“Jesus Christ,” Sam said once outside, hands shielding his eyes. “The sun’s still up? Feels like I’ve been there a lifetime.”

“Only a few hours, I assure you,” Dan said. “Come on now, no reason to dawdle. I’m sure you’d much rather be doing this in an air-conditioned space than outside.”

“Depends on what it is that we are doing. Incidentally, what—”

“Finishing the introduction to the foundations of magic that you got on your first day here. Making sure that you have the adequate theoretical framework to start your practical studies the moment you are able to.”

“Oh. Alright then, let’s get to it.”

Sam once again began his most common acts of the last few days: following another person some place as though he was an unruly six-years old. He clenched his fist in irritation at himself. Like hell was he going to be the guy who got annoyed at people worrying for him and trying to cater to his every moment. Still, he couldn’t help beginning to feel fed up by people always fretting around him.

I mean, I have two legs again, don’t I? What more do you want from me? Can’t leave me alone for one second? Ooh… yeah, I see what’s going on here. It’s the legs again, the bastards. What’s happening here, and please forgive me for the self-analysis, is that I’ve finally regained my ability to be completely independent, but I’m frustrated because I’ve yet to be able to express it. Sam nodded his head sagely. Still, when the stage you’re playing at pertains to the fate of the entire world, which one of us can be counted as being truly independent? No one, that’s who. I should make sure to remember that. Hopefully internalizing it will prevent me from acting out like a little bitch.

Seeing as Dan wasn’t inclined to engage him in small talk. Sam felt comfortable getting out his phone to check the time (because he forgot to take the watch—Sarah insisted he buy—when leaving his room in the morning). Lo-and-behold, it was indeed only a couple of hours after lunchtime. I thought time was supposed to move faster when you’re older. He then noticed that he got some new messages.

The first one from Sarah read: “hey, how was training?”

“I won’t make it to your workout tonight.” Sam opted to rip the band-aid straight out.

“That bad huh?”

“My whole body is in pain. And that was just the way I woke up today. Don’t even ask me how I feel now.”

“How do you feel now?”

“Pretty bad. I lied. I actually woke up surprisingly in not that bad a condition. Our level 8 friend, Lin Jingway, fixed that very quickly.”

She sent him a sad smiley face. “So Dan decided to train you with a spear then? Makes sense, the spear is the easiest weapon to pick up. And Lin is one of the best marital fighters teaching here period, so that makes the choice even easier if he’s free to tutor you.”

“The next person who lectures me about how the spear is the best weapon for me is getting a two-hour lecture about my now forgotten love for two-handed swords.”

“Alright, we’ll just have to make our next work out longer than two hours!”

“No! I take it back. I apologize.”

“I’ll think about it. Besides that, how did the training itself go? Did you enjoy it? Must be fun ‘fighting’ for the first time in your life.”

“Well A, it wasn’t the first time because, as I’ve told Lin, I was in a fencing class when I was but a teen. Also, and this I didn’t tell Lin, because I’ve managed to repress it until just now when it burst out again, but I was also an easily enraged kid, which coupled with my then lacking social skills, made me a prime target for physical bullying. I was known as the ‘always seeing red bull’ back in elementary school.”

“Really?”

“No. The last part is a straight up fabrication and besides, I think my picture of those school days is a bit more negative than it really was. Plus, completely absolving me of any blame, which I shouldn’t accept as a proud Catholic cause I haven't paid anyone to do so. But I’m pretty sure that I did end up getting into a couple of fights. Nothing too serious though, mind you. I was, and still am, very afraid of upsetting the social order and receiving punishment from an institutionalized source of authority.”

“Still, I’m sorry to hear that.” She followed with a heart. “So what was the second thing?”

“Come again?”

“I asked you if you had fun with combat training and you said A, that it wasn’t the first time and so on, so what was the second thing?”

Sam was caught unaware with his mouth, or in this case hands, once again running ahead of him. Scrolling up in the chain, he retraced the conversation’s steps in order to remember what he wanted to say. “Oh! Right, I remember now. B. no it wasn’t fun, because it involved me being in serious physical pain as a result of possessing this underdeveloped body. Even if there was ‘fun’, as you said, to be had, it was hidden beneath layers and layers of aching muscles.”

“So what you’re saying is that you want to exercise even harder in order to be able to enjoy combat training faster?”

