Sam woke up from a dreamless sleep. And even worse, he woke up feeling energetic and full of vigor. In other words, he was not his usual self this morning. This created a call to mental action in him. For, in order to keep a balanced mind, the pessimist must always pair all good things with their negative counterpart. And so, Sam was quick to latch onto still another change in his morning experience. The alarm sound was different. The same track that has been etched into his memories by years of listening to it at the start of almost every day was lost in the ashes of humanity’s flight from planet Earth. In its stead; a poor imitation. A melody that took Sam all of three minutes to settle on after deciding it was the one he hated least.

With unnecessary grunting, he got out of the bed and over to the phone charger connected to the outlet by the desk. For although the device retained most of its battery while waiting for him to complete his circadian cycles, it still lost some. And one quick way for Sam to prove to himself that he was no longer the same person would be him being comfortable starting the day without a fully charged phone. After all, who knew when or even if it would be possible to charge it while following in Dan Ritter’s footsteps? Yes… it was a completely rational behavior. Nothing compulsory nor obsessive about it.

It was at this moment that Sam finally took notice of the status his body was in, or rather, the status his body was not in. Yes, there was pain to be found around most of it. His legs were especially loud in voicing their discomfort. But that was it, no limp, no tremor of any limb, no constant reminder why he always took two days of rest after the first time working out in a while. It was pain, but much more tolerable pain than he expected considering the state Sarah left his body in yesterday. In fact, if you put a real gun to his head (to help the figurative one in case it couldn’t quite get the job done), Sam felt like he could have another workout like that as soon as this evening.

With the phone quickly filling, Sam pondered on whether to use his half an hour for a morning shower or a start of the day meditation. Meditation, he soon decided. The improvement in mental health was better, and Sam smelled no reason to pursue hygiene at this moment in time. After brushing his teeth (and no, the toothbrush was still not worth its weregild in the bright hours of the morning) and washing his face. He took notice of his blemishless skin, courtesy of socially incompetent Web-Web. He also noticed that his beard seemed to grow at a much slower pace than it used. By now, with three days of not shaving, his facial hair was still showing only lightly. “No pimples and a less annoying beard,” Sam said while rubbing his chin. “Maybe we can finally pull off that five o’clock shadow I’ve always wanted. Or! A goatee, like Chandler! Why is Chandler the first example I go to when I think about a goatee? Something’s wrong with me, man…”

After he finished his morning business (the fact that he forgot to pee first and had to wash his hands twice showed just how out of his element he was) he sat down on a chair, set the timer for fifteen minutes and his mind to meditating. He was having a hard time. Despite how “better” he got at mediating during his stay at the hospital, it seemed that the last three days have caused him to regress in the practice. It was probably the deluge of new information, he decided after a couple of minutes, providing a distinct example said regression. Still, trouble or not, he managed to finish his fifteen minutes in record time and after getting dressed, he spent the remaining minutes until eight continuing his playlist duty from yesterday.

At eight exactly, came a knock from his door. “Good morning,” Dan said. “Are you ready to go?”

Sam nodded. “Is there anything that I need to bring with me for the day? Like a laptop or one of the notebooks that I didn’t let Sarah buy me because my handwriting is horrendous?”

“No, I shouldn’t think so. Just your phone would be fine. Oh, you should bring a towel and some spare clothes for exercising in.”

Sam groaned. He just had to run his mind. “What’s on the physical menu today?” he asked, while gathering the aforementioned items and shoving them into his new backpack.

“Weapons training, or weapon training, to be exact. But all in good time, do come along.”

After they went down a floor (Blasted stairs! Don’t think that we’re square for what happened yesterday) Sam asked, “So where to first?”

“Breakfast.”

“Seriously dude? I’m not an agoraphobe. I can find the way to the… mess hall by myself. You could’ve just told me to eat before we met up.”

“Nevertheless, I have cleared my schedule for the day with the explicit purpose of accompanying you to breakfast and lunch.”

“OK, what’s the deal with people clearing their schedule for me? What, you don’t trust me not to get myself killed if I’m left alone for more than five minutes?”

