "You could wait before the rest has finished."
"But would that not make me late?" For some reason, her stupid eyes were very wet.
"I guess so…" the redhead responded unsurely.
"What if I change inside the locker?" Agatha suggested meekly.
"Uhm… I am not sure you will fit inside. But I guess you could give it a shot?"
Agatha soon noticed that this specific room of the institution took more from the military side than the academic one as the wooden cabinet that bore her name was just a step up from a shoebox. But true to Christie's statement, inside the locker was a uniform of her size. That's quite the quick work considering I arrived yesterday at a late hour. I wonder if I could have made it this fast myself…?
Ignoring the sudden loss of confidence in her tailoring skills, Agatha realized that there was no way to fit herself into the locker. Well, there was enough space to fit, but not to change. She might be petite, but she wasn't a pebble.
Not all curses were without their blessings, though. Her locker was right next to the entrance, and the locker's door opened in such a way that it blocked the rest of the room, so all in all, she was quite protected from gazes.
But that was still not enough.
Watching other girls was embarrassing enough, but the idea of being seen was earthshattering. It made her nauseous. The worst part was that she didn't know why; her mind just reacted like that.
This academy is making me discover too many traits about myself that I would have preferred not to know, Agatha sighed as she began unbuttoning her skirt. She had first thought that it was too long and most, but right now, it seemed like the perfect length as her heart pounded powerfully.
Most of the girls had already left the locker room, and the room itself was big, but even the sight of another person was enough to make her hands tremble. The reason why she had started with the skirt was that she could easily remove it and change her attire while glued to the locker.
"Huh," the seamstress-in-training mused as she took a pair of pants from the cabinet. "I should have guessed as much. They are soldier uniforms, after all."
She wasn't unfamiliar with pants, even if most of her clothes had been skirts, just because they were easier to sew, and her mother had forced her to make her own clothes since she was young.
"Wait…" As soon as she was about to remove her skirt, she realized a key detail. "I can put the pants underneath the skirt!" She felt as if she had reached a revelation of mythical proportions.
The military uniform used different socks from the academy one, so without removing her skirt yet, Agatha sat down on the bench and changed her long silk socks – or rather stockings – for a pair of shorter wool ones. After that, she stood up and changed her pants without having removed her skirt. For some reason, that felt even more shameful than changing with her bottom discovered. She took a peek at the rest of the locker room to find that there were only three other girls remaining, and none were looking at her.
Even if she felt like she was constantly being watched.
Once the pants hit her waist, Agatha felt at a loss as to how comfortable the pants were. Not because she didn't like pants, but because she was aware that making such a fine textile was beyond her capabilities, even if it wasn't the high fashion of the academy uniforms.
Quickly, she removed her jacket and blouse and changed to the upper attire of the military uniform. Obviously, the uniform fitted her perfectly, so she buttoned the new jacket and closed her locker behind her.
Only one girl remained in the locker room besides her, and she was already dressed.
"You did not need to wait for me," Agatha told her roommate as a slight heat assaulted her cheeks.
"Well, you needed someone to guide you," Christie countered politely.
"Ah, right," her cheeks heated even more. "Well, lead the way then."
There wasn't much need to be guided, after all, as the locker room led out to a single corridor that led out to the training grounds of the academy. While their class wasn't immediately situated at the exit, they were easy enough to spot.
"Is everyone here?" Teacher Dago, who was still wearing his black uniform, asked. Then his eyes zoomed around, and his mouth opened and closed slightly and intermittently for a moment before he clapped his hands. "Alright, we can finally start with physical education. This goes for everyone, but please, try to take less time in the changing room next time."
Whilst more than one girl and even a guy blushed, Agatha felt especially attacked. Mostly because, you know, she was the last student to finish getting changed. Blushing from her nervousness was one thing, but blushing from being called out by the teacher… If it wasn't because the class kept their eyes on René, Agatha would have fainted if they looked at her.
Why am I this stupid toda-? …Ah, she mentally grunted in realization. Well, these coming days are going to be especially awful.
"Whilst this class is called physical education, you must have in mind that this is a military academy. What we will perform are not your typical exercises, and whilst we might not get directly into combat training, you will get hurt. Furthermore, this will be the class that you will have every single day. Barring weekends, you are expected to wake up first thing in the morning and attend physical education class."
Groans echoed all throughout the class.
"I know it sounds awful, but you will soon find out that physical education during the morning is the best possible option. I speak from experience as someone who has been a student once, so I do not wish on anyone an arithmetic class at first hour. And, of course, the physical education class does not count toward the one to two classes per day I mentioned."
The groans became louder.
"That one I will allow," Teacher Dago said with an amused scoff. "Anyhow, I will not let you dread school from the very first day, so today we will do something far more interesting and do a combat mockup."
The eyes of almost every single boy lit up as if commanded by Light. How predictable, Agatha scoffed and crossed her arms as if her own eyes weren't sparkling.
"Now," the black-uniformed soldier clapped for attention, "combat is a dangerous thing. If I were to put you all into sparring with one another right now, you would get hurt. Who knows, maybe there would be a death?"
If that was a joke, no one laughed.
"To that, I propose another type of sparring. You," René Dago pointed at the class, "against me."
A girl raised her hand.
"Yes, Miss Lavender?" The teacher referred to her.
Immediately, Agatha's attention was grabbed. Not because the girl stood out – she was meek-looking and boasting an average length of auburn hair – but exactly because she didn't. Lavender, the dirty-blond girl realized. She's like me! Noble surnames were… well, they sounded like names, but if surnames sounded like words, then they were from commoners. Maybe Miss Lavender wasn't a villager like her, and maybe she lived in a town with a rather simple name, but it was comforting seeing another classmate who wasn't born with a silver spoon. Her roommate might not have been a noble, but… Christie was definitely born with a silver spoon.
"What do you mean when you say that we will spar against you? O-of course it is not all of us at the same time?" The teacher grinned at the female student's words. "R-right?" She added in a panic.
"Fret not, Miss Lavender," she instantly relaxed, "not even all of you going with the intent to kill me at the same time will be able to harm me." And then Miss Lavender was instantly the absolute opposite of relaxed.
That comment initiated many whispers flying around the gathered class. Agatha wasn't sure how powerful a soldier was, and even if their teacher seemed to have a title, she didn't think it possible that a single person could overpower the sheer number of agates that a class with thirty-something students might wield. Even if their average was only five – which was a very, very low estimate – that still meant fighting one hundred and fifty agates.
"I understand your doubts, and I also understand that you need a bit of humbling because I already lost count of how many times you started whispering between each other," the class instantly fell silent, "but trust your teacher here. You are nothing more than pebbles."
The insult got many reactions across the class, yet surprisingly, not a single person shouted in indignation. No matter that there were many nobles amongst the students. Perhaps it was the way he said it with his matter-of-fact tone, or the fact that he was an actual drilling instructor, but there was something unnatural in the way their teacher carried his words.
That absolute confidence.
"But first, I believe that Miss Valasela owes us a demonstration from before."
Suddenly, all the heads turned to face her roommate, and Agatha couldn't help but feel sorry for poor Christie.
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The3rd
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