It was good to observe others in their efforts. Not for fun or to mock the failures of another. But to see if the way someone else does the same thing that you do would be a more optimal way of doing things.

Yviev had his code, so of course he ought to see how she manages to use it; maybe she would be more successful with it than he was, maybe less so, maybe she would improve it some way, and through this, Kanrel would learn something new and useful.

After many failures and a considerable cleaning effort from Kanrel, Yviev finally managed to lift the chair for a mere centimeter for just the tiniest of moments; it was more like the piece of furniture had a slight spasm for no particular reason.

The will of the chair was strong; it would not be commanded by amateurs so easily.

"What am I doing wrong?" She asked while staring at the defiant chair, the inanimate object that refused to bend to her will.

"I suppose the code is wrong, or rather, not suited for you. Perhaps you’re just doing it wrong, but that I doubt; the code is too simple for that to happen." Kanrel pondered out loud.

"You might want to start from the beginning and try to come up with your own code through trial and error." He then added.

Yviev shifted her stare from the chair to him and asked, "Are you mocking me?" She asked flatly.

"Not intentionally."

"What about unintentionally?"

"Perhaps."

Yviev conjured the most unnatural smile to her face, and she then said, "I forgive you, but only if you buy me dinner; I’ve heard that your mother is quite wealthy."

"Perhaps ‘perhaps’ might’ve been the incorrect choice as a reply; but sure, I’ll humor you." Without waiting for her, he took his notebook and left the hall and her behind. She soon followed suit, still holding that unnatural smile on her face.

On the eastern side of the campus, Yviev took the lead, and she led them up to the upper levels, where there would be the most high-end, most lavish, and most pretentious restaurants, which were visited only by the most rich, spoiled, and pretentious.

Kanrel prepared himself for a miserable experience: food that would have a taste, but the taste would be one that he wouldn’t be able to enjoy. The loss of money, which he did have but really didn’t want to part ways with. Having money would not bring him happiness, but having less of it would make anyone feel like shit.

Kanrel should’ve known that her demand would be a trap; she looked petty, her smile was even more petty, her words were petty, and she smelled petty.

Or... she was just out of touch, one of those spoiled nobles that only ate at the nicest restaurants.

It was too early for him to make a correct assessment of her former personality and emotional framework, which would have formed her habits and dictated the choices she would make.

He couldn’t wait to find out.

The restaurant Yviev chose wasn’t just lavish; it looked like every inch of its interior cost more money to craft and furnish than what an average family makes in this kingdom in a year. So it was probably beautiful. And he might’ve enjoyed dining here if it weren’t for certain changes that had happened to him.

A tall waiter led them to a table for two; there he even helped them sit down.

It was quite surprising that they were even allowed in, considering the ashy clothes and the possible smell that they might’ve been emitting. All in all, they looked quite poor, especially Kanrel, who had spent a lot of time rolling in a puddle of water.

But then again, they were in an academy that seldom let outsiders in; it was also an academy "for the privileged", and not to mention they wore the school uniforms of novice priests. So why even bother arguing about their wealth, or lack thereof?

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

The waiter then brought them a complimentary bottle of wine, the menu, which held such wonderous cuisines as snails, and another bottle of even more expensive wine.

"What does one order in a place like this?" Kanrel asked his company, who was studying her own menu.

"I’ve no idea, but steak sounds good."

Kanrel couldn’t help but stare at her for a moment longer than he usually would have.

"I would like to change my answers: unintentionally into intentionally, and perhaps into certainly."

Yviev conjured another fake smile on her face. She then looked for the waiter, who just so happened to be walking toward their table. In his hands, he had a waiter's notepad and a pencil.

"We are ready to order," Yviev announced, keeping her smile up. She then began reciting her order: "We would like two stakes and two bottles of the most expensive wine that you might have in this fine establishment."

The waiter rapidly wrote down the given order and asked, "Anything for you, sir?"

Kanrel just stared blankly at the creature that sat across him and said, "That is quite enough; she ordered for me as well." The waiter then excused himself while Kanrel began to furiously look for the prices of the things that Yviev had just ordered. His heart sank as he added their prices together.