“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. It’s only after ten minutes that we lose our trust in you.” He smiled. Sam tried to make sure that the face he was making delivered the message that he was not amused (despite being very amused). Making a joke about a serious topic that involved his own person? Only Sam was allowed to do that!

Dan cleared his throat, crushed by the power of Sam’s stare. “While I can’t speak as to other people’s—and I’m assuming you mean Sarah’s and Maurice’s—thoughts. For my coming along with you today there’s two main reasons: First, we are going to go all around campus today and while yes, there is an app, and no, I don’t think you’re an idiot, I still thought it’d best that I’ll be on hand to guide you along. But much more important, as I’m going to be your main tutor for as long as it takes you to catch up with your peers, I thought it would be best to spend more time getting to know you.”

“Oh. I didn’t even know you were a teacher. I thought you were just some pencil pushing bureaucrat.”

“You didn’t have to say the last part, you know?”

“Oh. Don’t take it the wrong way. I love pencil pushing bureaucrats. Many people aren’t fans, but I’m a big believer in bureaucracy,” Sam said as they stepped out of the dorm while shielding his eyes from the bloody fake sunlight.

“That may be fine and well for you. But I do not like pencils. Please to do not term me as a person who uses pencils.” Dan’s tone was completely serious, his eyes betraying no trace of humor. He must really hate pencils, Sam thought. Wonder if is there is an actual phobia of pencils? Probably, right? There’s one for everything.

Out loud he said, “Right… sure, yeah. Sorry about that, won’t mention pencils again. I myself am also not a big fun of the buggers; especially not when the tip broke and—”

“I get your point.”

“Sorry… So anyway, you’re also a teacher?”

“Technically, I don’t teach classes or any of the derivatives that we have in the academy, so I’m not counted among the institution’s faculty. But I am the person in charge of special cases, and you are definitely the most special case the academy has ever had. I admit to considering the option of not teaching you personally but instead juggling you between different teachers depending on the subject and who’s available. But, it quickly became apparent to me that it was most efficient to put myself in charge of you schooling. For the time being, at least.”

Sam nodded along, but he wasn’t completely sold on his new instructor. “So you’re technically not a teacher, but you do know how or what to teach me, right? I don’t mean to be an asshole or anything, it’s just this is literally the first thing that I’m going to do with my new lease on life here, and I really want it to get off to a good start.” And also if I fuck up, then everyone else is gonna get fucked.

“No need to worry. I am perfectly adequate for imparting to you with the knowledge you’ll need in order to make the most of your time here. Unlike Maurice, I don’t greatly enjoy teaching, least of all whole a classful of people. And so, in order to reconcile my duty with my preferences, I keep to tending to just the best and brightest amongst those who made their way to the academy. Students like your friend Sarah, or the Twins that I’m sure you’ll meet soon enough. True, I have never directly involved myself in their studies as much as I’m planning to do with you. But none of them as ever needed my personal attention as much as you have, not to mention your… other qualities.”

“OK, so should I just go ahead and message Sarah, asking her to rate your teaching ability from one to five?”

Dan laughed. “Go ahead. I’d be very interested in what she had to tell you. Whether she’d be able to separate her personal disagreement with my teaching in order to give an objective as possible assessment.”

“Personal disagreement? You do realize that Sarah is like the person that I trust most in the world right now, right? If you and her have a personal disagreement, that doesn’t paint you in a good light in my completely ignorant eyes.”

“Hmm… true enough. Let me rephrase that. I have repeatedly given Sarah advice pertaining to her chosen path in her time here. She has disagreed with me and so far ignored my advice. But, I’m sure that were you to ask her, she would be very happy with me choosing to tutor you personally.”

“It’s cool. I was just joking anyway. I’m obviously not gonna message her that.” I’m going to ask her in person. “But why are you coming down so hard on poor Sarah? Isn’t she a prodigy for making it to level 3 already? Plus, from what I’ve seen, she takes her studies and… physical training, really seriously.”

