It was his last workout of the week, and Sam’s psyche was filled with triumphal joy. He did it. He managed to make it through the whole week, fully following Sarah’s new routine. Six days of the torturous and will testing regimen were behind him. The next week was bound to be easier. Both on his body and on his mind. At least that’s what he told himself as he struggled with the penultimate plank of the workout. When it came the last one’s turn, his mind turned to visions of hot showers followed by nestling his butt into a cushioned sit. This vision was, in turn, replaced during his stretching by the stark reminder of the fact that physical activity awaited him tomorrow as well.
And while his lessons with Lin did not carry an increased physical burden, they also did not lessen in theirs like Sarah said she and Lin agreed to if it might be necessary in order to facilitate Sam’s acclimation to the new routine. Instead, they carried on just as before. Only this week, equal time was allocated to training in thrusting, stabbing, and footwork each. True, the current composition did result in a lesson that was less physically demanding on Sam’s body than some of his past lessons with Lin. And true, Sam was the one that didn’t raise the possibility of taking it easier on himself to Lin. But neither of those truths had any effect on the truth value of a third, also truthful statement. Sam was still going to complain about this state of affairs. Inwardly, at least. He had enough of complaining to his friends about his sore body and mentally stretched mind.
No, he thought as he got up with a groan and made his way towards the showers. Now is the time for rejoicing. We’ll finish this week on a strong note. No bellyaching of any kind.
And he would’ve gotten away with keeping true to his promise if it wasn’t for a call that came just as he and Yvessa finished with breakfast the following day. “Hello?” he answered the private number.
“Sam Anders?” came a direct and professional voice, although Sam thought that he could sense a faint tremor in it.
“The one, and fortunately only. Who is this, and how may I help?”
“I’m from Web Communication here on campus. You have an urgent, non-emergency call from… General Farris Ninae in Maynil. Am I to tell him you are on your way?”
“Ugh… yeah, sure. I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you.”
The call disconnected, and Sam started dumbly at Yvessa. “What?” she asked. “Who was it?”
“Some guy from… Web Communication? Is that a real thing?”
“Yeah. It’s where I where I call back home every second Monday. So who’s calling you?”
“Farris.”
“Right, that makes sense. Come on, I’ll show you where it is.”
Sam got up to follow her. “Sure that you’ve got the time? I mean, you’ve already been helping me with elven history.”
She snorted. “Helping is too big a word for what this was.”
Sam shrugged. He thought the same as her, but he wasn’t going to verbally downplay her using her own time for his sake. Even if her “help” was just meeting with him for breakfast and using that time to go over some of what Sam read in the textbooks during the last two weeks. “If you’re sure.”
She nodded as she led him out of the mess hall. “So did they tell you what the call was about?”
“Just that it was urgent but non-emergency, whatever that means.”
“It means that it’s not really urgent. Farris’ rank makes all of his calls urgent by default; highest priority.”
“What does highest priority entail?”
“That he can keep the connection going for as long as he wants, even if it prevents other pre-scheduled calls from taking place. That they’ll cut off another call for his. Although they probably won’t do that if his call is not actually an emergency. But they will definitely move his to first in the queue.”
“There’s a queue?”
“Depending on the day and on the time of day. And most importantly, the place. For example, while the facility here on campus is pretty small, only six lines, because there’s not much call for inter-world communication, I’ve never seen them full.”
“Six lines? That’s it?”
“Maintaining even a single line is pretty expensive.”
“Really? How exactly does it work that makes it so expensive?”
Yvessa furrowed her brows and tilted her head before muttering, “Ah. Right, you’ve never seen it before. It’s not something… technological. We’re not calling anyone on the phone or the internet or anything. It’s built using a very complex to create and maintain formation. And the only role of the formation here on campus is to connect to the major formation in Transit, where the actual communication with other worlds takes place.”
Sam scratched his head. “Oh, so it’s magic. Should’ve figured out that’d be like that. Good to know that’s the kind of stuff formations are used for…”
The academy only had two mandatory courses on formations—to contrast with the nine on patterns—and both of them were way off in the third year. Even though he understood Dan’s basic explanation of what formations were: Any combination of patterns linked together for a common function and imprinted on inorganic material. Basically, they all artifacts were made with formations, but not all formations were artifacts usually static. Which didn’t really help Sam understand what formations were, because he still didn’t really understand what artifacts were.
“Formations can be used for a lot of things,” Yvessa said. “At the end of the day, they’re just patterns working in unison to execute a certain effect or effects. So they can, for example, be used for everything that a pattern is used for.”
“Yeah… I still don’t really know a whole lot about what patterns are used for, you know?”
“Then you don’t need to worry even a little bit about formations. Especially not like those used for inter-world communication. Both of them, the one here on campus and in Transit, are of Reshan make. So they’re way more complex than your average formation. Basically, the only thing we know about them is how to replicate and maintain them. And the only reason for that is the Reshan explicitly wrote us instructions on how to do that.”
