Zan woke up early. He did not think he got much sleep. What he got, though, was more than enough. He had a lot to do today and wanted to get it done.

He went into the kitchen for breakfast but found nothing. Jiehong remained asleep. Looking outside through one of the tiny basement windows, he saw the lightest touches of daybreak.

Confused where his breakfast was, Zan asked to the ceiling, “Screen Master? You there? Where is the chef?”

“Good morning, Zan. He is on his way now. Apologies for the interruption. There was a big argument in the camp last night and it created some disturbances for him. The issue has since found a resolution,” the Screen Master replied.

Zan didn’t know what to think about an altercation in his camp. “Is the altercation because of people spreading away from the camp?” Zan asked.

“Partially, yes. Some want everyone to stay within the defended perimeter. Others wish to spread out and risk travel to more plentiful zones.”

Just as the Screen Master finished his sentence, the chef came into the kitchen. “Sorry I am late, mis ami, traffic, you understand!” the chef, Jean Paul-Paul (the Fourth) said jokingly.

Zan placed his order, and Jiehong’s order, and made small talk with the chef.

“So… ‘the fourth,’” Zan asked. “Are you close to your father?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Jean Paul-Paul (the Fourth) said. “he and I are as different as can be. He is a man’s man, and I? Well, the culinary arts are not what he would consider a ‘real job,’ as he likes to say.”

“I’m sorry. I never knew my parents, if that helps,” Zan said.

Finishing egg-slipping, Jean Paul-Paul (the Fourth) said, “You know, boo. It does help. A little, anyway. Okay, here is your breakfast and here is another for your friend. I have to get going to my other jobs! Have a delightful day!”

The chef left the kitchen and Zan soon after, as he scarfed his food down with his typical ‘young male’ energy way. Leaving the kitchen, he encountered Jiehong, who had only left his room.

“Morning, buddy!” Zan said. “I just finished my breakfast. I had the chef prepare you a plate as well. I am heading outside to begin however much familiarization we have left with our bikes before we shove off for Feathervale. Oh! And before I forget, big news! I won’t keep you, though. Come out when you’re done eating. I have to go get dressed.”

Still tired, Jiehong nodded. He entered the kitchen as Zan entered his personal chambers. He stripped off his belabored bed ware, changed into a clean pair of undergarments, only his second pair in all of his possessions, and dressed his skin in his war-ware. Prepared for the day, he left his room and exited the command center.

Outside, everything looked the same. Unchanged from the previous night where, supposedly, there had been a major altercation between the denizens of the camp.

Zan walked slowly through the camp. It was early in the morning. Few people were up, let alone out and starting their day. Aside from Jean Paul-Paul (the Fourth), evidently.

With the camp, then, the same as ever, no one to talk to, and nothing left to do except go outside the camp’s limits and practice with his bike — attached to his back — Zan did just that. He walked to where he and Jiehong practiced yesterday.

Removing the bike from his back, Zan unfolded it, locking all the mechanisms into place. He didn’t know what would happen if all the pieces weren’t in place when he tried to use the bike, but nothing good, surely. Not that it mattered, he thought. I doubt this thing would even function if the pieces weren’t where they needed.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Starting out on flat ground, Zan rode.

A nice and smooth ride. By now, the speed of the bike was something which, although would still take a while to fully adjust to, Zan was well on his way to such a change.

Naturally higher by a great deal than any community bike, Zan found the speed pleasing. It had taken his brain a while to adjust to the speeds, as it meant he had less analyzing time while on the bike. But the experience came quick to Zan.

At least on flat ground.

Riding to the rougher terrain, the moment his bike crossed the threshold between ‘smooth and flat’ to ‘rough and uneven,’ the bike nearly threw Zan to the godly earth.

But he was not thrown. Zan remained seated and remained peddling, though at a slower rate than before. Which was the point of the practice yesterday — to become better.

Zan continued to practice biking in circles and other shapes for over an hour.

Jiehong eventually came to the practice field.

“Took you long enough,” Zan shouted, though not angrily.

“Sorry. I was really hungry, so I had to call over the chef guy for another round of food. Then I bogged myself down with talking to people. Some kind of fight last night? Anyway, I’m all business now.”

“Oh!” Zan said, surprised at Jiehong’s good answer. “I heard about the altercation from the Screen Master. I don’t have the details, though. He said it is finished, now, though, so I don’t think we need to worry over it.”

“I agree. I was only getting snippets and shit from people. Sounds like a few guys might have had too much of the homebrews and talked some crap. Whatever. Happens to everyone,” Jiehong said.

“Not me…” Zan said.

“Not you, sure. But people aren’t you, buddy! So, what have you been doing? Just practicing?”

“Uh… yeah, no. Just practicing. I’m getting better at the rough ground. Still tricky,” Zan said, thinking over Jiehong’s comment about not everyone being him. What was that supposed to mean?

Whatever it meant, Zan was sure it meant nothing. Anyway, the issue could not continue. Jiehong went off in his own space to continue practicing with his own bike. Zan did not want to interrupt him by talking through his earpiece.

So Zan returned his attention to his own training.

Biking: and the practice it demanded.

An hour and ninety minutes later, Zan thought he had gotten in enough of his relentless riding back and forth on rough ground. He might not have mastered uneven ground, but he learned enough muscle memory to know when to speed up and when to slow down, along with, for the time being, how fast he should go when the going got rough. With still a good deal of the morning left before they needed to prepare on their journey back to Feathervale, Zan biked further away from the command center. He wanted to train on the roughest patch of ground still close to the command center. Here, the ground’s unevenness led to ditches and gnarly barbed plants. Pebbles, rocks, and even puddles dotted the surface, which sometimes led to harsh wipeouts, where the weight of Zan’s incompetence flung him off his bike after the wheel hit an unusually deep puddle.

It was here, Zan knew, where his mastery of the bike would happen. Well, here and on the battlefield, Zan added.

Zan practiced. Which, as he found out, was less ‘riding’ of the bike and more looking at where he was going. Essentially, Zan had to look ‘ahead’ so many seconds, which encapsulated so much distance, and then look around, plot a path instantly in his head, followed by carefully, and at a certain speed, biking to the destination. And then do the whole process again. And again.

Practicing intently, as was Zan’s default state, he realized after only twenty minutes how mentally draining it was. It took a lot for him to process so much of the surrounding stuff, understand if it would throw his biking off, which often necessitated biking through it to gain first-hand experience on the matter, and then correct his course, his actual use of the bike.

Doing this was also slow. Real slow.

Zan tried to stick to the relatively more open spaces of the land so he could easily peddle, but every so often, he dipped his toes into the difficult sections. A huge time-sink in itself since this section, filled to the brim with thorny plants, was nearly unpassable. Though Zan still tried simply to improve himself. Which all took slow practice. Patience, Zan thanked the gods, was a strong suit of his.

A ring in his earpiece. “I’m going on a break. You said you had news for me?” Jiehong said.

“Yes! I am going on a break now, myself. I will tell you about it in person. Where should we meet?”

Meeting over by the perimeter — the smooth ground — Zan felt immensely better about his practicing once he felt the transition between hard, rough, and smooth ground. Oh, yeah, it’s all coming together! Zan thought at feeling the change in his body’s demeanor once he crossed over to the ‘rough’ ground and found much less trouble than even earlier in the morning.

Skidding to a halt, though by mere accident, Zan hopped off and met Jiehong for a much-needed water break. Gulping-Down-Swigs-of-Water later, and Zan told Jiehong, “So! I found a translator!”