Dan sighed. “It’s not that she’s not a hard worker, quite the opposite, in fact. Her problem is applying herself to too many things at once. I told her time and time again: to slow down, limit her focus, and make some sacrifices. But she never listens. For example: She trains with both the sword and hand to hand for close quarters combat and the bow and sling for ranged. The end result of such haphazard a regiment is that she spreads herself too thin and doesn’t achieve optimal results. That’s what happened with her reaching level 3. The academy’s base line for excellence is for pupils to make up one level in one and a half years, so that they graduate at 4. And while it’s true that close to half of the cadets never manage that growth, Sarah shouldn’t be judged by the rate of advancement when compared to regular Terrans. She is, after all, a Taken. In my opinion, if she allocated her time more efficiently, she could have made level 3 half a year ago.”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“You guys use slings?” Sam asked, choosing not to focus on the terrifying prospect that he might need to spread himself even thinner than Sarah. Like the minuscule amount of mayo that remains in the bottle you forgot to throw out, which somehow has to accommodate your double cheeseburger with fries delivery that just got here with no condiments (because you were trying to be environmentally conscious and you were sure that you had another bottle laying somewhere).

“Yes. It is mechanically a very simple weapon. Which makes it very suitable for both mass production and general training. And while almost all people that train with a sling also train in close quarters combat as well, training with the bow is much more time consuming. And we generally try and dissuade students from training in more than one combat method after their first year. Still, Sarah’s physical regiment is really the least of my worries. It’s the multiple magical fields whose study she decided to embark upon. But, Sarah’s choices are her own and as long you don’t develop your own opinion on them, you shouldn’t trouble yourself with the matter. And in any case, your studies are going to be much more focused than hers. I’ll see to that myself.”

“You got it, boss man!” As long as Web-Web doesn’t tell me otherwise, that is. That’s going to be a fun conversation: “Hey Dan, mate, I’m sorry… I know that I promised you not to stray, like that harlot Sarah. But the possibly imaginary AI that squats in my brain told me that I also need to study Egyptology in order to save the world. So I’m going to have to cancel our classes on Tuesday.”

Dan smiled. “Good. It’s already been hard enough trying to build a curriculum for you that covers everything you’ll need to know. It would have been even harder if you decided to also train in ranged combat or to study healing like Sarah. Stick with what I tell you, and if all goes well, you might be able to finish your studies in two and a half years. Of course, your level will not be the same as your peers, but at least your knowledge will be. And at the end of the day, that’s what’s important. After all, we never prevented someone from graduating because of their level.”

“So…” Sam said, “and I’m just wondering out loud. Best-case scenario: what will my level be at that point? If I manage to graduate in two and a half years?”

Dan took the question to heart and stopped his walking for a moment to ponder. “Hard to know without seeing your rate of progress first. My hope? Level three, or close to it at the very least.”

“Great, sound good to me.” I’m fucked.

“It any case, levels can be made up in time. What matters most is to build your strength on a good foundation of knowledge, skill and experience. You’ll learn the first two here. I’ll make sure of it.” Sam nodded along to Dan’s lecture, while trying to keep the fear from showing on his face. Web-Web said that it’s five years before I need to become a Ruler, and that I’ll also not need to do anything out of the ordinary. How does that compute if I’ll only make it, barely, to level 3 in half that time? Huh, Web-Web?! Oh right, they can’t hear me. I keep forgetting that.

While he was deep in self-contemplation, Dan kept his reassuring speech going. He was now telling Sam that his handicap of now knowing anything about magic could end up being a boon in disguise by granting him a level of critical thinking that was unique to him. Sam was an old hand at thinking himself as special when compared to other people, but he was most used to picturing his uniqueness as manifesting in his negative attributes (in order to not let his perception of himself make him feel superior to other people).

And so, because he didn’t like the direction the conversation started with (level 10 in five years!), and he didn’t like the direction Dan took the conversation now (please, don’t tell me I’m special, it will get to my head), Sam opted to segue the conversation some place else entirely. “How come you’re not carrying your notebook with you today?”

“No need. I will be taking an active part in my interactions with you today. No reason to keep myself occupied if I’m already occupied, yes? Besides, now that my plans for your future are starting to take shape, there is much less reason for me to worry.”