“Ah… the Reshan again. Bastards got their grubby hands in everything, I see.”
“You’re adopting Sarah’s distaste for them?” Yvessa chuckled. “Imprinting yourself after her?”
“Nah, I just call it as I see it.” And I have my own prejudices to guide me in hating on the Reshan, thank you very much. “So why not just call off-world via a video call or something, though? Way I understood it, is that the internet is pretty much the same for everyone.”
“It is the same, sure, but the internet is still widely seen as Terran. Elves use the internet the most after us, but still not anywhere near as much as we do. I think that only about two-fifths of all people on Larsus use it daily, to show you the difference. But the main reasons for digital methods not replacing the formations are security concerns and lag.”
“Lag? With the portals, the cable distance between Transit and Larsus can’t be that large.”
“I don’t know anything about that. But it’s the portals themselves that cause a delay.”
“Why? I thought the teleportation was instantaneous.”
She shrugged. “Don’t know. I don’t think anyone figured that one out yet. And it’s not like we really understand how the portals even work.”
“Rulers do, surely. If they can open their own exit portal everywhere they want.”
“I suppose so… But not all of them, I assure you. There’s plenty of… theory-dumb Rulers out there.”
“People that lucked out, then? Like Thread-Weavers?” Sam smiled.
“Are you poking fun at you or at Farris?”
“I was thinking of me. Farris doesn’t strike me as the type to forgo deeper understand of his abilities.”
“He isn’t. And you don’t strike me as one either.”
“That’s nice of you to say, but you should probably wait until I actually have any abilities to understand. Not that I’m complaining about anything, mind you. I’m just stating a fact. Not passing judgment upon it.”
“Right… you’re still on that.”
“Correct, all the way until tomorrow.”
“And all that moaning you just did fifteen minutes ago, about the Appalith Civil War, wasn’t complaining?”
“I should think not! First, because even if I was complaining, it wasn’t to do with anything about my personal conduct and life, which was really the type of complaining I forswore yesterday. But more important, I don’t think I was complaining at all. I was just pointing out the fact that the historical event proceeding the fall of the Later Appalith Empire didn’t deserve the moniker ‘civil war.’ Way too civil—”
“‘Not enough war.’ I remember. We were just talking about that.”
“I rest my case.” He spread his hands forward.
“I still think that it counts as complaining.”
“Maybe slightly. I’ll grant you that it was a minor grumble.”
“A minor grumble? And where does that term slot into your terminology of whether one is acting like a little bitch or a regular bitch?”
“Lesser than even a little bitch. One encounters out in the world a state of things with which one isn’t happy with. But one doesn’t care all that much about it or about changing it, and one just wants to point out that the state of affairs isn’t correct. Also, very well done on remembering my bullshit after all this time… That’s way more commitment to talking what I say seriously than I’m used to.”
“Hard to forget when it’s one of the very first things you said to me.”
“Hmm… is that so? It’s funny, but I’m thinking of my past-life relationships, trying to remember what the first thing I or the other person said to me, and I can’t really recall.”
“Can you recall the first thing I said to you when we first met?”
“No…?”
“Maybe that’s cause for self-introspection.” She pursed her lips.
“Wait a moment… didn’t you say something in Sarechi that I couldn’t understand yet at the time?”
“Who knows…”
“You do! And so do I, now. And, yeah, you did definitely did.”
“You’re not complaining about anything, are you?”
“No. I think that if there’s one of us who gets to complain about the other’s conduct during the first day of our acquaintanceship, it’s not me.”
“Nicely said.”
“Thank you. My social graces have come a long way in these last two weeks. I’m practically almost a bearable person now. And speaking of coming a long way…”
“We’re almost there. It’s the building over there.” She pointed towards a fenced perimeter, guarding—and being actively guarded by fatigues wearing soldiers—a structure alien to both the rest of the campus’ architecture and layout. It was only the one floor (the shortest building Sam saw up till today still had two more floors to this one) and from Sam’s point of view it looked like a block of concrete made manifest into a half a circle, so it ended up taking a lot of space while seemingly not capitalizing on much of that space. Its design was a little prettier than just that, though, although not by much, and not anywhere close to the beautiful blend of military utilitarianism and modern high-education institution that all the other buildings on campus sported.
“Why the extra security?” he asked Yvessa, deciding to focus on the only unique aspect of the building that actually interested him.
“The Web Communications unit is technically not under the academy’s jurisdiction, so not under the purview of campus security as well. That’s the bureaucratic explanation, which in my opinion is the main reason. But, if you want the official reasoning, it’s pretty much just that the formations are important enough that they deserve their own guard.”
“That latter reason sounds like bullshit. That one building is worth more than a couple of thousands of the Terran Republic’s best and brightest?”
“Exactly… So, what do you think Farris wants to talk to you about?”
