We speed back home together in the carriage; the atmosphere tense as I pointedly look out the window.

“Why did you spend all your coin?” Alan says suddenly.

“… I didn’t. I still have a couple hundred raem left.” I technically lie, as I only have 122 raem, or two large silvers and two small coppers left. I feel tense at the thought of revealing the strange pleasure I gained from spending so much coin.

“A couple hundred,” he scoffs, “that’s not even pocket money.”

“Maybe for someone who lines their walls with their wealth, but for most people that’s years’ worth of savings.”

“Yes,” he says condescendingly, “peasants who have peasant expectations. You’re a noble, your expenses escalate quickly.”

“…I have ways of making more coin.”

“What, those herbs you’ve been growing in the bathroom with that spell? I know they’re rare, but I doubt they’d fetch you more than a few thousand for the whole lot. It’s not like you can regularly hunt pirates this far from the sea.”

“Again, a few thousand would be a major asset to most people, and I think having more magic items is better than hoarding more coin than I know how to spend otherwise.”

“More coin than you can spend?” He laughs. “I mean, what if I died? You’d have to hire your own servants and buy your own lodgings. Your own solicitors to fight over your inheritance.”

“… I didn’t realize you intended me to be an heir.”

“Yeah, well um… I was thinking of modifying the will. I mean, it’d be odd if I’m going through all this trouble to host you, and you aren’t even on the list.”

“You don’t want to only leave things to your real relatives?” I ask, trusting the sound dampening enchantments on the carriage for secrecy.

“I uh, you know…” I don’t. “Anyways, wills can be contested, and your ‘cousins’ would certainly try. Don’t get me wrong, I’m very fond of my cousins, but they are all greedily eying my newfound wealth– a trait that makes me fonder of them if I’m honest. My point though, is that they will easily outspend you on solicitors if all you have is a few thousand raem.”

“… I’ll be more careful in the future.” I say, knowing that I probably won’t. “Why were you late?” I try to add as much edge to my voice as I can to turn the offensive.

“I told you; I wasn’t. The appointment had a four-hour window, and you barely used ninety minutes.”

“You didn’t tell me you intended on not using the earliest time though. I don’t like to wait on doing things. In my experience, delayed appointments are cancelled appointments, and I should probably be running.”

“You’re not fighting a war anymore Malch,” he says, using his familiarized form of my assumed name, not knowing how similar it is to my real one, “not everything is a sign of danger. Delays happen.”

“And what was yours?” I snap, irritated at his calm dismissal. “You’re avoiding answering, so let me guess. It’s not hard. There’s a perfume that’s not your usual lingering on you, your clothes are the same as yesterday with slight wrinkles in them, and your breath has expensive wine on it. Which one of your lovers were you with last night?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”

“And I don’t see how I spend my coin is any of yours!” I half shout back, causing the carriage to descend into an awkward silence.

He’s so irritating. He takes the oddest things seriously while completely neglecting important ones. He’s been late to lessons a few times too. It’s like he doesn’t feel the pressure of the approaching exam and what it means for the cause at all.

“…I didn’t think the wine was still noticeable to others.” He says, after a moment.

I glance at him, my thought broken and not really following why he decided to mention that specific detail, but decide to respond with a gruff amicability. “…I got the cat boon.” I say in way of explanation for my heightened smell.

“Oh, congratulations.”

“Yeah. I got it last night. I wanted to tell you, but you had already gone to your rendezvous.”

“Aw… sorry I wasn’t there to share the good news. We should celebrate!”

“Why? It’s just a boon.”

“Nonsense, noble families celebrate qualifying for new boons all the time.”

“It’s not new. I had it before, briefly.”

“But you still had to work hard to get it again. That deserves a celebration.”

“… I don’t even know what would qualify as a celebration anymore. My everyday luxuries exceed any treat I would have splurged on before. I think any celebration would just be lost amongst every other new delight.”

He shakes his head. “A celebration is just a pleasant break from the routine. I’ll take you to one of my favourite restaurants, going somewhere new will make the event seem special.” He taps on the sound conveyance symbol and tells the driver to change destinations to a particular restaurant.

“…They won’t assume I’m one of your lovers? Your clothes are still wrinkled.”

“Hah! They won’t notice. Besides, while you do have a sort of grim charm, you’re not nearly handsome enough to be one of mine.”

“…”

Not knowing how to take that, I remain silent for the trip. When we get there the staff gives Alan a familiar greeting and takes us to his ‘usual table’ on a terraced balcony overlooking a large public garden. The building is all of a smooth glossy stone with water works throughout and grape vines growing on thick columns engraved with scenes of playful mirth. Musicians are playing a gentle melody in the corner.

