Erianna Ninae, second-born of the Queen of Sarechal, Duchess of Yllantore, Sworn Blade of the Heir, Blessed Thread-Weaver, was having a shitty day. Which, if you were intimate with her and were privy to her inner thoughts, you could have also figured out just by the nature of the way she was just thinking of herself.

When she was down, Erianna had the habit of distancing herself from the present moment by thinking of herself in the third person and heaping some of her “hard-earned” titles along with it. It didn’t always have to make sense. Usually it didn’t. She had only been to Yllantore once in adulthood, to shake the hand and receive the fealty of the newly elected World-Guide, before going back home after only staying the one night. Nor did she think her being a Thread-Weaver had anything to do with the scared or spiritual. That was a deshar belief after all. But one day she’ll be in command of many deshars, so it was only prudent of her to know and respect their customs like she did her own.

Obviously right?

Only she didn’t feel very much like respecting her own customs today, a couple of steps down from the usual begrudging weariness she allotted to all things that she had to do and endure solely because of who she was born as. Of course, Alan, her brother, was having a much harder time than she was with having to endure needlessly complicated cultural obligations. But Alan always had a better temperament than her, which may or may not have been the reason why he actually valued the ceremonial roles bestowed upon them by their birthright.

But Alan was their mother’s heir; the future monarch, whose executive duties will be directly interlinked with his customary ones. She, on the other hand, was their uncle’s heir; future commander in charge of the entire Sarechi (and for now Terran as well) military structure (barring, of course, whatever complexities may arise from her grandmother dying before Farris having managed to become a Chosen). She, as a soldier and a general, had no place or reason to continue holding on to antiquated customs, useless ceremonies, and time-wasting pleasantries. The elven military had already started the process of eschewing most of the past’s trappings and confinements on it long ago. A process which her uncle was more than happy to expedite.

So why was she, for all the fucking Drowned Spirits’ sake, forced to endure a whole fucking day of useless vigil for all the noble-born Royal Academy graduates who have died in the last decade since Shallenet?! Two years ago, and her brother would have been the one forced to carry on the vigil (and he probably would have been happy to do it, the bastard) in her stead. But, three years older than her, he had already graduated, free to begin his (hopefully) decades long apprenticeship under their mother. So there was no one else to preform the sacred royal rite, which aimed to show just how deeply the royal line appreciated the sacrifices its faithful nobles made for it.

“What faithfulness?! What sacrifice?!” she wanted to scream at the sapphire studded walls of the emptied academy’s Coral Hall, which imprisoned her for the last (almost) twenty-four hours. The nobility only accounted for fifty percent of the overall graduates in the last year (their percentage of deaths in the front was much lower however) and the academy served to entrench their power just as much it helped train them to fight for the kingdom’s sake! And it’s not like they were just fighting for the monarch’s whims after all. It wasn’t two centuries ago, and they weren’t fighting silly border wars with the Empire anymore. They were fighting for the survival of all intelligent races in the Web. If they wouldn’t fight, then they would just end up dying, fodder for the Epirak hordes.

“Fuck them!” she wanted to scream as well. Only she couldn’t scream because the hall had acoustics like a motherfucker and everyone outside (and there was also a vigil outside, because of course there was) would hear her.

Instead, she gnashed her teeth and bit her lips and tried to avoid thinking about the fact that if she wasn’t forced to forsake eating for three days and drinking for one before entering the vigil, then she could have used the time for something useful instead. Some cultivating maybe, or perhaps she could try to sharpen her Threadsight (every little bit got her closer to her goal). Maybe, if she could have ensured she wouldn’t be heard, she could have practiced her combat forms as well. But it was all a moot point because she was starved and dehydrated and couldn’t muster much more energy than for the easiest techniques of gathering. The bastards couldn’t have waited until one more year or so? For when she made it to level 5 and could imprint some sustenance patterns to make the whole ordeal not as wasteful?

Of course, one of the bastards in question was most definitely her mother (who would not have let the academy conscript Erianna for the vigil if Erinna didn’t consent to it). And her mother would have also made the calculation that having Erianna take part in the ceremony while she was still level 4 would better serve her purpose in having the ceremony in the first place, placating the noble families and assuaging the fears of certain factions among them concerning their waning influence. And the most annoying thing was that her mother was right, this one (or even four) wasted day wasn’t going to be the barrier between her and becoming a Chosen in the future. The lost value of her not being able to study and train was more than gained in the political clout that she won for her mother and brother.

But she wouldn’t have to win political clout if there wasn’t a sizable portion of nobility that was deathly allergic to any sign of reform and dreaded losing the unearned powers they held even more than getting killed by Epiraks. She also wouldn’t have to do this if people didn’t give age-old customs mystical importance just because they were age-old. What was her wasting her time in this suffocating hall meant to achieve for the dead? If people really cared for them and their sacrifice, then they would leave her well alone, let her train so that she could begin to wield real influence on the battlefield as soon as possible.

She let out a breath, bringing her composure back under control. She didn’t have a watch with her (having not been invented three thousand years ago or whenever this ritual was first thought up of) but she always had her time keeping pattern active since she imprinted it six years ago, ever since the moment she could, having made level 1. It counted twenty-four rotations for the day with six rotations for the hour and currently she was on the twenty-third and fifth since being closed in here. Or in other words, it was almost six in the morning of the very next day, because only insane people used the pattern as a timer and not as a substitute for a clock (trace thorough it for the very first time when the clocks strikes midnight). And since it was almost time for the doors to be opened and for her to be let out, she repeated her measured breathing a couple more times. She wasn’t going to let anyone see her rattled or annoyed. She’ll save it for the meal that was waiting for her back home, and the practice-dolls in the family training yard.

The seconds passed like seconds always do when you start counting minutes instead of hours and she quickly grew tired of maintaining calm for the sake of it. Slipping into her core (still not anywhere close to malleable) she began cultivating by the most basic of techniques that she had long graduated from. But that she always kept coming back to them when she was feeling down or too tired to train in all earnest. Something about the simplicity of blind seeking, sort of like fishing just not boring, always managed to calm her down, and she always perked up when comparing the difference the years had made in her ability with excavating.

She barely finished two dozen cycles when she heard the grating of the ancient doors opening (another stupid custom: they were the same doors from the old Royal Academy’s Opal Hall. They didn’t care about the old hall itself or all the bloody gems adorning it, but the doors were somehow important enough to carry all the way to the new building). She opened her eyes to see the academy’s dean enter, flanked by its Master of Customs (a nice enough woman for someone that was in charge of what was probably, in most students’ eyes, the most negative aspect of their stay here) and General Leshei, head of security for the academy and the only other companion of her vigil who stayed the whole twenty-four hours.

The dean reached her, sitting crossed legged in the middle of the hall, and with a bright smile, bent down to hand her a silk towel perfumed with olive oil. “Your Highness,” he said, a form of address he was not required to keep due to her attending the academy but still retreated to on formal occasions such as this one. “You have served your kingdom with great equanimity. The living thank you and the dead forgive you. Will you stand and end your vigil?”