Sam shook his head. “I have no idea. You’ve got just as much chance as me of guessing correctly, maybe even more. Want to come in with me and find out?”
“I wasn’t invited.”
“C’mon, it’s Farris. The dude’ll probably appreciate having a larger audience. Worst-case scenario, he’ll just shoo you off once he sees you.”
“Worst case? I think Farris’ attitude towards you has given you a skewed impression of the man and the military hierarchy he represents.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, just as they were approached by one of the guards.
“Name?” she asked the two of them.
“Sam Anders and Yvessa Smith. I… got a call?”
The guard looked back to the lieutenant on duty, who nodded. “Alright, you can go in.”
Once of earshot, Sam turned to Yvessa. “Weird security measure, no? They ask our names but don’t check our IDs for confirmations.”
“They checked our faces. Probably had no no need for the software, with how regularly I come here and how famous yours has been of late.”
“Ugh… don’t remind me. Weren’t you the one who said that it wasn’t that big of a deal?”
“It isn’t. I was just joking right now. They probably just recognized me and had a picture of you already up on the screen, to usher you in the moment you got here.”
“Hm… neat. So, you coming with me, after all?”
She sighed. “I might as well, if I already accompanied you all this way. Make sure that you represent the republic well in front of Farris.”
“A bit too late for that, don’t you think?”
“Of course. But that’s the excuse I’m going with.”
Inside the building, they found themselves in a rather small waiting room and reception area. Only twelve sits, all of them were currently empty. “A little on the small side, no?” Sam whispered to Yvessa.
“The calls are almost always by appointment, and they’re very strict on time—for most people—no much reason to be sitting and waiting.”
Before they even made it to the receptionist, a major came rushing in through one of the side doors and intercepted them. He nodded to Yvessa, evidently in recognition, before turning to Sam. “This way please, Mr. Anders. I’ll show you to your room.”
Sam tilted his head at Yvessa in question. “Room?”
“You’ll see.”
He shrugged and followed the major through the double doors at the back of the reception area and into a half circular empty hall with six doors at equal intervals from one another. They followed the major to the rightmost one. “It’ll only take us twenty seconds or so to reconnect the call,” the major said as the door closed behind them, leaving them alone in a room even emptier than the hall they just left.
Sam looked around in confusion. The walls and floor were devoid of any color or pattern. “That’s it? Where are all the formations?” he asked Yvessa.
“Underground. The call rooms are made to look as uniform and sterile as possible.”
“Well they did a bang-up job. So how does this work? Do we just—”
Without even a flash of light to signify that anything magical had happened, something magical had happened. Farris appeared before them, hands clasped beneath his chin and sitting behind a beautifully carved (such that even Sam could recognize its aesthetic value) wooden desk. Besides Farris, the rest of the image appeared… blurry. Sam was barely able to discern that the silhouette on the right side of the desk was a computer monitor, but he couldn’t even get the sense of what color the walls behind Farris were.
His mentor himself, though, was coming through crystal clear. With bright eyes and mouth curving upwards, the quintessential Farris smile. “My my,” he said, “if I knew this was an order one get one free type of deal, I would’ve ordered two of you so that I could get the entire set of the Prodigious Young Terrans Collection.”
“Yvessa was helping me with my studies when your call came through. And she offered to show me the way here. So I figured that if she already came all the way here, then she might as well pop in to say hello and make sure that I don’t say anything that could cause a diplomatic incident.”
“Hmm… a bit late for that, don’t you think?”
“Of course. That was just the excuse I used to convince her. The real reason is that I want her to stay so that she could accompany back to my dorm.”
Yvessa raised an eyebrow. “That seems unfair. Why can’t you accompany me to my dorm instead?”
“Yours doesn’t seem to me as efficient an act as the other way. What with me being a utility monster and all. But we can talk about that later, alright? After all, we’re on the clock, aren’t we?”
“I’m on the clock,” Farris said. “You can rest worry free knowing that I can keep this call going for as long as I want to.”
“And how long is that?”
“That depends on you. And Yvessa, I guess. Whether you’re here as a participant or strictly as an observer.”
“That depends on you,” Yvessa said. “What did you want to talk to Sam about?”
“Indeed. I assume that in the case I was calling just to talk about Terran history, that you will up and leave?”
“You assume correctly.”
“Fear not then. This is a professional call first and foremost. And you’re more than free to either observe or participate in it, if you wish. As long as Sam is comfortable with you being here, of course.”
Sam shrugged. “I can’t think of a single thing that I will be comfortable talking to you about, but uncomfortable talking to Yvessa. Also, can we get this over with? I feel weird standing here talking to you while you’re sitting there all smug like.”
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Farris spread his hands wide. “Then by all means, take a sit.”
“How will that be any better for your smugness?”
“Try it and see, Sam,” Yvessa said, as she sat down with her legs crossed.
