He almost stammered:
“Does that… work for me?”
“Of course it does! I was expecting you to swim on the surface—not to do the entire length underwater without breathing!”
He stared at Kael, still reeling.
“Where did you learn to swim like that? So smoothly—underwater?”
Kael, still in the pool, wasn’t looking at him.
He was playing with the water.
His fingers skimmed the surface, creating faint ripples, small waves.
His eyes were fixed on the water, not the teacher.
“I grew up in a place where water is everywhere,” he replied simply.
“A lot of people who live there can do what I just did.”
“For me, there’s nothing exceptional about it.”
“And besides… I prefer swimming fully submerged.”
The teacher remained speechless for a moment.
Then he asked:
“Where did you grow up?”
Kael shrugged casually.
“Far from here, I guess.”
“You probably don’t know it.”
He paused, then added:
“Can I stay in the pool for a bit?”
“Uh… yes, if you want,” the teacher replied, slightly unsettled.
Kael removed his cap and goggles and set them on the edge.
He shook his head, and his light brown hair—long and damp—fell loosely forward.
After spending so much time in the sun lately, it had lightened, almost blond now.
His fringe partially hid his eyes.
He pushed off gently from the edge and drifted toward the center of the pool.
Then, effortlessly, he let himself float onto his back.
Without moving.
As if he were merging with the water.
It’s been so long since I’ve really enjoyed being in water…, he thought.
I love this feeling. Floating. Being carried, without weight.
He closed his eyes.
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
Memories rose to the surface.
His mother.
A beautiful woman.
Long brown hair, loosely tied back.
A few strands drifting in front of her brown eyes.
A smile that could melt any man.
She wore a simple dress, without frills…
The fabric was lifted to her knees, her feet standing in the water.
She was gathering fabrics and soaked clothes from the Soléen, wringing them out by hand before placing them into a large wicker basket.
She turned her head toward Kael.
He couldn’t have been more than ten years old.
He was swimming, carefree, splashing the water with boundless energy.
“It’s time to go,” she called softly, an angelic smile on her face.
“Come on, you little rascal.”
Kael ran toward her, dripping wet, and wrapped his arms around her leg.
She gently placed a hand on his head, stroking his soaked hair.
A tear slowly slid down Kael’s cheek…
…and vanished into the water of the pool.
He snapped out of his reverie.
Fuck…
I just cried in front of everyone.
He turned his head, anxious.
No one seemed to have noticed.
A few gazes were still resting on him, but the water around him concealed his face.
Impossible to tell if he had been crying.
He shook his head, brushing the memory away like a passing cloud.
Then he swam to the edge, braced himself, and climbed out of the water.
Kael walked back toward the teacher, his hair still damp.
“Earlier, the instructor said I’d get a twenty out of twenty.”
“I don’t know what it is… but I’d really like to have it.”
The PE teacher blinked, surprised, as if he hadn’t heard correctly.
“Huh?”
“But… that’s a grade, Kael.”
“It gets added to your overall average. It’s not an object.”
“Oh… okay,” Kael replied, visibly disappointed.
“So I went through all that trouble for nothing.”
The teacher burst out laughing.
“It’s still the highest grade, you know.”
“I don’t really see what more you could ask for.”
He motioned for Kael to follow him.
“Come on. Go back to the locker room and get changed.”
Kael put his sports clothes back on.
He took a moment to put his shoes back on, still just as fascinated by how comfortable they were.
These shoes… he couldn’t get enough of them.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
They were light, sturdy, perfectly fitted.
Walking in them felt like gliding.
The teacher glanced at a metal bracelet around his wrist.
“It’s already noon.”
“Time to go eat.”
Eat.
That was an interesting prospect for Kael.
He had definitely earned a good meal.
But a very simple question crossed his mind.
“Uh… where exactly am I supposed to go eat?”
The teacher looked at him as if he had just asked what a fork was.
“Well… the cafeteria, obviously.”
“What do you think?”
He stared at him for a moment.
“Are you sure you’re actually a student at this school?”
Kael shrugged, honestly.
“I’m not sure myself.”
The teacher burst out laughing.
“Well, I’m heading there too.”
“So I’ll walk you over. That work for you?”
Kael nodded.
“Just go change back in the gym locker rooms first, though.”
“You can’t walk around without your uniform.”
Kael went back to the locker room, carefully put his uniform back on, then rejoined the teacher.
They headed toward the cafeteria together.
From what Kael had overheard along the way, the teacher seemed to be named Mr. Martin.
They arrived in front of a building made almost entirely of glass.
Outside, numerous tables had been set up. Students were already eating there, their meals laid out before them, not so different from what one could find in Soléandre. Some sat in the grass, others beneath the shade of a tree.
Kael watched the strange yet familiar scene for a moment, then followed Mister Martin inside.
The cafeteria was packed and incredibly noisy. Voices overlapped in a constant din.
Staff members—or something that looked like them—stood behind a counter, handing out trays to the teachers.
Mister Martin gestured to Kael.
“This is where I leave you.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing you again in PE!”
And he vanished among the other teachers.
Kael then noticed students lining up to receive their own trays. By deduction, he joined them and took his place in the queue.
Many eyes were on him.
The girls glanced at him out of the corners of their eyes, some blushing when they caught sight of him.
The boys, on the other hand, seemed to be subtly comparing themselves to him, trying to look casual about it.
Then a familiar voice called out from farther up the line:
“Hey! Kael!”
It was Jeff, waving at him enthusiastically.
Kael made his way over, slipping through the line.