Erianna gave a silent nod and without making a single sound, she stood up, dabbing her forehead, chin, and right ear with the towel. She handed it back to the dean, and returned their customary deeper than normal bow with her own customary bow for the occasion (some more time wasted due to stupid customs, and this one might actually have an effect on the world at large considering she had to keep practicing in formal behavior well after twelve). She smiled her long trained court smile back at the three of them and waited for them to start shifting nervously, in unconscious recognition that what they were all doing was utterly ridiculous, before she would speak up and officially dismiss them.

She didn’t get a chance, though, because out of the corner of her eyes she recognized the effects of the movement of some all too familiar threads outside the door. And soon, like destiny, her brother appeared in the doorway, his politically correct and better maintained bright smile plastered upon his face. “Gentlefolk,” he said, his voice inoffensive as vanilla ice-cream, “my sister just had a long dance of the twins. Might I be excused in taking her away back to the palace? There is some family matter of relative urgency that I wish to discuss with her.”

“Of course, Your Highness, of course.” The dean bowed. “Please. We just finished with releasing Her Highness from her vigil.” His two companions bent in respect to royal majesty as well, and after bidding them farewell in silence, Erianna began following her brother outside, to the car she knew was waiting for them. It was still six in the morning, so the academy’s halls and gardens were sparsely populated, but there were still enough people to notice the two of them. That, together with the forthcoming declaration from the academy that the vigil had been a success, would be what made her time in the Opal Hall worth it. Because giving thanks to the nobles fallen in combat definitely wasn’t it.

“So,” Alan said once they were in the back of the car, now making the half an hour drive from the academy to the royal palace, “how was it?” Erianna started at him impassively, his annoying wide smile was still adorning his face. “What? The vigil’s over now, you can go back to speaking. Or did the day long quarantine and fast hurt your ability to speak in the tongue of elves?”

“Just give me a bottle of water, asshole.” She pointed to the plastic pack conveniently left in his side of the car. Her brother’s smile grew wider as he bent down to grab a bottle before handing it back to her and using the opportunity of her drinking to ruffle her hair. “Stop that.”

“Make me. Until you sleep, eat and drink in order to recover yourself, I’m still stronger than you. Back the way it was when we were growing up, right?”

“We’re still growing up.”

“You maybe. I’m already a grown man.”

“Evidence begs to differ.” She pushed him away from her and finished the bottle in huge gulps before handing it back to Alan and signaling for another one. Second bottle finished, she let out a satisfied breath before melting into the sit. “So, what is the family emergency?”

“Urgent family matter to discuss, you mean.”

“Sure, what was it?”

“Nothing. I just made it up.”

“Oh great! So all the time I just wasted in that stupid room is going down the drain because you’ve just created a rumor that we had something urgent to discuss. Oh, I wonder what Laricis and Puanrata and all their ilk will start whispering in a couple of hours. ‘Yes, she did the vigil, but she left unceremoniously straight after due to an urgent matter, probably just scheming with her brother and mother how to skin us all and use the money gained by selling our skin to build some orphanages in New Terra.’ Thanks a lot Al…”

“Hm… That’s not such a bad idea. But who will pay for such an inbred skin? Maybe some war-hawks in the Empire? Relax, would you? No one is going to say anything about me taking you away due to a family matter. The dean knows very well to stay away from politics and do whatever the government, that’s us or the military, that’s also us, tells him to do. The Master of Customs is too devoted to her role to say anything more about the vigil than it having passed successfully. And the general is Farris’ man after all. Besides, there is an urgent family matter up for discussion, just not to do with you. Our uncle’s unannounced sojourn to New Terra and the subsequent decisions still coming out from his dialogue with the Terran military had created a huge pileup in my workload.”

“Maybe you should have been the one doing the vigil then. Would have given you plenty of time to do all the paperwork in the world.”

“That doesn’t make even a lick of sense. You know just as well as me that I can’t be the one to stand the vigil. Not to mention, and much more importantly, that as long as I’m not the king, the nobles care more about what you think and do than what I think or do.”

“And how stupid do you think ‘the nobles’ to be that they will be mollified by my one day of fasting and sitting quietly in a brightly lit room?”

“Usually it’s you who find nobles to be stupid.”

“Yeah. And even I don’t think that they will care one way or the other about me doing the fucking vigil.”

“See, that’s where you’re definitely wrong. Because they might not care one way about you doing the vigil, it might not make them happier in the slightest. But they would most certainly care the other way if you were to skip on the vigil. It’s easier to make people angry than happy after all.”

“I wish I didn’t have to care about them being happy or angry.”

“As do I, as do I. But look on the bright side, maybe if you and Farris manage to become Chosen while grandmother is still alive, and the Terrans will also field one or two Chosen of their own, you really would be able to live the rest of your life without caring about the whims of the nobility.”

“How about you then? You’re going to be the king. You don’t enter into the picture at all?”

“The good monarch is satisfied ruling with the tools they are given. The average one is not. And the bad one tries to rule beyond their means. You give me four Chosen that I could completely rely on. I’ll give you the great egalitarian reform that will completely defang our aristocracy. Or maybe I won’t. Contrary to your own opinion, the institution of nobility does serve a purpose in our fine nation. Who knows where we would be without them, relying only on our royal selves to govern the kingdom?”

“You’re right. Without the nobles, who will fill the quota of students who aren’t good enough to attend the Royal Academy and only got in because of who their ancestors were?”

“Some rich Terrans maybe?” Alan laughed. “That’ll really be a kick in the nuts for those uppity bastards. Their worst dreams come true: Their bloodline rejected in favor of the corrupting influence of the Terran Dollar.”

“Who cares? Those are the same people are currently using the train every weekend, despite their parents or grandparents vehemently opposing them, because if they were to travel with their own two feet to their pleasure retreats in some outskirts world, it’ll take them a couple of days to get there.”

“What about the Rulers among them? They can fly faster than the trains.”

“They’re a different breed of assholes because they should be at the front lines instead of fucking off to Gran-Ika every weekend.”

“Oh, but have you been to Gran-Ika? It’s the jewel of the kingdom, the Web even!”

“You know I haven’t and you know why I’m never going to. It’s bad enough that our family is the biggest landholder in that world. We shouldn’t be partaking in that place’s decadence any further.”

Alan laughed. “You’re just saying that because you don’t like the beach.”

“I like the beach well enough, but not when it’s elf-made, and costing us a so much a year in upkeep.”

“We only pay for half of the upkeep, you know that.. Just like you know that the state more than breaks even as a result of profit made from that world.”

“Great, we break even, made some profit. We could have saved all of us a headache and just invested that profit at the front in the first place.”

“It doesn’t work like that, and you also know that.”

“Yeah, well. Sometimes I wish I didn’t. Would make my job a whole lot easier. Wouldn’t have to care about the nobles, the councils, the Pawns and all that other shit. Just have to focus on getting stronger and learning how to wage war, and even for the latter, I’d have people who could do stuff for me.”

“You could have people do the political stuff for you. That’s what I’m here for, after all.”

“Then why do I have to learn all this stuff and go through all this bullshit, then?”

“Same reason why I’m level 5, had to learn how to fight and will be joining you on your training camp in a year’s time.”

“Year and a half.” Erianna sighed. The day could not come any sooner. A year and a half of intensive combat training and immersive tactical and strategic study under the tutelage of the brightest minds and strongest arms that the kingdom had on offer. Which meant that in three years’ time, she would finally be free from the confines of her education and released on the front with her very own, albeit very limited, command. Finally free to make her own mark on the war and make the Epiraks pay for all the death that they caused. At least, that was the plan. Who knew what would happen if she had to stand many more of these vigils? “You going is a done deal, then? Is the kingdom going to survive without you at its helm?”