Sam followed her example and, once fully seated, looked up from the ground to find himself still at eye level with Farris, as though his floor was the same height as Farris’ chair. No, even higher, seeing as he was staring Farris squarely in the eyes despite Farris being taller than him. “So I’m guessing that this is part of the magic?”
“Rather an easy guess to make,” Farris said, “all considering. And you’d be correct. The inter-world communication formations make it so that the people on opposite sides of the call will always be talking eye to eye.”
Sam turned to the slightly shorter woman sitting next to him. “So you’re seeing him like that as well? Both of our subjective experiences are modified?” She nodded. “Cool. Raising a lot of questions, but cool nonetheless.”
“Indeed,” Farris said. “So, are you ready to get down to business?”
“Yeah—wait, on another thought, I have two more questions about this call thing before we begin.”
“Par for the course. Go a head, then.”
“The snark might be deserving but it’s not necessary at all. For the first question: are we being recorded?”
“No.
“Because—”
“Not just because of me, no. First, if you’re allowed to use this method of communication, then you’re probably not deserving of having your privacy violated. But second and foremost, you can’t record magic. Visually at least. Sound works differently, but I don’t want to get into a whole physics lecture. Let’s just say that the way these formations work, make it so that the only way for someone to record what we talk about is to be here with us and write it down.”
“Alright. Then my second question is, how come you get one of those formations in what I can only assume is your own office? While we have to walk all the way to this empty room?”
Farris sighed lightheartedly. “Now now Sam, how many times have I already told you not to ask me anything about threads?”
Sam groaned. “Fucking hell. So it has something to do with you being a Ruler, got it.” He turned to Yvessa. “Right?”
She nodded. “Yeah, Rulers can… I don’t know, connect to the formation on their own, I guess, so they don’t need to be physically in the room.”
“So that’s what,” Sam asked Farris, “the sixth clue you gave me to what threads are or what you can do with them while at the same time admonishing me for trying to find out more about them?”
“I wouldn’t know.” Farris shrugged. “Keeping count takes all the fun out of it. Anyway, are you finished with your questions? Can we finally move on?”
“I don’t feel it’s right to be the sole person blamed for us not getting to the point. But…” He waved Farris to go ahead.
“Alright. So, first things first, how are you?”
“That’s the first thing, really?”
“What else? As your mentor, your wellbeing is at the top of my concerns. And I need to hear your own answer to that question. I can’t just be satisfied based on the reports Dan sends me.”
“Dan sends you reports?”
“Of course. At the end of every week, so only three so far—I asked him to send today’s early. He’s detailing what you did during the week. How far you progressed, in all aspects, mind you. And his analysis of your behavior and state of mind. Pretty basic stuff, but important for me in order to know where you’re at.”
“Wow. Although… I guess I should’ve expected something like that. From him, at least, if not from you. So what do these reports say about my state of mind?”
“That it’s consistent.”
“Consistent what?”
“Consistent over time. Your behavior hasn’t changed all that much in the last three weeks.”
Sam cleared his throat in exasperation. “OK, but what does that mean?”
“You’re asking me how have you been feeling in these last three weeks?”
“I’m asking you what was Dan’s analysis of how I have been feeling in these last three weeks. And you’re not answering.”
“I wonder why… Oh alright. For all three weeks, Dan concluded that your mental state was stable enough for him to keep engaging you in the same manner that he has been during the preceding week. Read into that what you’d like. What I want to know is how you’re feeling; not how you’re acting when you’re with Dan Ritter or Lin Jingway, and not how much time and effort you’re able to dedicate to your training day in and day out. It’s a simple question, really. Wonder why you keep trying to avoid answering… It doesn’t have anything to do with you having an audience, right?”
“I told you, I can’t think of something that I would be comfortable telling you that I wouldn’t be comfortable telling Yvessa.”
“So this is just you being uncomfortable answering a very simple question in general?”
“Fine… I get it. Overall, Dan’s right. I’m doing fine. Pretty much the same as I was two and a half weeks ago when you and I last talked.”
“That’s not a very satisfactory answer, now is it, Yvessa?”
“Don’t try to involve me in whatever this is,” she said.
Farris shrugged and turned back to Sam. “Sam, we both know that you can be way more expressive if you want to. So how about you slide into that mode of yours and actually try to answer my question? Remember, I’m your mentor. Understanding your state of mind is as important from a professional perspective as it is from a personal one, if not more.”
“Fine… let’s get this over with.” Sam rolled his eyes with a sigh. “So in short, the last week has been really hard because I’ve had to increase my exercises’ difficulty. Luckily, this new body of mine made it so I never really had to contend with aftereffects of that change like I’m used to from my old body. First three days of the week were the hardest, especially Tuesday, which was the reason why I woke up the most sore on Wednesday. But that’s pretty much it. Besides the physical exertion I had during the new workouts, there wasn’t really much hardship to contend with overall.”
