Dreams came intermittently but rhythmically, following the ancient pattern of sleep. They rose up through Aarick’s mind like boiling water, brought up to the surface from the depths and then lost once more as they drifted back beneath.

It was a peaceful sleep, with normal dreams, and soon enough morning came to the valley once more. A valley he had yet to even see.

Aarick only became cognizant of the morning when a brief knock roused him from his slumber.

His thoughts were fuzzy with cast off sleep, but he was able to mutter a single, “One minute!”

He stumbled out of bed, his thoughts beginning their slow return to clarity, and quickly checked himself over. The robe was fine, nothing obviously wrong with it or out of place. So, with a few quick steps, he went over and blearily opened the door.

The attendant was outside, and Aarick hazily tried to remember his name.

“Good morning, sir!” he said, with far too much cheer.

“What... time is it?” Aarick said, with a yawn.

“Two hours past dawn, sir.” the man said, “I let you sleep in.”

He decided not to dignify that insult to common decency with a response. He wanted to ask for coffee, but the word had no matching translation.

Knew there had to be something wrong with this world. No coffee and early mornings.

“I need breakfast, and something to wake me up…”

Other bodily needs made themselves known.

“Right after I use the bathroom. Excuse me a moment.”

Aarick turned away from his obnoxiously cheery servant and toward the bathroom. After a few minutes, he reemerged, slightly more prepared to face the day.

“Please follow me, sir. Lurona has arranged for you to begin your studies today, so we have a busy schedule.”

He followed him out of the room, heading down the hall and into a relatively small room. A wooden table in the middle made the room’s purpose obvious, and pale golden legs peaked out underneath a deep green tablecloth embroidered with intricate patterns in silver thread.

As he got closer and saw the gleam of the silver, Aarick thought it might be literal silver thread.

How would you keep silver thread from tarnishing? Some kind of alloy, probably.

God, I need to ask his name.

“I don’t believe I got your name earlier,” he said.

With a bow, he introduced himself.

“No, sir. I am Imperial Servant Reodan Charel. It is my pleasure to serve you.”

“Ah, thank you, Reodan. Am I supposed to do a formal introduction?”

“Yes, sir, that would be appropriate.”

Aarick bowed his head, uncertain of the exact amount that was appropriate.

Probably better to go a bit deeper than Lurona bowed to me.

“I, Aarick Perdita, welcome you into my presence.”

Reodan lifted a finger.

“Ah, no need to repeat the introduction, sir, but technically you should have welcomed me into your service. You will want to do that with your tutors. Never fear, your etiquette teacher will help you get all of that squared away.”

Oh joy.

“I… am grateful for the chance to learn,” he replied.

Technically a true statement, especially since I didn’t specify what I want to learn.

Reodan’s eyes glimmered with suppressed amusement, though none of it carried through to his voice as he pulled out a chair.

“If you care to sit, sir?”

He sat, the cushion more comfortable than it looked.

In a literal blur of motion, and from no discernible source, Reodan produced breakfast, and the smell hit him with incredible force.

Multiple dishes spread in easy reach on the table, and both a plate and bowl were in front of him. Reodan produced a platter with a dizzying array of flatware, allowing him to choose whatever options he wanted.

Aarick decided to settle on something comfortable and easy, for now, picking out a fork, soup spoon, and a both a butter and serrated knife.

“These should be sufficient, thank you,” he said.

The array of possible options for breakfast was highly varied.

They ranged from a stir fried rice, featuring peppers, cilantro, and beans, and topped with cubes of avocado, to congee, to a plain yogurt with a number of possible mix-ins, including fresh and dried fruits, nuts, honey, some type of granola, as well as more savory mixes of spices, stewed onions, and more. There were several different types of just bread, ranging from sticks of fried dough, a boiled bread similar to bagel or pretzel, slices of a dark molasses bread, and even including a delicate pastry that reminded him of a cheese stuffed croissant.

Fortunately, it was accompanied with a strong tea.

Drowning the tea with honey, Aarick started with the tea, and sighed as he took a sip that was just short of scalding.

The strong scent and flavor of the tea helped him wake up.

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He closed his eyes and hummed to himself with happiness.

Perfect.

After that, he devoted himself to the serious endeavor of breakfast. Everything he ate was fantastic, though some of the flavors were new to him.

He particularly liked a syrup with a delicate floral flavor that he tried with a bit of yogurt.

That would be fantastic on pancakes. Do they make pancakes here?

He ate far more than he thought he should. Far more than he even thought he could.

Where the hell is all this food even going? I’m eating more than should be possible. I’ve never been this hungry in my life. What the fuck is going on?

Despite what he might have thought about it, once he started, his body refused to be satiated. It demanded that he eat. It was a primal cry of need. There was something in the food that was quenching a thirst he didn’t know he even had.

Reodan just watched, an enigmatic smile on his face.

He only stopped when everything on the table had been consumed.

Aarick looked directly at Reodan before speaking.

“What the hell just happened? I should not have been able to eat this much food.”

“Yes, sir.” Reodan said, “Lurona told me your soul was starving by the time she interrupted the ritual.”

Ah yes, a technically correct statement.

Reodan continued, ignorant of his sarcastic thoughts.