“You mean me as the bosun’s mate, maybe. I’m still a far cry from leading the vessel of state.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m not a ship nerd like you are,” she said with a smile. Then, in order to stifle a yawn, she stretched out on the back sit in an approximation of the many palace cats the royal household payed patronage to. “So is there anything else you or Mom need me to do? Or am I free to go back to my studies?”

Alan laughed. “Do you still have anything left to study? From my understanding, you’ve spent almost half of the last month staying home instead of going to the academy.”

“And who feeds your understanding, I wonder? But you don’t need to worry about me. I still have plenty of subjects that I need to study before I’m satisfied, even carrying on to next year. Only for most of those, I’d be more than able to study them on my own. In fact, it might be more efficient. Instead of wasting time driving back and forth or having to contend with the class’ speed of progression.”

“So you’re just going to spend next year cooped up at home?”

“Hardly. There are still plenty of courses for me to take frontally. And my fellow students still make for the best sparring partners for my level. Don’t worry about me. I’m not going to stay in my room all day, only stopping taking a break cultivating in order to practice combat or my Threadsight.”

“Or watch TV, play games, or partake in any other form of the debauched Terran entertainment that you and Farris are so fond of.”

“You like that stuff just as much as I do.”

“Do I?”

“Well, maybe not as much. But well enough so that you have no right to pass judgment on anyone. Besides, I’ll have you know that I barely watched anything since Yv left. It’s less fun when there’s no one to watch with.”

“You’re more than welcome to come watch something with me sometime. Or me and Phiya, I guess.”

“Oh yeah… That’s just what I want to do with my free time. Be the third wheel between my brother and his betrothed and join them in watching the stuffy period dramas that he likes so much.”

“You mostly watch old shows. How come being set a hundred-plus years ago doesn’t make them period shows as well?”

“Because the characters talk like normal people and not like some of Tidal-Age play. That kind of dialogue belongs in the theater.”

“Speaking of, you joining me and Mom this Friday?”

“Maybe… we’ll see. I still have the last couple of days to catch up on. Having been forced to waste them on a very frivolous undertaking.”

Alan let out a sigh. “We’re back to that already?”

“We never left. Maybe when I’m cleaned, fed and well rested, I could try and begin putting this harrowing ordeal out of my mind, but until then? The least you could do as an older brother is lend me a shoulder to cry on and a pair of ears to register my complaints.”

“Sure, I’ll do just that. As long as we’re stuck in the same car, that is. Also, one tiny piece of advice. From a normal person who actually has the mental capability to feel unjustly treated by the world. Your complaining would be much more credible if I didn’t know that were you to endure the same conditions, nay, ever harsher conditions, as a result of combat, I wouldn’t be hearing a squeak from you.”

“Maybe so. But until I’m forced to endure the same conditions at the front, we won’t know that for certain, would we? Now, let me close my eyes for a bit.”

“Going for a nap?”

“No, cultivating.”

“Of course you are…” Her brother chuckled. Erianna soon shut herself out from the outside world, the car and the street it was passing through, her brother’s, even her own breathing. The only thing that remained was the wide world’s magic on offer, hers for the taking and her core’s for expanding. Released from the suffocating prison of the Opal Hall (the car might have been smaller, but it was much more familiar gathering grounds for Erianna, as well as not holding any negative connotations), her mind was free to engage in the most advanced form of seeking and excavating she was familiar with. In both cases it was not the one she was most comfortable and successful with, but she hoped that her luck with the new seeking technique would soon change with enough practice, and mastering the cumbersome ‘excavation’ one was the prerequisite for starting to use the technique that she knew was going to last her a long time.

A short while later and a much lower numbers of cycles completed compared to her round of gathering before being let out of the hall (although her intuition told her that it was similar enough from a cultivation standpoint) and she felt the car come to a stop. Knowing what was coming next, she kept gathering for one last cycle, and, after leaving her brother bowing while holding the door open for half a minute, she opened her eyes and elegantly stepped out of the car, curtsying for her oh so loving and gracious brother.

“Want to eat with Mom?” Alan asked her as they entered the palace proper.

“She’s up already?” Her mother was a Ruler, (although by all accounts—mainly her uncle’s—not a good combat one), so she could theoretically do just fine with less than the six hours sleep that Erianna and her brother maintained since they were fourteen (the problem with growing up with people who could see threads as well as her uncle and grandmother was that they knew if she got up earlier than she was allowed to). But their mother chose not to utilize the extra amount of waking time that her strength allotted her and kept to the same amount of sleep as her two children. Which unfortunately meant that most mornings there was no chance for her to dine with them because she ended her day two hours later than they did.

“She gave up two hours of her precious sleeping time. Just for you.” Erianna snorted but followed her brother to their mother’s private chambers, trying not to feel bad about being way more excited about the prospect of eating than of finally having breakfast with her family after what felt like forever. Oh well, she had just spent four days without eating, and it’s not like it was the whole family who was eating together. Her uncle kept erratic hours and didn’t even live at the palace. Her grandmother usually ate alone, if at all. And would it really be a family dinner without Marin and Phiya there? Yes, it would. She still couldn’t see Phiya as family and Marin was more her close friend than her cousin. If she invited him, then she would also want to invite Yvessa, a close friend that she actually grew up with, and didn’t start living in close proximity to only because their parents threw them out due to being raging assholes.

“Why are you frowning now?” Her brother laughed and poked at her slightly full cheeks.

“I was just thinking of Marin.”

“Why, what happened? Pyllan not to his liking?”

“No, it’s… Never mind.” Her brother didn’t share her distaste for their paternal side of the family and she wasn’t going to lie. She talked to Marin only a week ago and according to him, he was having a grand-old time in the Imperial capital (and as cliche as the words might’ve been, coming from him meant that he really was enjoying himself).

“Your Highnesses,” greeted them Mira with a bow. She was one of the three Rulers who served as their mother’s bodyguard at all times. Erianna didn’t understand why her mother needed protection while staying under the same roof as their grandmother but she was willing to concede these three Rulers from the war effort if it meant making sure that nothing would happen to her mom (the rational part in her, which she made great efforts to bury deep down, was content because it saw the risk of a transfer of powers as too great for the utility gained from just three extra Rulers on the front).

The siblings returned Mira’s greetings and stepped through the door she opened for them to the (currently) private confines of their mother’s dining room. Their mother was seated away from them, at the round table where they took most of their meals growing up. Her mother’s radiant smile was the original on which Alan’s was modeled after, but even that wasn’t enough to draw Erianna’s eyes for more than a second as she sat down and descended upon the food-laden table with a ravenous grin. “Hey Mom,” was all she said before stuffing two sweet buns in her face.

“I’m guessing that you didn’t cheat before the vigil started then,” her mom said with a laugh. Not before greeting her very polite and filial brother who actually loved their mother enough to go and hug her.

“Like you need to guess,” Erianna said with her mouth half full. “You seriously telling me that you didn’t keep an eye on me?”

“Of course I didn’t. I’m not going to spy over my adult daughter’s threads to see whether she eats when she’s not supposed to. Besides, you’re giving me too much credit. I very much doubt that I would have been able to discern something like that with you all grown up.”