The room has several other guests in it, but each table is placed far enough away from each other to allow a mild atmosphere– not silent, but with gentle relaxing murmurs.

“My cousin from out of town is here to take the exam at the academy.” Alan introduces me to the server. “He just earned a new boon, so we’re here as a little celebration.”

“We’re very glad you chose us as your place of relaxation.” The waiter says before taking the order Alan makes for the both of us to share and leaves us to enjoy the ambience in silence.

“So,” Alan starts after the delicious appetizers (why do they call them that? Surely eating decreases appetite rather than inciting it?) arrive, “now that you have your gear, I assume you’ve finalized your test selections?”

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

“Yeah. I’ll do the unarmoured wooden sword tournament on the first day since we decided I should even if I lose points. Since it’s in the city I’ll do some of the written tests on the same day, then knock the rest out on the following ones. Besides the three mandatory ones I’ve selected herbalism, anatomy, medicine, navigation, astronomy, magic theory, magic language and applied theology.” I count them off with my fingers to make sure I’m not missing any.

“Applied theology?” He asks.

“It has recently become obvious to me that my… background has granted me an unusual level of insight on that matter.”

“Alright, I’ll put a practice test together when we get home. What else are you doing?”

“Well, I should be done with the academic tests by the fifth day when the tests at the exterior campus begin. I’ll do my archery and magic demonstrations first, and then spend the next three days doing the divination games. Since my field experience with divinations should help me stand out more than with the advanced spell tests.

“That will take me to the ninth day when the group fights start. I’ll take part in both instructor challenges, the tournament, and the breakthrough tests which will use up the rest of my time. If I get eliminated early in the tournament I’ll use that time to take some advanced magic tests.”

“A robust plan.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

We spend the rest of the meal talking about various small things that Alan says are important for me to be able to pretend to know about. The music being played among them.

Alan was right, everything is remarkably pleasant– enough to be worth calling a celebration. After the meal I feel full and forgiving, willing to forget Alan’s lateness, for now.

On the way back in the carriage he speaks with a smile. “By the way, I’m hosting a party at the town house at the end of the week. The invitations were sent before you arrived.”

“Alright, thanks for letting me know. The music shouldn’t be too distracting from my studies.”

“No, I mean you should attend.”

“…No thanks. I’m enjoying your decadence, but I’m not looking forward to tasting your debauchery.”

He laughs with his charming smile that I find so irritating. “You’ve been talking to the servants too much.” I haven’t, but I don’t correct him. “No worries. The first few hours are always tame, and you can retreat before things get too wild for your ‘mild tastes’.”

“I don’t have time to distract from my studies.”

“…Just think of it as an assignment for your etiquette lessons. Besides, it would be strange for me to be hosting your stay here and then for you to not show up to my own party. I’ll be expected to introduce you.”

“You think my progress is good enough?”

“Yeah, you’re learning quickly. They’ll assume any mistakes are from being a provincial noble.”

I smile despite myself at being told I’m learning quickly. He sees this, and so I feel pressured into nodding yes, but stop at the last moment. “Will there be anyone from the list?” I ask.

“Which list?”

“The list of people who are supposed to have met ‘me’ before the war.”

“Oh, that one. We need to come up with a clearer name for it. Let’s call it… blue. The blue list.”

“Blue?” I ask, dubious.

“It doesn’t sound ominous right? That way we can use the phrase in public without sounding suspicious. I mean, what would you prefer? Anything I can think of that’ll fit would sound sinister.”

“Blue is fine, just, answer the question.”

“Well, I didn’t invite anyone from it that I can think of, though I’ll go through the invitation list when we get back. However, I can’t be certain someone won’t use their plus one to bring someone ‘blue’.”

“I don’t know then.”

“Oh, come on, don’t worry. As the host I’ll be greeting everyone as they come in and can warn you away if a blue does come. It’s not likely with most of them being caught up in reorganizing Caethlon, and if you do meet them they probably won’t even remember ‘you’ anyways.”

“…All right, fine.”

“Great.” He says. “We should buy you new clothes.”

“You already bought me clothes.”

“Not party clothes.” He says, then tells the driver to change directions again, this time to a tailor.

I’m feeling tired from engaging so many people in one day, so I can’t muster the energy to remember the tailor’s name or their staff. Another balding man, but with an absurd moustache. I meekly pick out a fabric and pattern and then we go off again. Alan seems a little disappointed that I spent so little time on the clothes, but I don’t ask why.