“That being the case, she was kind enough to arrange for qi rich food,” he paused for a moment. “I don’t have any personal experience, sir, but I understand having that degree of qi liberated from your body and soul is extremely taxing.”

“Yes,” Aarick replied, “I can safely say that yesterday was exhausting. However, even with me needing the qi, where did all the food actually go?”

Reodan’s brow furrowed.

“Ah, sir. I see you still don’t understand. A large amount of the food was directly made of qi structures. Your cultivation has… diminished, so your body has no where to store extra qi, but your soul would have broken down the qi structures and absorbed the qi directly.”

I would say that makes no sense, except I just make a ridiculous amount of food disappear. Not sure how qi can make up a physical structure, but whatever…

Reodan must have seen my confusion.

“Don’t worry, sir. Your tutors will help you to understand all your questions.”

I will be pleasantly surprised if that’s true.

“Would you like me to offer a tour of your rooms, Sir?” he asked.

“Yes, Reodan, that would be appreciated.”

Reodan brought him back out into the hall and almost to his suite’s entrance, opening a set of double doors.

Inside, a perfectly rectangular wooden table sat between three couches. None of the couches looked particularly comfortable, each composed of their own rigid lines. They were beautiful, but the padding looked like a formality, rather than something that was supposed to be comfortable.

Against the walls were paintings and small tables with art pieces. Even the art looked harsh, however. Only the light gave a hint of welcome to the room.

He entered the room with some trepidation. It didn’t get any better on a closer inspection. The padding was stiff beneath his fingers when he gave it a testing push.

“Glad it isn’t all like this,” he muttered.

Not exactly a comfortable room, is it? Thank god my room is comfortable.

“Yes, sir,” said the attendant with the faintest hint of a smile. “Agent Lurona deemed it unlikely you would need a full audience chamber, so your rooms do not include one. If that proves to be necessary in the future, the situation will be remedied. This formal sitting room should prove sufficient if you need to greet any of your peers, or entertain your lessors. There is also a formal dining room for more extended discussions.”

Yep, definitely some hints of a caste system here. In case the whole nobility thing wasn’t clear enough already. Though I suppose it could be more like the British system, where much of the nobility is merely a formality. Doesn’t seem likely so far though.

Reodan swept past him, closing the doors behind Aarick as he left in a motion so smooth he almost didn’t catch it.

“If you would follow me, sir.” It was phrased as a question, but none of that carried through in his tone. It felt closer to a command, even if it was a precisely polite one.

Aarick followed him through the hallway to the next room, feeling somewhat amused.

The next room proved to be the formal dining room, which was almost as bad as the sitting room. The chairs at least resembled something a human might actually want to sit on, even if the overly large table and equally large distance between each diner would absolutely contribute to the formal atmosphere.

After that it got better.

There were a multitude of rooms for just about any purpose he could think of. There was a less formal version of the dining room, in addition to the personal dining room he had already used, and a more comfortable and intimate sitting room. The plush couches in that sitting room were actually comfortable. He sat down to check. The arrangements were also less rigid. He had needed to tell Reodan to wait a moment before moving on, making sure he would actually be comfortable.

There was a room specifically for meditation, which made his skin itch. His newfound sense of qi touch was insisting that there was something in the air. Which, he supposed, made sense. He was probably sensing qi. A quick inquiry confirmed that the set of glowing lines covering the floor was designed to concentrate qi to make it easier to cultivate.

The library immediately caught his attention, though it actually contained few books or scrolls. Instead it mostly consisted of some comfortable chairs and some less comfortable, but eminently practical, desks where one could take notes while reading. The main feature of the library was a large glowing book. It contained a vast list of books and scrolls, each of which could be borrowed from the archive. Each listed item had a brief accompanying description. After a few dozen pages the words turned fuzzy. As he squinted at them, his head started to hurt.

“Is something wrong with this text, or is it just me?” he asked.

“No, sir. Your current access to the archive is set at level one.” Reodan replied. “Anything past that has been obscured.”

He just nodded in response.

Fair enough. I don’t know enough to even know what I should start with. At least this lowers the amount I need to go through.

And Aarick was going to go through the available texts. Knowledge was absolutely power, perhaps literally with enlightenments added into the mix, and he had a definite deficit of knowledge about this world.

The rooms continued, with more options than he thought necessary. Did anyone really need a room just to drink tea in. It was a perfectly lovely room, with green plants growing in bunches and tangles around the periphery. There were no flowering plants, which according to Reodan, was so they wouldn’t conflict with the delicate flavors of any tea.

They take their tea very seriously.

A marshal training room had numerous weapons set into holders in the walls. Some of them were blunted and obviously practice weapons, but some were decidedly not. Their sharp edges gleamed in the light.

The room, large though it was, wasn’t large enough to practice proper archery, which made Aarick slightly disappointed.

Ah yes, how quickly I get used to this excess. I’m so disappointed there isn’t a full size archery range inside my personal rooms.

Woe is me. How will I ever manage with such squalor?

I’ll eat these slippers if there isn’t a proper training ground close by. Considering that a training room is just part of the normal set of rooms, I think combat is highly valued here.

Aarick laughed to himself at his own thoughts, though nothing but a quiet chuckle escaped.

“If you will join me for the last room, sir.” Reodan motioned toward a set of double doors set into the end of the hall. “The viewing room.”