“Aha! You see, Erianna.” Alan waved his fork at her. “Now we know that the true reason for our mother stopping to spy on us was because of her own lack of power. If she could, then perhaps she still would be keeping an ever vigilant eye on us, making sure we are staying out of trouble and representing the kingdom as best as we can.”

“And when did I ever have to keep any of you out of trouble?” her mother asked. “Really, the only organized spying we ever did was on Erianna, to make sure that she went to bed on time and didn’t wake up too early.”

“Yes, I recall those days. She kept pestering Farris to teach her about threads, hoping that it would help her fool you. Little did she know that Farris was the main informant spying against her.” He laughed and Erianna took a two second break from emptying the table in order to scowl at him.

Thankfully, the rest of the mealtime conversation didn’t include Erianna. Alan and her mother maintained enough small talk for the three so she could focus on sating her hunger. Long after her two companions finished their breakfast, she finally leaned back in a satisfied slouch, put two hands on her belly and closed her eyes to bask in the overawing feeling of filled space winning over what was once empty. “That’s my girl.” Her mother started stroking her hair after moving her chair over. “You must have had such a hard and boring time, stuck in that Opal Hall for an entire day.”

“I sure did. Maybe you could get me out of all state functions for the next year in compensation?”

“We’ll see about that. Farris had just upended a decade’s worth of political balancing by finally putting a date on his summit with the Terran General Staff, and ruined any chance of smoothing things over by having the conference begin less than a day after he called for it. A move that I can only hope won’t have any negative impacts on the military side of things. But definitely would for the political side. So you, our future general, might be needed to show that the royal family is still committed to the status-quo.”

“Even if we’re not,” Alan added. “And even with you being just as extreme as dear uncle is.”

“Fuck that,” Erianna said. “If Farris’ idiocy is at fault, then he should be the one to fix it. Maybe he shouldn’t have kept putting off the summit and giving mixed messaged about it and its intentions. Besides, it’s only been a day. What could they have already decided that would get the Moonies all hot and bothered?”

“I don’t know.” Her mother kept smoothing her hair. “I doubt it would be anything concrete rather than just being upset at the Terrans for having a say in the matter of their military. And… because they view any action of my brother as preparing ground for his goal of completing the Epirak Reforms.”

Alan scoffed. “Idiotic. Considering he doesn’t have any concrete plans for what those reforms might one day entail.”

“Not entirely idiotic. Whatever Farris might decide the ideal form of our military should be. There is no doubt that the end result would bring it closer in form to the Terran military. Which, for many nobles, is already a grave sin. Not to mention some very likely new policies. Like one that would mean that the nobility would lose their ability to wield influence based on guaranteed appointments.”

“Oh how sad,” Erianna said. “They would only have all their other advantages to relay upon, like generational wealth, entrenchment in the political and cultural structure, and all the fighters sworn directly to them; a couple dozen Rulers and one Chosen.”

“Indeed. The first road stone on the path of completely stripping them of their influence, as they are sure to see it. You might not see this version of the future as something to be scared about, but you are more than smart enough to recognize why the Moon-Sworn might be scared of it.”

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Erianna wrinkled her nose. It was hard to dismiss someone as being an idiot when they had every reason for being afraid, the morality of the fear notwithstanding. “So do you know what caused Farris to push forward the summit to… yesterday, was it?”

“It’s still ongoing and will continue for quite some time. Even if by all accounts Farris wasn’t present for a considerable percentage of the first day and already left today.”

“And by all accounts, you wouldn’t happen to mean just what Basil told you?”

Her mother nodded, with a slight bite of her lip. “He didn’t tell me anything concrete, owing due to some stuff not being ironed out yet, but mostly because that’s my brother’s job. But he did tell me that Farris put him in charge of our delegation and the conference’s proceedings while he was not present. Which, in addition to those couple of hours yesterday, will evidently mean every day going forward.”

“Oh, that’s just great,” Erianna laughed. “The summit could end with the Terrans relinquishing all independence of their military and the Moonies are still going to hate it.” Despite nearing forty and still not making Ruler, Basil Lamius was her uncle’s unofficial second in command and officially the queen’s attaché to the supreme commander. Born to a Terran father and to a half-Imperial half-elven mother, his mixed heritage would have been enough to get those moon-mad idiots to hate him. What only further fueled their hatred was that almost every major change that her uncle instituted in the military was mainly facilitated (and in their idiotic minds, perhaps thought of) through Basil.

Her brother and mother were going to have their work cut out for them, cleaning the fallout from leaving one of the most contentious events in the Moon-Sworn eyes to one of their most hated persons. Serves them right for trying to use her as a political tool in order to assuage the Moonies’ fears. Didn’t they understand that they were only pushing her further and further along into the path of starting to act like her uncle the moment she made Ruler? Probably Not. Her mother knew that she would never be as flippant as Farris is. A fact that her mother made much use of when forcing her to study politics even as late as this academic year.

“What are you laughing at?” Her brother tried flicking her temple, but she easily (having regained some energy) deflected his hand away. “You’re going to have your part to play in fixing this mess as well. That means official state meals, hunting excursions, attending tourneys, and not threatening violence on every half-wit noble who annoys you.”

“Mooom!” Erianna made kitten eyes at her mother, who just laughed and stepped back with her chair.

“We’ll see what happens in the future,” she said. “The summit is still not over and your uncle still owes me some favors that I could use to have him pay his own due diligence in calming the waters.”

Alan scoffed. “When did he ever actually let you cash out any of those favors? Last time he was at a state function was my graduation. Need I remind you how that went?”

“You’d be surprised then. Your graduation wasn’t a favor I called from him. Your uncle came because he loves you. But I did end up calling in a favor after what happened. And wouldn’t you know it? A certain Ruler finally got his dream post leading our expeditionary forces in the clans. Farris might not be a very political creature, but that is out of choice more than of nature. He knows when to give up and do as I ask, and he knows what his actions signify and to take their political cost into account. You’d be surprised how well his calculations work out in the long run. That’s what I’m hoping happened yesterday as well, although what I’ve been hearing hasn’t given me much room for relaxation.”

“Why?” Erianna asked. “What else did you hear?”

“Did he transfer more Terran units to deshar command?” Alan laughed.

Their mother waved her hand in dismissal. “Only rumors. Basil hadn’t been very forthcoming; under direct orders from what I understand. But, I’ll let Farris explain himself to me before I set to judging him. Hear what he has to say for himself.”

“Oh oh. That doesn’t good for our dear uncle. Seriously, what else did you hear that he did?”

“Like I told you, nothing certain yet. And I certainly won’t know how to judge what I heard until I meet face to face with him. But that doesn’t matter, leave your uncle and his follies away from your mind. This was supposed to be a happy meal, thanking Erianna for her dedication to her duty.”

“Thank you, Erianna,” her brother said in a high-pitched voice. She gave him the middle finger. “So what are you going to do with the rest of the day? Catch some sleep? It’s still early after all.”

“No, I’ll stay up. It’s only been a day. I have plenty else that I need to do.” With that, she bid her brother and mother farewell. They were going to continue talking in private for some more time, dealing with the matters of state. She, on the other hand, had much more tangible problems to grapple with. While she managed to keep to her cultivation schedule for the last couple of days, maybe even get ahead, all other forms of training had suffered as a result of preparing for the vigil and going through it.

