'Enjoy the view' was a bit of an understatement for her, however; the only thing she truly enjoyed was the adrenaline rush that a fight was able to produce. One's life force, against someone else's. She didn't enjoy other people's company, she found little pleasure in eating food, she didn't particularly enjoy music, literature, art, philosophy, or even books of theory of combat. Weapons were only tools, and clothing a matter of what one was used to, or felt comfortable with. She didn't need friends, lovers, or family. She only needed excuses to fight, because the world was set up in such a way that fights needed excuses. She didn't care what the excuse was. She didn't care if it was under someone's command, or her own volition. So long as she got to fight with all her might, she was satisfied. Fighting in groups was for those weak enough that were not able to handle themselves on their own. Battles weren't fair, but that's what made them all the more exciting. The ability to overcome a stronger opponent, therefore becoming stronger oneself, was one a wonderful feeling. Luck, while sometimes a decisive factor, was not a variable to be relied upon. Losing, was sign of one's weakness. No excuses. Survival made one stronger, but dying while in battle wasn't something to be escaped from; au contraire, it was the only way to die. Honor meant shit, loyalty was pointless, and truth was relative.

These were Selenia's core beliefs. These were what set them apart from many people. If battle was the highlight in one's life, moments like this, moments were one simply sat idle with a cup of coffee and stared through a window at the seemingly peaceful scenery were utterly boring. She closed her eyes, and recalled a battle she had recently. It was as if she wasn't herself, and was watching her body from a third-person view. She traced her every movement, her swings, her feet, her hands... ah, what a feeling. In battle, there were two types of people: those who thought about what to do, and those who didn't, those who moved fueled by a deeper feeling, be it fear, instinct, reflexes. Selenia was of the latter type. In this sense, she was very much like an animal. She used two swords, because she had two hands. If she would've had born with three hands, she would've used three swords. There was no off-hand either. Both hands were equally skilled. She could throw a ball with the same precision with any of her arms, just as she could write with both hands. This was the extent of Valgarn's, and her own training.

Had 5 minutes passed? 10? She didn't know, since she didn't have a clock except in her room. She tossed the empty cup in the trash can, and headed back to the room. When she came in, things were exactly like when she had gone out, except now there seemed to be one more person in the classroom. She took her sit, rested her katanas on the side of her desk, and waited for the class to resume.