“Hm hm… Sounds good so far. Congratulations on making it all the way through this week successfully, by the way. I only learned about the change while I was reading the report this morning, but I immediately knew that you’ll manage no problem. Only had to read a little bit ahead to see that I was right.”
“If you already knew, then why are you asking?”
“Because the report didn’t tell me anything about how you felt about last week, besides the fact that you stepped up to the increased physical burden while keeping up with all your other obligations. But most importantly, because I asked how you’re feeling, and you’re the one that decided to pivot to answering purely on the physical challenges you faced during the last week.”
“Well, those were the main points of difference compared to two weeks ago. I told you, besides that, everything pretty much has been the same.”
“So how about the not physical aspects?”
Sam rubbed his eyes. “Farris, are we really going to do that?”
“You tell me.”
“Alright, alright, I get it. Things have been… tough. The mental weight of my day by day and the requirement of my schedule have started becoming more apparent, but I’m handling it fine. I’m being honest when I tell you that I’m feeling roughly the same as two weeks ago. You’re probably going to need to wait until the magic effects run out if you want a different sort of answer.”
“The only sort of answer I want is you telling me the truth, no matter what it is. But, you’re right, I’m willing to concede that we’ve spent enough time on the subject and that indeed, not much has necessarily changed since we last met. So let’s move on to what has changed, shall we? According to Dan’s reports, your spear lessons are proceeding alright?”
“Is that a question? Did he not put into the report asking me that very same question and me telling him that I have no basis on which to judge my progress with combat lessons?”
“He did put that in, yes. But your answer back then doesn’t have to be your answer right now. You’ve had two more weeks of training. Do you feel an improvement?”
“Yeah… I guess so. I mean, I had to have improved on some level, right? But it’s not like I’m close to knowing how to fight or anything just yet.”
“Fair enough. For what’s it worth, from what I’ve read—Dan Ritter reporting to me on what Lin Jingway is reporting to him—you have nothing to worry about. Besides, knowing how to fight can well enough wait until you’re level 1, at which point you could actually start incorporating some practical magic into your fighting. Yvessa, were you privy to one of Sam’s spearfighting lessons?”
“Only to his complaining about them. Why?”
“Positive reinforcement from multiple sources. I’ve been reading a book on educating young teens with self-confidence issues. And they said it’s very important.”
She rolled her eyes. “You haven’t… have you?”
“He didn’t,” Sam said. “He can’t read.”
Farris nodded. “Also, I’m going to have Sam show me what he learned now, so I was worried about having to put you through the same experience twice on the same day.”
“Wait,” Sam said, “what do you mean, ‘show me?’”
“Exactly what it sounds like.”
“I don’t have a spear here with me!”
“You can mimic holding one, can’t you? Don’t tell me that you’ve spent all this time on footwork without being able to display it on command.”
Sam sighed and got up with an apologizing look at Yvessa. Who, by the smirk on her face, didn’t seem all that deserving of an apology. Farris was right, of course. By this point, Lin had probably had him train two or three hours on just spearless footwork alone. He assumed the resting stance that Lin kept correcting him on; fidgeting even more than usual, for some unknowable reason. Come to think of it, this is the first time I’m taking Lin’s lessons out of our private training room. Well, I couldn’t ask for a more patronizing, yet supportive, audience.
“This is the part where Lin would spend a minute or two correcting my posture and positioning—everything, really—until he deemed me good enough to start.”
“You look OK to me,” Yvessa said, leaning back on her hands.
“There is a difference between OK and good, not to mention the much greater gulf between good and perfect,” Farris told her. “You’re intimately familiar with all three at this point and the importance of striving ever onwards. So even if—unlike Erianna—you’ve never trained with the spear, you’re probably more than capable of correcting Sam on some of his mistakes.”
She rolled her eyes at Farris’ conscious uttering of his disruptive thoughts (and his very fake sobbing and drying of his right eye) before standing up and walking to Sam. “You’re not going to help?” she asked Farris after satisfying herself of the bending of Sam’s knees.
“Having his peers help him study was another tip in the book.”
“What were you planning to do if I showed up here alone?” Sam asked.
“Who said I had any plans for if you showed up by yourself?”
Sam narrowed his eyes at the older Thread-Waverer’s wide, self-satisfied smile. “You couldn’t… you didn’t…”
“He didn’t,” Yvessa said. “He’s just trying to rattle you. It’s a common shtick of his, trying to act like the Silent Seer. Alright, you’re good to go now.”
Sam nodded and started acting out the—well ingrained by this point—simple routine Lin had him go through every session for the last two weeks. He tried not to let himself get too distracted by the fact the other two kept talking! This wouldn’t fly back in his sessions with Lin.
“And how would you know what the Silent Seer acts like?” Farris asked Yvessa with a smile.