She used the first hours of the morning to catch up on her studies, working to maintain the significant lead that she had over most other people her age. The second semester might only have just began not long ago but the relative ease of the electives she chose to take for it (compared to the previous semester and her plans for next year) meant that, despite the abundance of courses, she should already have had enough time to create a two-week lead in all the courses which weren’t complex enough to prevent her studying on her own. But, as things were, she only had a two-week lead in two courses and barely a week’s lead in another one.

So that was something to begin fixing immediately. Another problem that popped up was that one of the frontal (complex enough for her to want to partake in it) courses was scheduled for today, but she wasn’t planning to step foot in the Royal Academy until next week in order to cleanse herself of the vigil’s memory. Luckily, the instructor for the course was one of those directly employed in the academy by the royal family. He privately tutored her in the past year when she found it necessary, and this year shouldn’t be any different. She sent him an email, ccing Palace Security, asking him to arrange a session on Friday or the weekchange at the time most convenient for him.

Schoolwork done, she asked for lunch to be brought up to her rooms, and used that time to shower and finally clean up from the last day’s “ordeal.” Half an hour later, cleaned and well fed, she embarked on a two-hour session of cultivating, followed by an hour session of Threadsight training, then an hour of threads recognition. She ended that fourth hour more frustrated than she began it. However great her Sight might’ve been compared to most Thread-Weavers her age, her usage of it was still not up to her usual standards, despite training in it since she was fifteen. As annoying as it was to admit, threads was the only subject in which she fell short of surpassing her uncle’s achievements when he was her age. At least if she took his words at face value, and as long as Yvessa wasn’t there to point out her core’s state to her.

Deciding that it was high time to release some pent up energy, she picked up her sword from the mantle she was forced to leave it on yesterday before the vigil (why would the dead care whether she was carrying a weapon?) and proceeded to the family’s private training yard. She took her time warming up and going through the different forms before she began methodically working her way thorough the different practice-dolls that cost a fortune to set up after being depleted of their magic.

She started training with all patterns before going down to sustained only. Then with none at all (the feeling of fatigue coming down from all sustained patterns was unpleasant, but very important to train resistance to), switching between tracing at will and using only her physical body at random. It was only a few minutes after she began her comprehensive practice that she noticed someone was watching her. Although she didn’t know whether he just got there or whether he was watching longer, but only let her see his threads just now.

“Mom was looking for you,” she told her uncle without bothering to look at him. He was too experienced a Ruler and talented a Thread-Weaver to let his threads flaunt themselves enough for Erianna to know he was there based on threadsight alone. If he wanted her to know he was here, and still didn’t bother walking up to her and saying hello, that was up to him. She wasn’t going to play his stupid games. Or maybe she was doing just that, it would take a truly deranged mind to understand how her uncle’s operated but she had an inkling that he was more than happy with the picture of her speaking to him without bothering to see that he was indeed there.

“I know. I just came back from talking with her.” He laughed. “She really tried to let me have it. But I think that I left with the upper hand in the end. That’s what happens when you make the most rational and utilitarian decision. People can’t help but agree with you.”

She snorted, tracing through her sword, focusing the affecting magic to act at just the right point where it met the doll, and proceeded to take its head off. “From what I heard, you finally held your summit with the Terrans that you’ve been hyping for so long. But you gave no one a heads-up and left after being there for less than a day.”

“That’s not completely fair. I stayed there all through the night until we hammered out every important detail. Everything else Basil will take care of. But my time is precious. I couldn’t waste so much of it on just a simple discussion of logistics.”

“We both know that it wasn’t just ‘a simple discussion of logistics.’ In fact, you know that better than me. So the question is, what else was so important on New Terra that you came late to the summit that you yourself called and left after less than a day? Staying all through the night, notwithstanding.”

“Ah.” Her uncle clicked his tongue. “Now we come to the meat of the matter. For you see, the reason why I called the summit all of a sudden, and the reason why I was absent for the first hours of it, are one and the same.”

He stopped speaking at that point, and after another minute with no word heard from him, Erianna finally turned to look at him with an exasperated grunt. “And am I supposed to ask what that thing is?”

“That would be the nice thing to do, yes. Help build the dramatic tension the right way.”

“Well bully for you.” She didn’t rise up to the bait, and walked past him to drink from the nearby fountain and dry her face with the towel she left on the bench. Her uncle looked at her expectantly, tapping his foot and starting to squirm the longer she looked at him without speaking.

“OK, fine!” He threw his hands up. “I’ll just come out and say it! News came out of New Terra a week ago.”

“What news?” Erianna asked before she could stop herself. Dammit! She chided herself with a bite of the tongue.

“A new Taken.”

“A new Taken? Huh. I guess that is pretty big news. Probably more so for someone like you, who truly believes in an intelligent and benevolent force behind them.”

“Oh ho, you better believe that it was big news for someone like me. In fact, this new Taken just goes to prove that everything that I thought about them is true.”

“How come?”

“A couple of reasons. First, guess how old is he.”

“I don’t know… Taken have to be already old enough to awaken, so that’s around twelve… Is he much younger than that?”

“Quite the opposite.”

“Older? That’s what got you excited?”

“Guess how old.”

“I don’t know. Fourteen? Fifteen?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Twenty—That’s an actual adult! I didn’t know that there were adult Taken returned after integration.”

“There aren’t, he’s the first. The oldest Taken to be returned after their world’s integration was over was an Imperial who just turned sixteen.”

“And you just happen to know that little tidbit…”

“I did my research after I heard about this new Taken. Trying to confirm my assumptions. But wait! This isn’t all that’s special about him. There’s something else, something much more important that makes him unique compared to all other Taken. Care to guess what?”

“I don’t know… He didn’t start at sub-level 1?”

“Tsk, no. But that’s only be for the best. It’s going to be hard enough for him as it is to acclimate to magic without also starting with a level 1 and fragmented core.”

“Then what is it? He’s from after their integration?”

“No. But that would be pretty cool.”

“Then what is it?”

Farris’ smile grew even wider than before, his eyes twinkling. “What made me such an amazing young prospect before you came along and stole my thunder?”

“Stole your thunder? What are you, twelve?” She shook her head at her uncle’s childishness and tried to think. Evidently he wasn’t going to just act normal and tell her what was special about this new Taken, aside from his old age, and at this point Erianna was too committed to give up.

“No. But the answer lies back when we were both twelve.”

“What? Are you talking about the Awakening? What’s so special about that for a Taken? He’s already got perfect pathways.”

“True, so not that.”

“What then—Wait… are you saying that he’s a Thread-Weaver? Like an actual Thread-Weaver Taken? Perfect pathways, and the Sight straight from the get go?”

“And what Threadsight… I dare say that he’s no slouch, even when compared to you as you are today.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Probably. But judging from the headache that he got while looking at me, I’ll say that he’s better than you or I were at when in his place.”

“So you personally went to help him turn off his threadsight? Is that really why you called the summit of of a sudden? Wait, is he really the only Thread-Weaver Taken? Has there been no other one?”