“Never put anything in my mouth that isn’t a sweet pastry. Oh, I also wanted to ask you. Dan said that you’ll be in charge of my workout regimen for the time being. Care to confirm?”

“Yeah, he asked for my help, but I was already planning to do that anyway. Why?”

“Well, I’m just not sure how I feel about you picking up this extra burden in order to help me. And it’s not like I won’t know how to exercise on my own.”

“It sounds to me like you don’t want my help…”

“It’s not that I don’t want your help. Quite the opposite, in fact, I’d love to get your help. It’s you helping me that I don’t like.”

“You wrote that confusing on purpose.”

“Not true. I think. You can’t really know what goes on inside my brain. But, what I meant is that while I’d love to have you help me, I don’t like the idea of you spending more of your free time in order to help me all the time.”

“lol. What, do you think I’m just going to watch you while doing nothing? I’m going to spend that time working out as well.”

“You get what I mean. Even if you do make use of that time, that’s still some time that you could’ve used for something else.”

“Yeah. For working out with my friends. Look, I gotta go, if you still want to, we’ll talk about this more at dinner.”

Sam sent a thumbs up. But before he could put the phone back down, he remembered that there was still another unread message, this one from an unknown number. Who can it be now? Oh! That’s another song to add.

The second message read: “Hey Sam! I heard from Dan that the elves have already agreed to send you a teacher for the whole Thread-Weaver business. They also told him that you shouldn’t be learning anything about threads until you’re level 1 at least. So that’s the final final nail in the coffin for your chances to get private lessons from me. Now, now, don’t fret too much. I’m sure that there will be other opportunities for the two of us to become best pals later on. Keep your chin up and good luck in your studies!”

Unless I’m mistaken, that must be from Esther. What ‘unless?!’ Why the fuck would I be mistaken? That’s obviously from her. Guess I have to add her to my contact list now. I mean, what kind of person just sends another person a message for the first time and doesn’t write who’s it from? A normal, non-obsessive person that doesn’t suffer from social anxiety, probably. And what’s that about a teacher? He wondered and looked at Dan, who was walking silently ahead of him. His other private teacher seemed to be in deep thought, and it took him a couple of seconds to notice Sam staring at him.

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“Hmm… oh Sam, yes. We’re almost there, don’t worry.”

Sam tilted his face. Did he look worried? “Nah, I’m fine, it’s not that. It’s just that Esther, I’m pretty sure it was her at least, she sent me a message about how our chances for ‘time together’ are definitely nil cause the elves are apparently sending a teacher for me. That wasn’t really a question, but you get the gist.”

Dan nodded and veered off from the road towards a building on their left. “Oh. I didn’t know she had time to send you a message. I just informed her about it before I came to pick you up—”

“Please don’t say it like that. It sounds like I’m back in kindergarten and you’re my mom, explaining to me why she’s late again.”

Dan reclined his head in agreement and stepped through the open door into what was perhaps the smallest building Sam had seen on campus as of yet. “My office is on the second floor,” he said. “Would you mind waiting for my explanation until we’re both seated and drinking some tea? On that note, would you like some tea?”

Sam looked at the man as though he had just turned insane. “No… no tea. Do you have anything cold?”

“No, but there is a vending machine here somewhere. There’s also water in my office, if you prefer it.”

“Yeah, I think that’s for the best,” answered Sam, who was trying to banish the thoughts of going to town on a bath filled with Oreo milkshake from his head. “Just got this new body of mine. Wouldn’t want to ruin it after only a couple of days.”

“I applaud you for your temperance. But just remember that there is some allowance for soft drinks, and all other matters of empty calories, in your new diet. And here we are,” Dan said and grabbed hold of the door handle, clenching it tightly. He held it for a couple seconds more before Sam thought he saw a flash of light on the handle and Dan finally pushed it open. “Magical lock,” Dan said without looking back, as though that was a perfectly reasonable explanation.

Dan’s office was huge, with a large window at the opposite end of the room, serving as the backdrop for an almost equally large table. The walls were lined with pricey looking bookshelves that were half filled with books and half filled with documents. In the middle of the room was a large wooden table with a glass top surrounded by five comfy looking armchairs. There was even a fridge, a sink and a kettle on a kitchen cupboard near the desk. “Nice place,” Sam said before he even had enough time to take it all in.