“So did you really end up using what you wrote down in order to… make your plans for me?”

“I… Yes. It did come in handy. Once or twice.”

“How?”

Dan cleared his throat. “Looking back on what you said helped me… understand you a little better. But don’t worry about that. I write to calm myself down; minutes, thoughts, memories… anything that’ll help me face the fact that there’s something I must do that I can’t quite take an active part in… doing.”

“So writing calms you down? That’s… cool. Good for you.” Dan smiled as though he truly hadn’t heard the doubt lacing Sam’s voice. And maybe he didn’t. Maybe Sam’s voice was bereft of doubt, being guided by his subconscious mind that realized how hypocritical it was of Sam to judge someone else for… practically anything. Besides, it’s not like I never wrote for reasons of mental health, right? Oh shit, I just realized that my journal word document is probably lost forever… Oh well. That’s what? Four, five hundred pages that will never see the light of day ever again? Fucking hell.

By that point, they had finally made their way to the mess hall, which, for some reason, wasn’t the one closest to Sam’s dorm. Judging by the people he saw coming in and out of the building, this one seemed to be mainly catering to the academy’s staff. There were still plenty of students, but they were by far in the minority. “This is the administrative side of campus,” Dan explained when questioned by Sam. “It’s also closest to the parking lot and staff apartments... Don’t worry, there isn’t anything different about the food, it’s the same everywhere. I just thought that since we’ll be starting that day around here, that it’ll be better to eat breakfast here. Plus, less noisy compared to the others at this hour.”

“Sure. So when does the school day actually start?”

“It depends… for most students on most days, I’d say that their first class is at nine. But there are plenty of classes that start at eight, seven, or even six in the morning, and most student will wake up a couple of hours before their first class of the day. But, statistically, we know that the time the other mess halls will be most busy in the morning is at eight.”

Dan kept him company and followed Sam as he went around piling food on his plate. He really wasn’t used to having so much food available at morning times. Sam was very much the opposite of a breakfast person, preferring to eat lightly at first, then light to medium or nothing (depending on his current view of his own weight and hunger at the time) at lunch, followed by a proper meal at dinner. And while he knew that having the heaviest meal of the day as the last one was not considered the healthiest option by dietitians, he never cared enough about it in order to change a habit that was so deeply ingrained in him.

Despite that, in the last two days, he’s been eating like a pig at every meal that was offered to him. Which was five meals overall that each could have taken the place of his dinner in his previous life. When he raised these worries to Dan, the administrator (or was it now teacher?), just assured him that he’ll be seeing a nutritionist today and for now to eat what and as much as he wanted.

Taking his teacher’s words to heart, Sam heaped as much food as his stomach seemed to want on his plate, and then followed Dan as he led them to a two person table. All the while, Sam couldn’t help noticing the frequent glances thrown their way by some of the room’s occupants. Both staff and students alike seemed equally keen to observe the pair of them, and if Sam had to guess, he wasn’t the reason for all the hubbub.

“You famous or something?” he asked Dan as they both sat down to eat.

“Hmm?” Dan murmured while keeping his focus on the plate in front of him.

“Half the people in this room look at us like we’re two hot things, and unless I suddenly became famous in the span of a single day, I’m betting they’re looking at you.”

Dan didn’t look up. “You did become famous in the span of a single day. You sure they aren’t looking at you?”

“Pretty sure. Besides, how would they know who I am? Face it, mate, they’re looking at you. Does this have anything to do with you being back from the front that Sarah asked you about?”

“Who knows? Oh… alright. I concede that they might be looking at me. I do posses some fame, or perhaps I should say infamy, on campus. However, by the time news of you start spreading around, I’m sure that everywhere we go people will be looking only at you.”

“Can’t wait for that. So, how come you’re so infamous? If you pardon my asking.”

“Good question. I’ve pondered that very inquiry for a long time myself…” Dan nodded his head and held his chin in his hand. He kept the show going for a couple more seconds before finally spilling the beans. “If I had to give one reason, it’d be on account of me being level 10 for a… long stretch of time already, shall we say.”