“None on record. Which signals to me that no, because that’s definitely something that will help you become strong enough to survive and eventually famous enough to go on the record. For some reason, Sam is not the only adult Taken to be returned after an integration, but he’s also the only Taken with the sight. And I think those two unique points are connected to each other. Either Sam is the only adult to be returned because he’s also a Thread-Weaver or he’s a Thread-Weaver because he’s the only adult to be returned. Whatever the reason, it’s clear that he’s special as fuck, so it’s no wonder why I had to meet him, right?”

“And you couldn’t just arrange a vacation?!” Sarah smacked his thigh with the blunt of her blade, knowing full well that even with all her magic tracing through it, it wouldn’t even register on Farris’ senses. “You had to orchestrate an elaborate scheme to bring you to New Terra on official business?”

“Not elaborate, very basic and see-through. That wasn’t even the scheme, per se. It was more me wanting to get rid of two obligations at the same time.”

“Have you no shame?! A sense of responsibility?! Do you know how much extra work and headache you just gave mom and her advisors?”

“Well, if it’s anything like the headache I got from listening to her lecture, then yes.” He smiled sheepishly. “Oh relax, would you? Since when did you give a crap about the political hand stringing game our elders are stuck with?”

“Ever since I developed my ability to sympathize with the people closest to me. So at age two, maybe?”

“Ha! More like five. You were a much bigger handful than your brother was. Besides, are you sure that your concern for my lacking political acumen is really driven by familial sympathies? Rather than, let’s say… having to take an active part in your mother’s political maneuvering? How was your vigil, by the way? I never had to do one while I was in school. They wanted me to when I made Ruler and was named general, but I managed to foist it on Jaril.”

“That’s not true. You did one after he died. After Shallenet. I remember—never mind.” She pursed her lips in dismay. Neither she nor her uncle liked to bring up that time period. The days following her losing her father and Farris his best friend. Her brows burrowed further. She was torn between being mad at herself for focusing on the subject or her uncle for bringing him up in the first place.

Farris flicked her in between her eyebrows, tracing just the right amount of magic through his finger to give her a small jolt. “What are you doing getting yourself down over something that happened a decade ago? Neither of us is so fragile to shatter just by speaking of him. But, if I’m being honest with you… It’s a different feeling holding a vigil of your own volition to one being forced upon you, especially since in my case I wasn’t limiting who I was paying my respects to. Don’t look so doubtful. I might not be a spiritual person, but in times of hardship, it helps to have something to turn to, and that provides some sort of emotional release. Even if you 99.9% don’t believe in it, that zero point one percent feels better than nothing… Well, hopefully you’ll never have to find out for yourself.”

Erianna swallowed, going back on her decade old trick of imagining her bad mood being cleansed together with the bile in her throat. It worked, obviously. The emotions were too old at this point—and she too mature—for them to have any serious effect on her. It was only because of the vigil, and her preparation for it, that she was caught unaware. She adopted a bitter smile, deciding to bring the conversation back on topic, which was admonishing her uncle. “With my luck, I would have to hold two more of these vigils by the time I graduate because of you.”

“Surely not vigils? They can’t have another one so soon unless they decide to honor a broader population base, need more people to die. Luncheons and its ilks; balls; exhibitions; other religious or secular ceremonies; and everything else that the executive is forced to bear with. All those yes, but vigils? Hardly likely.”

“That’s wonderful. So at least I could look forward to having a full belly when my time is wasted on even more frivolity in the next year and a half. All thanks to you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I have a plan to get you out of almost all of your hereditary obligations.”

Erianna couldn’t help but perk up. In matters that had nothing to do with fighting or training her to be a fighter, she wouldn’t trust Farris farther than she could throw him if he was putting up resistance. But something about his—even more than usual—self-assured smile caused her to stand on her toes. Farris was planning something, it was just a question of whether she could trust him to hold his end of the bargain (she couldn’t) and whether he really had her best interests at heart (he did, even though he always tried to act as though the kingdom’s came first). “What’s the plan, then?”

“Oh, interested are you?” Farris laughed, sitting down with his legs stretched forward and his hands cupping his chin. “We’ll get to my plan momentarily, but before that, back to you. Don’t you think that it’s a bit unfilial, immoral even, to be mourning the time you lost in attending to your mother’s requests for your presence at official events? After all, in the grand scheme of things, is there really a better use for your time? You are, after all, well ahead in your studies and level so that you could graduate this year if such a thing was allowed. That’s one whole year of free time that you could dedicate to helping your mother further stabilize her political position.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Not only are you not making any sense, but you have to realize how hypocritical this sounds coming out of your mouth, right?”

“I do, but bear with me. Speaking from a utilitarian point of view—”

“Utilitarian? Since when do you care about utilitarianism one way or the other?”

“Since I had to waste time debating the morality of eradicating the Epiraks, which caused me to understand that if I want to teach that stubborn bastard anything, then I’m going to have to have to speak his language! Now will you please let me finish? I had this whole speech ready to go and you’re ruining it!” Erianna waved for him to continue. “Thank you. So as I was saying, from a utilitarian perspective, some, not all, but at least some of your time, would be more morally spent doing your mother’s bidding in her political games. You are already so far ahead of the curve that you are starting to see diminishing returns from your training.”

“That’s categorically not true! Even if I were to spend all my time cultivating, that would still be time better spent because that would help me reach Ruler faster.”

“Huh huh… And can you spend all of your time cultivating? No way. You’re already on the cusp of spending too much of your time on it as it is, owing to have nothing better to do with your time.”

“Maybe so, but it’s going to change next year. Once I finished all of my required studies, I’m going to branch out in all directions and get what I can from each different discipline. Not to mention starting to prepare my level 8 and 9 patterns based on said new knowledge.”

“Yeah… Newsflash, it’s not going to go as smooth as you think. I already told you this before and I’ll tell you again, your idea of what your level 8 pattern is going to be is not the pattern you are going to leave level 8 with. But I digress. Can we please just take the assumption that some of your time could be better spent of helping your mother rather than studying? I’m having a really hard time getting to my point with you countering everything I say.”

“How about just coming out with your point or your plan or whatever it is you want to say?”

“No!”

Erianna rolled her eyes but gestured Farris to continue. It was better to let him have his way in times like this.

“Thank you. So, to sum up, we know two things to be true: One, you should dedicate some of your time next year to helping your mother in the same way you did today. Two, you really really don’t want to do that. So how do we reconcile between what you should be doing and what you want to do? Simple, by giving you a better moral alternative that you would be happy doing. That’s where my plan comes in.”

“Wow. If only you could have spent the last couple of minutes telling me what your plan was instead of all this bullshit preamble.”

“Do you want to hear my plan or not?”

“Go ahead.”

“My plan is simple. Instead of spending next year wasting away between the palace, the Royal Academy or wherever it is that my sister decides to send you. You’re going to spend it in New Terra. In New Point Academy, to be exact, where, in your free time, you could take as many of their electives as you wish or just take some much deserved time off.”

“Why the fuck would I do that? No offense to the Terrans and the work you and Mom have been doing, but New Point is still not at the level of the Royal Academy, so, as much as I’d like to hang out with Yvessa, it’s not worth it. Besides, there’s no way that Mom would let me do it. Finishing my studies at a Terran institution would cause an even bigger political shit-storm than what you did yesterday.”

“Indeed... And what else?”

“What?”

“What is the other problem with my proposition?”