When we get back and after my bath Alan presents me with the promised applied theology test, which just consists of a list of deity names with instructions to write down the details of their areas of influence and contracts. I know at least some details for all of them and so use up a full hour writing everything down.

“I admit, I’m impressed.” Alan says going over the test. “But um, maybe don’t include tactics for tricking people into compromising their divine oaths on the exam.”

“Why not? Isn’t that a primary way of fighting someone who is too strong to attack directly? Removing their strength and inciting a curse against them.”

“If they’re too strong to fight directly then you should avoid them. Compromising oaths harms the god who contracted the individual, that’s the whole reason why they curse those who fail to keep them.”

“Does that matter? It’s not like deities curse people for leading their contractors astray. It’s only cost effective to curse people who make the oaths because the contracts make it easier for the curse to take hold. Even if I cause a god minor harm with a seduction it would be just too costly to curse me.”

“Maybe, but beyond the injury there’s the insult. It’s disrespectful to deities and the empire’s policy is never to cause a deity disrespect.”

“What about to evil gods like Anar?”

“Even them. We might eradicate their cults, but we try to be respectful when doing so.”

I nod in acknowledgment– the little I witnessed during the eradication of my cult before I fled was surprisingly solemn. There goes a large planned source of points, though I think my general knowledge in the area should still be worth demonstrating.

I feel a sudden opportunity to ask something I’ve been hesitating about. “Why does the empire annihilate Anar cults anyways? It always seemed odd to me. It’s not like the empire doesn’t kill people in official acts. Why not benefit from the deaths if they’re going to do it anyway?”

“You aren’t familiar with the fallen empires?” He asks.

“Yes, but while Anar practices were allowed in some, it always seemed like there were other things going on that caused their collapses.”

“Maybe, but the case remains that every civilization that allowed Anar practices collapsed within a hundred years of their official acceptance. Some people say the cults were just a symptom of imminent collapse, but the empire is not looking to find out. Or at least they aren’t willing to test that particular variable.”

I nod. “Do you believe that the Anar worship was causal or correlative then?”

He shrugs. “I lean on the causal side. It makes sense that an empire that starts treating human lives as resources would become unstable.”

“But every civilization does that.”

“Not in the same way. A civilization might have a goal that it’s willing to spend lives to achieve, but with Anar the death becomes the ends rather than the means. If they limit the sacrifices to just their enemies then they feel compelled to expand outward at an unsustainable rate. If they start offering their own people then that will only hasten the collapse. Both due to depleting human resources and because of the resentment it would build up.”

“I don’t see why people should be particularly resentful for it. After all, the empire executes plenty of criminals.”

“Ignoring that it incentivises the rulers to expand the list of capital crimes, there is also a difference in merely killing someone, even torturing them to death, and offering them to Anar. The public might accept the necessity of an execution for worldly reasons, but there is no worldly reason they would accept for forcing the souls of those they know and even love to a different afterlife than they are destined to. To say nothing about the afterlife being one of perpetual torment.”

“I see…” I say, feeling slightly disappointed, though perhaps unreasonably.

“…How are you feeling?” He asks suddenly.

“…Alright, why?”

“Because I get a sudden sense that you were trying to sound me out for something risky, and it’s not hard to guess what. So, I need to know how your ‘condition’ is holding up.” He places emphasis on ‘condition’, mindful that the silencer device is in another room.

It’s annoying how insightful his enhanced perception can make him sometimes. I have to constantly counter it with my own boosts to coordination, but he still outclasses me.

I hesitate, not wanting to say, but he stares at me with unwavering eyes. “I don’t know, maybe I’m just tired from going around so much today.”

“You don’t believe that.”

Another annoying insight. “… The itching is getting worse again. I’ve started feeling it even when I’m in the bath… just a little. Who knows, maybe it’ll come in waves.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

I shrug. “Maybe put a bathtub in the garden? It’s less open to onlookers than at the other place.”

“… Alright, I’ll have some servants move one.”

“… There is one other thing you could do…”

He shakes his head adamantly. “No. I’ll do everything to help you get through this, but I won’t help you sate the desire.”

“And if I never get through this?”

“You will. You aren’t the first person to leave them. Others have found peaceful lives.”

“Others who have gone as deep as me? Three years of constant indulging Alan. I don’t think anyone in the group I was in had so many.”

“The answer is still no; I won’t help you in this.”

“…”

“…”

“Fine.”