Sam raised an eyebrow in both surprise and confusion. He found it hard to believe that the graying little man sitting in front of him was level 10. Which was pretty weird because it’s not like he had any idea what a level 10 was like. “Why does that make you so famous? I thought there’ll be plenty of level 10s that don’t make it to Ruler.”

“Oh, there are. Sure, on average, we Terrans have less than other races. But that still leaves plenty of us who are stuck on the precipice just like me. The difference between me and them, however, is, in my opinion, expectation. For there are those that spent just as much time as me, if not more, at level 10. But all those people also made it to level 10 much later than I did. You can see where I’m going with this, right? I got to level 10 relatively early. An illustrious career as a Ruler was waiting for me and expected by all. But, to everyone’s disappointment, I never made another step forward.”

“That… sucks. Sorry about that, mate. Must be shit having everyone looking at you like that.”

“Oh, don’t be. I’ve made my peace with it quite some time ago. And I assure you, no one is looking at me with derision or anything resembling it.”

“Gotcha… So, we’re not going to have the trope of the ridiculed and looked down upon old mentor who takes on the talented young buck and trains him to become the next heavyweight champion?”

“No, because I’m not old.”

“Hmm…” Sam made a high pitch noise while contorting his face. “OK, I’ll give you the not old part. Just please tell me ahead of time if you have some rival from your teens who had made it to Ruler, and he’s training his son who just so happens to be at my age.”

“No son. Will a daughter do?”

“No good. No one will take a female rival seriously. And also, as an alpha male, I will never hit a woman that is not a part of my domestic unit.” Sam was fork was stopped midway to his mouth by Dan, giving him a very apprehensive look. “I’m joking, I’m joking. I’ll have you know that when I grew up, it was at the time when they still tried to educate you to never hit a girl. And I never went along with that sexist bullshit. Ever since I was young, I was an equal opportunity assaulter; I always believed that if a person deserved a smackdown or, god forbid, they were infringing on your bodily autonomy, then that person’s gender didn’t matter.”

“So am I to assume you’re going to go around picking fights with people?” Dan asked him with an amused smile.

“Probably not. I’ve solved most of my anger management issues all the way back when I was thirteen—no, fourteen. And the fact that I’m whole again probably won’t change me back to who I was. Plus, the chance of me getting my ass kicked if I pick a fight with someone is pretty good, considering I’m like twelve years old by your standards.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. A good enough physical and combat skill will allow you to triumph above someone at level 2 or 3 even. As long as usage of magic is not allowed.”

“And what if it is?”

“Then, without any magic of your own, you’re going to have a much harder time. But don’t worry about it, all magical duels are strictly monitored by staff and besides, duels are only allowed for pedagogic reason, not personal.”

“Yeah, I’m not worried about that, I can assure you.” The conversation lulled into silence at that point as they both focused on finishing the remainder of their meals. Still, a worry gnawed at Sam’s mind that he just couldn’t get rid of. It had grabbed hold of one of his many insecurities and any effort to do away with it by self-introspection only, just served to let it burrow further down into his anxious mind. Finally, he couldn’t hold himself back and asked Dan, “How come you can’t make it to level 10? If it’s alright with you me asking.”

“Are you afraid that I might teach you something wrong? Prevent you from becoming a Ruler?”

Sam gulped. “That’s a pretty shitty thing to think and ask. Fuck I’m sor—”

Dan smiled. “No, don’t be, it’s alright. Felix asked me the very same thing when we met. And I’ll tell you the same thing I told him: Nothing that I’ll teach you has anything to do with becoming a Ruler. In fact, everything that I will teach is also taught and accepted as true knowledge by every other educational institution in the Web. My problem with becoming a Ruler is mine, and mine alone. And the only reason that I keep it to myself is not to influence your thoughts when you’re still learning the basics. Besides, and this I didn’t tell him, you of all people shouldn’t have to worry about becoming a Ruler. This I can assure you, if you make it to level 10, you’re one-hundred percent going to become a Ruler.”