“Farris, for Christ’s sake, just tell me! Stop being so cryptic about this bullshit.”

“Fine, I’ll do it for you. The last problem with my suggestion is that it doesn’t resolve the moral conundrum that we started with. The moral thing to do (from a utilitarian’s perspective) would still be to help your mother, no matter whether you are here or on New Terra.”

“OK then… How do you solve this?”

“Do… Do you really not see where I’m going with this?”

“Must be because I’m not as smart as you are.”

“I don’t see what you having a superior intellect has to do with the discussion, your boasting aside.”

“Farris, just tell me!”

“It’s Sam alright?! I want you to tutor Sam!”

“Who’s Sam?”

“What do you mean ‘who’s Sam?’ Sam Anders, the Taken we were just talking about. The reason why I went to New Terra, whereupon meeting him, I made myself his mentor.”

“Holy shit, I completely forgot about that idiotic action of yours.” She massaged her temple with both her palms. “I still don’t understand why you had to go all the way to New Terra to meet him… And you made yourself his mentor, because of course you would. Couldn’t you have just waited until he came to study here and saved all of us this headache?”

“What are you talking about? Sam’s way too busy with his studies to have time to come visit me in Maynil. And that was before I became his mentor and we formed the same unbreakable bond that you and I have.”

“Wait, so he’s going to stay on New Terra?”

“Of course he is. You want to make his culture shock even deeper by sending him here and taking what little remained of his old home away from him? His new friends? Some of which are the only people in the Web who know what he’s going through.”

“But him staying on New Terra makes no sense! Not if you want to train him as a Thread-Weaver. There’s a reason why they send all of their Thread-Weavers to study here. If he’s staying there, then that means that you’re going to have to send somebody to teach him if you don’t want to his talent to go to waste. Wait! You said you wanted me to tutor him. You wanted me to be the one to teach him about threads because he’s too fragile to leave New Terra?! Is that it?”

“Oh now she get’s it. After she already had it plainly explained to her.”

“Are you insane? Do you realize how idiotic your plan is? You want me, a Princess of Sarechal, the person who is going to take over your job in the future, to be the personal instructor to some no-name Terran, as though our roles were reversed? That’s even worse than your initial suggestion of just going to New Point to finish my studies there. The Moonies are going to be apocalyptic, and for the first time, I could actually see where they are coming from.”

“Erianna Ninae, daughter of Lera and Jaril! Really! I would expect a bit more respect; a bit more sympathy for your new fellow mentee. And, by the way, your best friend’s new friend.”

“What? Yvessa didn’t mention anything about him. I spoke to her just two days ago.”

“I know. She told me that you didn’t tell her anything about me being on New Terra. I spoke to her just a day ago.”

“And obviously it makes sense… Yv made friends with Sarah Khan and she was the youngest Taken until this guy—”

“Still is. You should’ve said newest.”

“So from what Yv told me about her, she was probably quick to take him under her wings. But why wouldn’t Yv tell me about him? And why, oh why, for fuck’s sake, would you make this guy your mentee after just meeting him for the first time?”

“What can I say? I liked his vibe.”

“You liked his vibe? Are you serious? That’s it?”

“Are you already forgetting about the part where he is the only one of this kind twice over? Adult and Thread-Weaver?”

“Farris… Farris. I’m not trying to argue about the guy’s talents or potential for the future. I don’t know the guy. But until yesterday, neither did you, and you still decided to become his mentor based on that short introduction. Honestly? Yeah, he does have all it takes on paper to have someone like you mentor him. Hell, he even has better credentials than me. But you! You’re the one who annoyingly, no matter how much I asked you to stop, went around telling people that you only have one mentee because there is only one person who is good enough for you to mentor them. That it’s not just a matter of talents but also temperament, of will, and whatever other bullshit you spouted to try and embarrass me. So excuse me for expecting a different sort of answer than ‘good vibe’ as to why you decided to mentor the guy.”

“OK, first of all… can you please stop referencing to him as a ‘guy’ and start calling him by his name? You and Sam are going to be spending the at next year together. If not more; I told him that I’m eying him for the position of being your second in command. After all, what makes for a better team than the first Terran Chosen and the youngest elven one? And second of all, I’m not a moron, you know? I know how to read people, and the time I spent with Sam, plus the character analysis that the Terrans already made of him, was enough for me to decide that yes: his talents, together with his personality, make him good enough candidate for my mentorship. And lastly… I really like him. We had a good vibe going. Hell, his sense of humor is what caused me to want and personally meet him in the first place, otherwise I might have just sent someone to teach him threads without all this hassle.”

Erianna narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, look, for example, at his interview with the Maurice Giraud, mere hours after he was returned to New Terra. The good doctor asks him if he noticed any physical difference in his body, and Sam looks down at his pants and says, ‘Nope, still small.’ I’m butchering the joke a little, but you get the gist.”

This time, Erianna traced through her sword when she hit the top of Farris’ head with the blunt of it. Her uncle was, unfortunately, unmoved. “That’s it?! That’s it?! Just because of that one stupid joke, which is not that funny by the way, you decided to meet this Sam and also open the military summit with no notice. Are you insane?!”

“Hey! That’s a good joke. And it also had a second part, a day later, which means that it wasn’t a onetime fluke, and that’s really what Sam’s personality is like. Also, you have to remember that Sam comes from a different time than ours, when toxic masculinity was much more rampant. It takes a special kind of person to make that sort of joke.”

“What are you talking about? That’s like the most cliche joke for men to tell. Are you saying that he is also unique in being a Taken from a hundred years before the Integration happened?”

“No, I’m pretty sure that he grew up in their two-thousands, although he won’t outright admit when he was born. But still… Making that joke under duress, sticking to your guns when faced with a Ruler and making a follow-up, you have to respect a person for something like that.”

“No you don’t! And you certainly don’t have to go ahead and declare to the entire world that they are as good and talented as me by becoming his mentor.”

“I already told you that I only decided to become his mentor after meeting him face to face. It would have been irresponsible to judge someone based on just an excellent, multi-faceted joke that they had made.”

Erianna threw herself on the bench next to her uncle, taking half a minute to remember to fix her very unhealthy initial posture. She rubbed her eyes wearily. God, she loved her uncle, but sometimes he could be too much, even for her. The fact that everything that he did in the last twenty-four hours stemmed from a stupid small-dick joke, and that both things that came as a result were sure to cause political turbulence, caused a headache to start building in Erianna’s temple, very much like the one she was sure her mother was dealing with. “And how did Mom take your news of my new fellow mentee?”

“She was initially skeptic. But after I explained my reasoning, she came around.”

“She did?”

“Of course. Well, after I explained my whole line of thought. After all, without her agreement, I couldn’t send you to New Terra, now could I?”

“Are you serious? Mom agreed to your stupid plan of having me tutor this Sam guy about threads?”

“Why do you keep calling my plan stupid? It’s perfectly valid, and it takes care of both your problem and Sam’s. Matter of fact, I think you come off better than Sam does in it. You not only get out of your political obligations, but you also get to spend time with your best friend and visit New Terra in the flesh. And don’t try to act like this isn’t one of your dreams. Getting to immerse yourself in Terran culture.”

“OK, I’ll admit to wanting to visit New Terra, but not to your last point. I’m not like you. I just like old Terran culture, pre-Integration stuff. Every time Yvessa tried to get me to watch some new show or play a new game, I would get bored because it’s all the same stuff nowadays, elven and Terran.”