Yvessa shrugged. “It’s just a common saying. You’re obviously trying to act like you can read the future. Erianna told me some stuff about threads; even a Ruler like you couldn’t have known that I would be with Sam that I would join him just by threads alone. Especially since you’re—”
“Ah ah… please keep in mind Sam’s fragile condition. As a solid but rough gem, we have to take care while polishing, less he shatters instead of fragments.”
“My god,” Sam muttered between measured breath, “you’re such an asshole.”
“Focus on your footwork please, Sam. Pay nevermind to what we’re talking about. Especially Yvessa’s blatant spoilers of your future lessons. Matter of fact, disregard everything she just said, lest you come away from this conversation thinking I’ve underplayed the capabilities of the sole deshar Chosen when we first met and thus misrepresented your future role.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yvessa asked Farris who just shrugged his shoulders and pointed at Sam, as though he was the one partaking in physical activity that’s best done without talking (although, the other two probably would’ve had no problem talking while showcasing even better footwork than Sam). “Can’t you just tell me? How the hell is Sam supposed to show you what he’s learned if you keep distracting him?”
“Being distracted shouldn’t prevent Sam from showing me what he’s learned. Quite the opposite. It opens to me a whole different angle from which to judge him. Besides, I want to see if he remembers. If our conversations mean as much to him as they do to me.”
Sam barked a laugh and made a very obvious misstep because of that. “He’s talking about his vision for my future or whatever. Me and your best friend, to be more accurate. About how I would be her second in command the same way that what’s her name, the deshar Chosen, is the second in command to his mother.”
“That’s…” Yvessa started, “a very problematic breakdown of the relationship between the Queen Mother and the Silent Seer, let alone the relationship between the kingdom and the Accord as a whole.”
“Your latter point stands, sure,” Farris said. “But so does my description of the relationship between the two Chosen. It might not appear so clear cut from where you’re standing. But I promise you, up here, it is. We in the east have the great benefit of having our Chosen operating under an agreed upon and completely linear hierarchy. My mother is first, next comes Devoha and last but of course not least, Bladestorm himself. The problem is that if you have Sam leaving today thinking that Devoha can know the future, that he’ll have to ask himself how come she’s not at the top of the list.”
“What does that matter to Sam?”
“He just told you. I can’t have him entertaining thoughts that I mean for him to rank higher than Erianna when all is said and done. Not yet, at least.”
Sam grunted. “You’re such a bastard.”
Farris smiled. “Maybe so, but I’m willing to bet that I know exactly what you want to ask me next. Go ahead, then.”
“Can I stop?”
“You did that on purpose. And yes, you can. Ask me your real question. I’ll shower your performance with approval after answering it.”
Sam pursed his lips in annoyance before taking a swig from his bottle. If the me of an hour ago knew that he was going to have to exercise again before tomorrow evening, he would’ve been real mad. “Alright,” he said as he sat back down next to Yvessa, “so if she doesn’t know the future why do they call her ‘a Seer?’ And don’t give me any bull about asking about threads before I’m ready in half a year.”
“Rest assured, you’re just as ready now for the answer I’m willing to give as you would be in half a year, or in ten times that period.” Farris leaned back and looked at the ceiling. “But, I do have a ready-made answer for that question that I’m quite happy about. Want to hear it?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Of course. You can turn to you left and ask Yvessa, who will have to shrug and tell you that she doesn’t know. You could go online and have the internet tell you when Devoha first received her nickname, or to be more precise, when it became commonly used. Or you can nod your head silently as I, once again, give you hints about heights you shouldn’t be thinking about reaching just yet.”
Sam turned to Yvessa, who made an active effort to prevent anything like a shrug from coming off of her. “From what I know, the common explanation holds that she made a lot of predictions that turned out correct in the long run. Like that the Pharroy Offensive was going to end in failure, which was why she kept most of the deshar forces in reserve. But, I also remember her being called that before, so I guess either that story is fabricated or that the high ranks don’t put much stock in her nickname.”
“Both of these: false assumptions,” Farris said. “But telling you cadets anything more would be an egregious breach of military confidentiality. So, Sam, the reason that Devoha of the Voice is called the Silent Seer is really simple. She decided on that nickname herself and made everyone else call her by it.”
“So neither parts of that nickname are true?” Sam asked.
“In a way. In a different way, they are also somewhat true.”
“Are you being trying to drag for time on purpose by being cryptic? If she can’t tell the future, then she’s not a seer. Case should’ve been called an hour ago.”
“Wait until you meet her before you make any assumptions about whether her nickname is deserving. I promise you this, there’s a reason why she feels comfortable calling herself that, and it’s the same reason why even a Chosen like my mother would sometimes call her by that name. The truth of the matter is that no one can know the future, at least no mortal, if you buy into the existence of an omniscient being and all that crap. The best we can do is predict the future, to guess what will happen based on what we know in the present. And when it comes to knowing the present, there is no one more knowledgeable than the Silent Seer.”