“Hmm? Oh yes, the office. Thank you. I don’t have much use for all the space most days, but it comes as a requirement for the job. Take a seat. I’ll just go make myself some tea before we start. Oh, and a glass of water for you, I almost forgot.”

“Thanks, mind if I also fill my bottle while you’re at it?” Sam asked, taking his empty bottle out of the bag.

“Nonsense. You’re a guest. I’ll do that for you.” He grabbed the bottle out of Sam’s hands.

Dismissed, Sam had no recourse but to rest on one of the chairs as indicated to him. A great feeling of reliefs passed over him a moment later as he noticed cold air starting to flow around the room. He leaned back on the sit and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the kettle boiling and the water running. What do you know, kettles still work the same way. Now that’s a sound that’s sure to be gone in the future. Enjoy it while you can kids, because sooner or later you’re gonna wake up in a world where everything is made up of old iconographic references whose original form no longer exists.

Jesus… How the hell did I get on this topic all of a sudden? Oh, yeah… the icons on my phone. I’ll have to note that down for later as a possible topic for a joke. Wait, no, people have definitely made that joke before. But wait a minute! People in the past made that joke, but people in the present might not be aware of them at all. It’s not stealing if it’s an idea that no one alive still remembers.

“Hey Dan,” he called to the man who was in the middle of pouring hot water into a ceramic cup, “just a quick question. Nothing too important, but it popped into my head. Do you know the reason why the phone icon looks the way it is?”

“I think so. It’s because the first phones ever made looked like that, no? Why are you asking?”

“No reason, was just suddenly curious, like I said.” So does that mean the joke can work? Or is it the opposite? I sort of forgot what I was aiming for there.

“Here you go,” Dan brought him out of contemplation by handing him a glass of water filled with ice and his bottle back. “So was I right?” he asked, while sitting down.

Sam was distracted, putting his bottle back in his backpack. “About what?”

“The origin of the phone icon.”

“Oh that. Sorry… You’re not exactly right, especially if we take the difference between a phone and a telephone into consideration, but close enough, I suppose. I just wondered if this sort of esoteric knowledge was lost to the world amidst the passage of time and the onslaught of the apocalypse.”

Dan took a sip of his steaming hot drink without nary a blink nor breath blown. “I don’t know if I would consider something like that esoteric knowledge,” he said without showing a sign of discomfort at having just imbibed Prometheus’ cursed gift into his own body. “Besides, as far as I know, there wasn’t a lot of modern knowledge that was lost. Most things digital, at least, are probably saved somewhere on the internet.”

“Interesting… Everything you say, even… the over eighteen stuff?”

“Don’t see why not. You’re talking about porn, right? That’s pretty much the only thing I know of that has an age restriction of eighteen. Well, that and the military.”

“I was indeed alluding to porn, but that was mostly for the comedic effect. My own worries were more for televised audio-visual products. For example: Now that I’m going to be a military man, I will have to rewatch M.A.S.H in order to better appreciate the humor. Minus all the, appropriate at the time of airing, bigotry of course.”

“I’m not personally familiar with that show, but if it was online before, then I’m sure it still is somewhere.”

“Oh man, you don’t know—Nah, doesn’t matter, we have more important stuff to discuss. Also, the message would probably not cut as deep now that the only war you’re familiar with is a completely morally correct one with good and evil easily separated into two teams. I do want to ask you one more thing before we turn our minds to business, however. You said that only porn and the military are eighteen plus, right? What, is everything else as allowed as in Sodom and Gomorrah?”

“Sex work and porn, yes. Maybe gambling as well, but I’m not sure about that. But for everything else that has an age restriction; it’s sixteen. You can drive at sixteen, work at sixteen, vote at—”

“Wait a minute! You’re letting the teenagers vote? How will certain political groups disillusion them with the democratic process now that they have two extra years of being a viable electoral block while still under the influence of authority figures employed and subjected to standards by the liberal democratic state?”

Thankfully, before Sam could further drag the conversation sideways by opening a very complex can of worms, Dan shrugged and said, “After the war, there were plenty of people younger than eighteen that felt that they should have a say about the new government that was slowly forming. Sixteen was the compromise reached and written into the constitution. I’m not well versed in politics, so that’s as far as I know. But I don’t think that we’ve had any problems from the lower voting age.”