“Another point in your favor then, getting to hangout with someone who actually grew up during that time. I know that I very much enjoyed the short time that me and Sam had to speak about old Terran culture. Although he never did tell me what his favorite TV show is. You’ll have to ask him and relay it back to me.”

Erianna laughed. “I’m not going.”

“What? Why not? Give me one reason for you to object.”

“Alright. How about the political upheaval that me personally tutoring a person who’s older than me would cause, not just within the kingdom, but with the other nations as well?”

“Even if you’re assuming that’s a bad thing. Who cares? It’s all irrelevant in the long run when Sam proves himself to be just as good as you are. And it’s not like you would have to deal with it. Your mother would, and she agreed to the plan.”

“I still find it hard to believe that she did that.”

“Would I really lie about something that’s so easy to find out?”

“For a laugh, yes.”

“OK, I’ll admit that. But would I be trying to joke about something so serious as my new martial ward?”

“No… Which makes me scared that you are actually being serious about wanting me to teach him.”

“I am! I seriously believe that you would be the best person, or in running for the best person, to teach him about threads. And that everything else, like you getting to meet with Yvessa or getting away from politics, and Sam having another friend plus your personal help in tutoring him in other non-threads related matters (as his elder), is just a bonus. Which makes you becoming Sam’s teacher the best option. From a utilitarian’s viewpoint.”

“OK, I’m on board for the first two bonuses, but who’s saying that I’ll become his friend, or that I’ll want to help him with anything else?”

“It’s just possibilities. Things that could happen and it would be nice if they would. What’s the alternative? That I send Sam one of the few threads instructors we have that I think would be compatible with him and good enough to teach him? Those bastards aren’t going to spend more of their free time helping him study.”

“Yes they would! If that’s what you told them to do.”

“Maybe they would maybe they won’t, that’s not the main point. The point is that even my best candidates might not be as good for him as you are. The young ones will be too focused on reaching level 10 and the old ones will be too bitter about still not being level 10, but being forced to tutor someone who definitely will. Face it, personality wise, you are the best teacher I have available to me to send to Sam.”

“And knowledge wise? Or did you forget that I’m still learning this stuff myself and by sending me off to New Terra you’re basically forcing me to freeze my studies unless I get one of their Rulers to help me.”

Farris laughed. “Yeah, that not going to happen. You’re going to have to wait for their next rotation of Rulers. Or, do like a normal person and be satisfied with your current knowledge, which is more than enough to set you apart from any newly made Ruler. Face it, as far as theory goes, you already have more than enough. The only thing that could reliably give you a further combat edge is to train your Threadsight, and you don’t need any teachers to help with that. Besides, I promise to more than make up for your year of ‘academic abstention’ once The Muster begins, both by offering my help and other Rulers’.”

“You’re trying really hard to make this happen.”

“Which should only go to show you just how much of a good idea I believe this is. Honestly, I’m really struggling to understand why you’re pushing so hard against this. Is it about having to leave Maynil a year early? Is that it? You don’t want to leave home just yet?”

“Shut up. I’m against your plan for so many reasons, but homesickness isn’t one of them. Right now, the main reason is that I don’t believe that I am the best person to teach him, or anyone for that matter, about threads.”

“But you are. I’m not asking you to teach him anything complicated, just the stuff that I taught you before you even started the academy. Your foundation is more than enough to teach him that.”

“It still doesn’t make me the best teacher for him.”

“It does if you see your job as an extension of my duties toward him as his mentor. When looking from the perspective of his starting position, you are the closest to him in the entire Web, just with an eight years lead. Who’s better to teach a Taken about threads than a Thread-Weaver who has almost perfect pathways? You know exactly what he needs to learn and how he needs to train, because you’ve been where he is right now. And because I know you, I know that just like I taught you, you’d be able to teach him.”

Erianna chuckled. “So what’s this really about is throwing me your responsibility. You can’t teach this Sam personally, so you’re sending me to do it in your stead because for some reason you think that I’m the closest substitute for your teaching. It makes sense, I guess, in a twisted kind of way. That because I’m the only one that you personally taught that I’m the only one that you could trust to teach him.”

“Exactly. So will you do it?”

“No.”

“Ugh… Really?”

“No… maybe… I don’t know. I need to think about this. It’s a lot to take in.”

“What’s there to think about? Stop being a good person and focusing on Sam for a second and look at this from a selfish point of view. I promise you, that whatever harm your studies might take from transferring schools, it would be very minor and just as minor an endeavor to help you catch up in a year and a half. So, if that’s true, wouldn’t you rather spend the next year with your best friend, avoiding anything that even smells of politics and living your best life on the world with the best internet in the Web?”

“Sure, I suppose.”

“Then why not give this a go? Take a month as a trial period. Go to New Terra. Meet Sam, see how you get along with him both as a person and as a student, and then decide. If, for any reason, whether it’s because you don’t think you’re being a good teacher, you don’t get along with him or just plain homesickness, you decide that you want to come home, I’ll personally come and get you. How about it then?”

“I said that I’ll think about it. Why do I have to make a decision right now?”

“You know very well why when it comes to you. And if you happen to say no, then I want to get around to finding him another teacher as fast as possible. It’ll take some time to vet the candidates after all.”

“I’m still not going to give you my answer right now. I have to think about it.”

“Fine… How long will you need? A week?”

“Sure, a week will be fine. I’ll want to talk with Yv anyway, and I have a call with her scheduled in a couple of days.”

“You’re not going to tell her what we talked about, right?”

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Why? Just think about. She didn’t tell you about Sam at all. Wouldn’t you like to get her back by keeping this a secret?”

“No! We’re friends. Those are completely different things.”

“Fine, but consider this. If you tell her, then what are the chances that she won’t tell Sam, or tell someone else so that this will eventually get back to Sam?”

“I don’t know… zero percent.”

“Exactly!”

“Exactly what?”

“We can’t let Sam know about this. It would ruin the surprise!”

“Why is surprising him even a part of the equation?”

“Cause it’s funny.”

“Really? That’s all you got, that it’s funny?”

“What? Not good enough for you? OK, so how about this? If you truly want to judge Sam for yourself, then wouldn’t you rather drop on him without notice, instead of giving him time to prepare for a meeting with you?”

“What is he, some kind of mastermind sociopath?”

“C’mon! Just give me this one tiny thing.”

“I’m already giving you going to New Terra to help your new mentee. That’s a pretty big thing.”

“It doesn’t count because you’re also better off going to New Terra. By the way, I’m glad that we didn’t need to wait the whole week after all for you to come to a decision.”

Erianna shook her head with a laugh. “You’re unbearable… Fine, I promise not to tell Yvessa about me potentially coming to New Terra next year. But I am going to ask her about this Sam person before I make a decision, because you made it clear that you are far from an unbiased source.”

“What’s unbiased? I just think that he’s a great guy, funny, smart, of good moral character. And that he’s going to be the prophesied hero who will carry us all to victory.”

“You, verbatim, said the same thing about me when you announced that you were my mentor eight years ago.”

“The Web’s a big place. We can have two chosen-one heroes. Write it down: In ten years’ time, it will be Erianna Ninae and Sam Anders, saviors of the Web!”