“Does her knowledge of the present have something to do with threads?”
“Indeed.”
“Does it have something to do with her being a Chosen?” Yvessa asked.
“I’m afraid I can’t answer that. Move on?”
Yvessa shrugged, and Sam sighed. “We should’ve done that five minutes ago,” he said. “Don’t even know why I let you manipulate me into asking about that. Literally an example of how ‘fake’ magic is enough to fool people into thinking you can know the future..”
“Splendid! So, your footwork. Pretty good for having only trained for three weeks. And only focusing on footwork as a whole for the latter two of those weeks. From what I’m seeing, Lin Jingway is being a sufficient combat trainer so far. But tell him to record one of your, let’s say Sunday, sessions once every week and send it to me from now on. I won’t watch it personally, mind you, but I’ll have someone I trust fast forward through it.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if you weren’t as busy and important as you are.”
“Was that flattery that I just heard?”
“Not really. Self-flattery maybe. As in me thinking of what I would do were I wearing your general’s epaulets in the future, and deciding that I wouldn’t want to be spending so much time on someone in my current position.”
Farris nodded. “Time management is indeed one of the reasons why I only allowed myself to mentor two people so far. Remind me, way down the line, to spend a couple of hours lecturing you on the finer arts of the efficient usage of time, both as a combatant and an officer.”
“I’ll try to. Should I have Yvessa accompany for those lectures as well?”
“I think not,” she said. “Best we limit the extent of Farris’ teachings to just you so that we can keep the position of being mentored by him as prestigious as possible.”
Farris laughed. “What great reasoning for not wanting to spend time with me.”
“Hey,” Sam said, “you don’t know which one of us she objects to spending time with.”
“It’s going to be both unless you get a move on,” Yvessa said.
“You’re the one who decided to join Sam uninvited. Don’t go blaming me for ruining your weekend. But point taken. You’re both busy cadets; I’m also busy. Stalling my royal obligations and keeping this call going on for too long will probably make my political reasoning for having it right now backfire. No questions on that front, Sam. I mean it. Modern politics is the one topic that you and I are never going to talk about anytime soon. If you hear me give vague statements like that, it’s because of a force of habit. Unlike other topics, it’s not an invitation for a deeper conversation.”
Sam nodded. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve already given the role of explaining elven politics in the narrative to Yvessa. Well, she gave herself that role, really.”
“Fine, so let’s finally move on. Dan sent me your schedule, and I’m assuming there hasn’t been a difference in it during these last two weeks…?”
“I only started cultivating as per the schedule after Dan gave me the go ahead. But, besides that, I’ve been following it pretty closely.”
“Except during Saturday,” Yvessa said.
“Right, yeah.”
“What do you mean?” Farris asked. “Dan’s schedule doesn’t cover Saturday.”
“Yeah, but I’m a man of habits, so I asked Sarah to make me a schedule for Saturday. And I haven’t followed it last week, and I’m not planning to follow it today, so…”
“Although,” Yvessa said, “with how much time we spent here, you’re more in line with it today than you were last week.”
“Hm… I suppose that’s true.”
Farris chuckled. “I’m assuming that your weekend schedule was too light by your standards and you’ve been shirking in your off-time duties?”
“More or less. Are you going to give me a lecture about the importance of rest as well?”
“That depends. Are you getting enough rest?”
“Enough? No. But not too little? Yeah, I suppose.”
“Then I’ll let you off the hook this time. And what does the rest of today look like for you?”
“Finish here, go back to studying until lunch. Literally until lunch, as I’m abusing my friends’ generosity by getting Felix to go grab it for me, with the excuse of using what’s remaining of the hour after eating together for buying him a PC online. Afterwards, back to studying until five or so, then cultivating until dinner. And depending on how long dinner lasts and how much willpower I will have by that point, some arbitrary allocation of leisure, cultivating, and studying until ten-fifteen.” Farris nodded and turned to type something—probably related to what Sam just told him, but who knows—on the computer.
“I didn’t know you were going to buy Felix a PC today,” Yvessa said. “Can I come?”
“Sure, but only if you promise to make jokes about the fact that you spent every meal of your day off eating with me.”
“What if I skip dinner?”
“Then you’ll have to answer to Sarah.”
“Hmm…” Farris turned back from the monitor. “Well, I promised I wouldn’t lecture you on the subject, so as long as you’re fine keeping like this, my lips are sealed. And how has you cultivating by your lonesome gone so far?”
“Pretty good, I think. I manage to mostly be around the same as during the lessons with Dan. Same minus. But in any case, I’m not good enough to know just how much progress I’m making every session.”
“And you won’t be anytime soon, don’t worry about. As to your overall progress, from what Dan told me, he’s planning to test your core capacity next Friday; see how far you’ve come in a month of cultivating. I’d wager you’d be about a tenth of the way to level 1, which is an excellent amount of progress and a clear sign that you’ll meet the goal of reaching level 1 in half a year. Especially with how natural you turned out to be in seeking.”