Indeed, money wouldn’t make him happier, but losing so much at once sure made him feel like shit.

"You really couldn’t just accept my apology?"

"I did accept it, and I would’ve been fine with any restaurant. You, for some unknown reason, chose not to pick one, so I picked one for us—one that I thought would be most suitable for your taste, ‘o great son of the herald."

Kanrel kept staring at her, and he found no words. All this for just a few words. Life kept being unfair for no good reason.

"Relax, I’ll pay." Yviev said, "I am just trying to enjoy something I used to enjoy before, to no avail."

"I see. So I assume that you used to enjoy teasing others?"

"Well, yes. But I also enjoyed lying to others; now that is fun. Well, it was fun." Yviev, for the first time, looked visibly distressed—sad even. Before, she had looked like something was missing; now one could see that she knew that something was missing—something was taken.

"What about food?" Kanrel asked.

"I used to love food—well, not the food one can eat in these fancy restaurants; of them, I’ve no recollection. Now the cafeteria downstairs has top-notch food, the best food I’ve ever had the pleasure of eating."

"Sadly, the previous time I ate there, it was less than desirable. Do you happen to know what ash tastes like?" She asked.

"Funny you should ask that; recently I’ve been in contact with lots of ash, and by accident, I’ve had a taste here and there. Not my favorite, but it didn’t much differ from the food I’ve eaten at the cafeteria as of late."

Yviev let out a long sigh. "I think I would’ve loved to talk to you before. You, at times, say things that some might consider slightly amusing."

"Why thank you, but I doubt I would’ve loved talking with you."

"That is almost insulting," Yviev said, faking outrage. "Care to elaborate? No, wait. I already know the answer. Is it something to do with being a geek who refuses to talk with others, who refuses to even acknowledge others, who refuses to even say ‘hi’ to a fellow novice in the hallway?"

"Exactly. It would seem that you know more about me than I know about you."

In that moment, the food and wine arrived: two stakes and two bottles of the most expensive wine that were served in this fine establishment. Now that Kanrel had eyed the stake, he realized how dumb their order had been; there really wasn’t much to eat—just a steak. Sure, it looked juicy; it looked like something anyone would love to eat.

"Can you really afford this?" Kanrel asked, just in case.

"Perhaps," Yviev answered with a fake smile on her face and began devouring the poor stake before her.

After a long sigh, Kanrel joined her, hoping in the back of his mind that he would not have to be the one to pay for their dinner. He even poured a glass of wine for himself; it was his first time with anything that contained even the slightest amount of alcohol in it.

At the cafeteria, something like that was never offered.

He did wonder how it would affect him, what it would taste like, and if he would be able to get drunk in the future.

After a disappointing first sip, Kanrel decided not to bother and stuck to drinking water; at least there was no afterburn.

They ate in silence, and when it came to paying for the bill, Yviev kept her word and paid for everything. They then left the restaurant, and soon they found themselves in the library on the first floor.

There, Kanrel suggested numerous books that might help Yviev in her quest to lift a chair—books about coding and magic in general. He even decided to share some of his own thoughts about coding and the visualization of magic.

He also borrowed a few books for himself to study later on.

They parted ways at the door to his room, as hers was two doors down from his. He carefully locked his door, put his things aside, and opened the book, whose last words were, "Now there is nothing but thirst, which will never be quenched."

He turned another page and wrote down all the information that he had learned about Yviev: her name, her height, what she looked like, how she spoke, everything that he could recall.

Then he wrote as follows:

It might be that I never experienced what it feels like to have a friend, and it is most definitely true that I will never experience such a feeling, but I might as well try to make a friend. The fact that it is impossible for me to enjoy things doesn't mean that I wouldn't be able to learn to care about people.

Perhaps I might form a rational sense of enjoyment; I might not truly feel it, but I might make an educational guess on whether I would have enjoyed something or another.

It might be that all I feel is despair, but at least I'd have something to do while in despair.