Jeff clapped him on the back, proud.
“Damn, what you pulled off during climbing earlier was insane!”
“You never told me you could do something like that!”
He laughed.
“And the teacher—you should’ve seen her! She didn’t say a single word for the rest of the class. A total statue!”
Kael replied dryly, with a hint of sarcasm:
“I tend to have that effect on people lately.”
The line moved slowly.
The women serving the trays were clearly in a bad mood. One of them handed Kael a tray without a word—or rather, practically tossed it at him.
Kael didn’t react.
Served properly or not, food was still food. He’d known far worse.
Once served, he left the cafeteria and sat down at a table in the sun.
He placed his phone on the table. He fully intended to study it, to understand how to use it properly.
Being able to tell the time would already be a good start.
He started eating.
The food was good. Not as refined as at the Institute, but far better than when he’d had to hunt saber-creatures in restricted zones.
He glanced at his phone screen. The numbers had just changed.
He read: 12:14.
He began counting silently.
“How long do we have before classes start again?” he asked Jeff.
“Classes start again in an hour and fifteen minutes,” Jeff replied, his mouth full.
A moment later, the display on his phone switched to 12:15.
Sixty seconds, Kael concluded.
The first number is the hours. The second, the minutes… a practical way to tell the time.
He finished his meal in silence.
Jeff came back over, and the two of them returned their empty trays inside.
Kael then said:
“I’m going to the library. We’ve still got a bit of time.”
Jeff raised his hands, as if to say no thanks.
“Alright.
But no way I’m forcing myself to look at more books than necessary.”
And he headed off on his own.
Kael made his way toward the library.
He entered the building Jeff had mentioned earlier that day.
His muscles ached slightly. He could feel the beginnings of soreness.
The two sports sessions that morning had definitely left their mark.
He rolled his shoulders to ease the tension, then followed the signs carved into the walls pointing the way.
When he pushed open the library doors, the atmosphere struck him immediately.
It was almost mystical.
Not a sound.
The students inside worked in complete silence, each focused on their task, bent over books or screens.
Near the entrance, a middle-aged woman sat at a desk.
She was plump, wearing brightly colored glasses with an indistinct frame, perched low on her nose.
She flipped through documents with great care.
Kael approached her.
“I’m looking for mathematics books,” he said in a normal voice.
The woman abruptly looked up, eyes wide, and immediately put a finger to her lips.
“Shhh! This is a library! Speak more quietly!”
Kael, without changing his tone:
“But I’m not even speaking loudly…”
“Be quiet at once,” she hissed, in a voice that somehow sounded like shouting… without actually making noise.
She stretched out an arm toward a section at the back.
“Mathematics textbooks are over there.”
Kael spotted a small sign reading “MATHEMATICS.”
He thanked her politely, in a voice so low it was barely audible, then headed toward the indicated section.
He began flipping through the various textbooks available.
Kael picked up one of the books from the top of the stack.
The cover was plain and rigid, decorated with strange symbols embossed in relief: triangles, circles, figures he vaguely recognized… without understanding what they meant.
He read the title quietly, slowly:
“The… great… theo-rems… ex-plained… sim-ple-ly.”
He frowned.
“What’s a theorem?” he murmured to himself.
He lowered his eyes to the three names printed underneath, lined up like honorary titles.
“Thales… Pythagoras… Euclid?”
He squinted.
“They sound like some kind of demigods… or parasites. Hard to tell.”
He reopened the book, hesitant.
On the very first page, a sentence greeted him:
A theorem is a proposition that can be demonstrated from axioms within a formal framework.
He immediately closed the book.
The sharp clap echoed through the library.
He stared at it in silence.
Then let out a deep sigh.
“I… don’t understand anything at all.”
“Not a single damn word.”
And yet, a faint smile tugged at his lips.
He placed the book back on top of the pile, brushed the cover with his fingers, then picked up another.
Kael grabbed a new book.
This one had a plain gray cover, no illustration, with a title written in thin, serious lettering:
Introduction to Mathematical Logic.
He read it slowly, brow furrowed.
“Mathematical logic…”
“That sounds like something I should understand… and absolutely don’t.”
He opened the first page.
A strange diagram greeted him.
Letters. Arrows.
Symbols he had never seen in his life.
He read the first line.
Let P be a true proposition, then not not P is equivalent to P.
He froze.
“Not not P?”
“What is that supposed to be? A double negation? An incantation?”
“And who is P? Why is P true? We haven’t even met P yet!”
He turned the page.
A list of rules was neatly laid out:
- ?P → Q
???Q → ?P
??P ∨ Q
??P ∧ Q
Kael blinked.
“These aren’t mathematics. These are runes.”
He tried to read the sentence below:
Every contrapositive implication is logically equivalent to its original form.
He closed the book slowly. The sound was barely audible—almost respectful.
He stared at the cover, then murmured:
“I didn’t understand anything. Absolutely nothing.”
He put the book back on the pile, his gaze drifting into empty space for a second. Then he reached for another.
Kael didn’t understand most of the titles at all, but…
he was strangely drawn to them.
The words “arithmetic sequence” meant nothing to him.
“Thales” even less.
But he wanted to understand.
Without hesitation, he took almost all of them.
A massive stack, which he carried with some effort to an empty table.
He dropped them down with a loud thud, drawing several disapproving looks.
Students looked up, irritated.
The librarian shot him a dark glare, practically drilling holes through him with her eyes.
But Kael was all smiles.
He sat down, opened one of the textbooks at random, and thought:
“I have no idea what these books are talking about…
But I’m already interested.”