“I thought that you’d have expected that.”
“I did. All Thread-Weavers—even and those who discover their talents as adults—are inclined to gather by seeking. You’ll find out why…”
“In half a year.”
“Exactly. But even knowing that, I couldn’t have known exactly how much you’d naturally gravitate towards seeking. I’m happy to tell you that, on that front, if initial talent in seeking was a straight line, you’d be right at the edge.”
“Better than you or Erianna?” Yvessa asked.
“We’re not comparing adults and teenagers. The important thing is that Sam has scored a major win for my hope and aspirations regarding him.”
“Is it that important that he’ll reach level 1 in half a year?”
“Incredibly so. Don’t forget, it’s not just my aspirations as Sam’s mentor. Sam himself wants to finish the academy in two and a half years, and I’m not going to shirk in my duties by not giving him all of my support.”
“So should I assume that you’re going to send the threads teacher to me the moment I hit level 1?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, about that,” Yvessa said. “Did you finally decide who you were going to send him?”
Farris furrowed his brows. “No, I haven’t decided, haven’t had much chance to think about it since you last interrogated me on the subject. I don’t get why you’re so inquisitive about it. As Sam’s mentor, of course I’m going to send him the best teacher I have available. There’s no need for you to worry.”
“It’s just that for your other mentee, you were the one to mostly teach her about threads. And obviously, you can’t be the one to teach Sam… So I’m worried that you’ll be making an uninformed decision instead of throughly judging all the teachers the Royal Academy has on offer one by one.”
“How rude! You trust that I’ll make the right decision, don’t you Sam?”
“Do you want the joke answer or the serious one?” Sam asked.
“Both. Start with the joke, though.”
“Your biggest decision regarding me was taking me under your wing. Which shows a major flaw in your critical thinking, such that would cause me to doubt your decision-making capability.”
“Yeah, pretty much figured that it’d be something like that.”
“In all seriousness, though? I guess that I do trust you. You’ve already surprised me today by taking the whole mentor business much more seriously than I thought you were going to. Plus, it’s not like the decision of who you send to teach me will matter that much. I’m sure that you won’t send anyone unqualified, so there’s really nothing to worry about.”
“See, Yvessa, you could stand to learn a thing or two from your new friend about how great of a person, nay, a mentor, I am.”
She held up hands. “Fine, fine. I give up. I’m sure that you’re going to choose the right person to teach Sam about threads.”
“Indeed I will. I assure you, I’m going to use everything I learned from being Erianna’s mentor in order to be the best mentor possible for Sam. In essence, her own education will be used to make Sam’s education as best as possible.” He clapped his hands with a bright smile. “Alright, this is all the time we’ve got for today, Sam. Didn’t go over everything I wanted to, but we covered the most important bits. Your progress so far has been exemplary, especially when taking all of your circumstances into account, so I’m for than satisfied on that front. As should you be.”
“Thanks.” Sam gulped.
“It’s all you. Well, mostly you. I provide important moral support after all… Anyway, I don’t know when we’ll be having our next talk. My schedule for the coming weeks will be too hectic and disjointed for us to make any concrete apportionment right now. But I’ll probably contact you again in a couple of weeks. We’ll definitely be making make this thing permanent. One call minimum once every three or four weeks. Just for me to have a clearer picture of where you are, at every given time.”
“And for important moral support, presumingly.”
“Of course! Now, does anyone have something more to add, or shall we bid our farewells for now?”
“I’m done,” Sam said. Yvessa shook her head. They bid Farris goodbye, his image instantly dissipating just like it when it appeared. Making their way out of the room, thankfully without the major at their elbow this time, they each kept silent. A fact that Sam was too occupied to notice—lost in his own thoughts; the conflict between feeling relived by Farris’ encouragements and shrugging them off—until they made it out of the guarded complex and Yvessa spoke up and brought him out of his reverie.
“So,” she said, “that was… something. Seems like Farris is really planning to take his role as your mentor seriously.”
“Hmm? I thought that you didn’t have any doubts about that?”
“Not doubts, no. Maybe I worded it wrong. I knew that he wasn’t going to half-ass being your mentor, even if I didn’t know what that meant for either of you. But I expected that, when all was said and done, he wasn’t going to give you as much guidance and support as he did Erianna.”
“I still don’t think I’m going to get quite the treatment that your best friend did. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I’m pretty happy with the current arrangement.”
“Obviously not. But it’s clear that if it was up to Farris, you would be getting the same treatment. He’s just not able to ‘mentor’ you the same way he did Erianna. Lacking means instead of lacking intentions.”
“I see what you mean… So, are we splitting up, or are you going to walk me all the way back?”
“You walking me back to my dorm is not even on the agenda?”
“I should say not. Haven’t I suffered enough physical activity in the last week already?”