“You’re still young… Just wait a couple of decades when you’re older. And then come back to me and tell me that you’re fine with this new generation of children shaping the fate of the country they’re living in. Now.” He shamelessly cleared his throat. “All this sidetracking is nice and all, but we really must get back to the reason why we’ve gathered here today, Mr. Ritter, if you will?”

Dan looked away from him, down to his cup, and then back at him. “Gladly. And what would that reason be?” He took another sip.

“The elves, man, the elves! The whole Thread-Weaver teacher thing that Esther messaged me about.”

“Indeed.” Dan smiled. “Well, there’s not much to tell. We had a meeting scheduled in a couple of weeks with our counterparts at the Sarechi Royal Academy. Us representing the entire institution of the Terran military education and them… not so much. Doesn’t matter to you anyway, so don’t worry about it. I requested that we push forward the meeting so we could also discuss your circumstances.”

“Was it before or after you spoke to that Farris guy?”

“Ahem… After, it was after.”

“So that talk didn’t go anywhere, then?”

“Well… At the time he told me that he would look into it, pass along your information and whatnot, but that meanwhile I should go through the proper channels. Anyway, I figured that he must’ve done something because otherwise, the elves would never have agreed to advance the date of the meeting with only a day’s notice.”

“So… did the information you passed along to him happen to include the minutes from two days ago?”

“It did.”

“Damn… and he decided to help me in spite of that?”

Dan coughed and turned away to clear his throat before taking a sip of his drink. “Yes well… Whatever the case may be, the elves were still giving us trouble. They said that teaching a ‘child’ about threads is not something to be done lightly. That a single mistake can cost a person their future as a fighter or even their lives. A lot more bullshit about how there’s a reason why we send all of our Thread-Weaver to study with them and so on… I must admit, I got a little angry at that point; you’d have to have pretty thick skin in order not to be affected by all the deliberate pauses and pointed glances they threw at me due to my own… circumstances with threads.

“But I digress. Halfway through our meeting, they seemed to reconsider their initial stance. They told us that they were going to… check some things and that we should come back to you in the end. A big waste of my time, but it’s not like I could step out for the duration. I promised the superintendent to be there as a show of strength in order to get her to request the meeting’s advance.”

“Damn, didn’t know you worked so hard as my advocate,” Sam said before taking a sip to cool his warming head.

Dan waved his hands in dismissal. “Nothing more and nothing less than I would have done for any of my other charges, I assure you. Besides, it cannot be overstated what a grave strategic error it would be not to supply you with an appropriate education. And the same goes for uprooting you even further from the life you’ve known. You are, after all, all but guaranteed to become Ruler if treated right. The problem, of course, is that we value a new Ruler much more than the elves do. Not to mention the further difference in value as a result of nationalistic differences, which, however small, still remains.”

Sam nodded. They had no reason to think of him as anything special after all. There might only be a few hundred Rulers in the Web, but that was still hundreds of Rulers. One more wouldn’t change the course of the war one way or the other. Sam and his laconic mental guest were the only ones with delusions of grandeur as to Sam’s future prospects. “So what caused them to relent?” Sam asked.

“Farris Ninae did. He joined the meeting near its end; said that he had reviewed your information and that he agreed with my recommendation for you to stay in New Terra.”

“How come the change in heart?”

Dan took a very long sip of his drink. “I don’t know… he didn’t bother explaining himself. Next, he just said that he’ll make sure to send you an appropriate teacher once you’re level 1. Apparently, you have to wait until then to start studying threads… Oh, he also said that after your Awakening, your Threadsight will probably give you trouble so that it’s better to keep your eyes close until it passes. And that was it. He left right after.”

“Well… OK then. Who am I to complain, right? Nice of him to be so agreeable, especially after he threatened to kill me. Guess he didn’t read your minutes after all, huh?” Sam chuckled. Dan averted his eyes and gave a weak smile in return. “You alright there?”

“Yes, of course. It’s just what you said… I was… reminded of the fact that my writing two days ago proved to be of no use. No one likes their time to go to waste, right?”

“But don’t you write for yourself first and foremost? Although, I guess that I can understand your frustration. It’s not like I never wanted the things I did out of habit or compulsion to also have a more practical rule. And hey, who knows? That Farris sounds like a right weirdo. Maybe he did read what you wrote, and that actually helped clinch his decision.”

Dan finished the rest of his cup in one gulp. “Maybe,” he said hoarsely before getting up to refill himself another.