Luxley waited patiently for Zan to come. He sat in a chair at the foot of his bed, patiently awaiting the time when his long-distance buddy would appear on his bed.

Next to him was an elaborate outfit he had spent many hours feverishly working on. He hoped his friend appreciated the effort.

Seeing the air distort, curl in upon itself, like the hot summer heatwaves suddenly forming a whirlpool, Luxley saw Zan step out from the mystifying portal.

“Hey, bud!” Zan said. “Ain’t it different? Me not huddling for fear in your closet?”

Luxley smiled. “Maybe a little.”

Stepping onto the floor, Zan didn’t waste time. He removed his satchel — a nice personal bag made from strange leathers, Luxley observed — and removed a sheet of paper.

“Here you are, my friend,” Zan said, handing Luxley a sheet with odd letters.

Luxley examined the sheet. It was the Old Tongue Script all right.

Zan continued, “Do you think this is something you can do? Now that you have the actual script before you, is a week still a good estimate?”

Luxley parsed his lips, thinking. “I think so. This list is not a poem or a piece of literature from that time period. It is only a list of locations. Translation can be a tricky affair, but considering the list, and how badly you need it, I will ask for help from one of my tutors if something comes up.”

Smiling brightly enough to warm Luxley’s heart, Zan’s face belayed his emotion with nothing hidden. Luxley liked it when he could make people happy. Thus, he was happy.

“I’ll put this at the top of my agenda, then,” Luxley said, placing the paper over on his desk.

“Awesome! Where should I be?” Zan asked.

Be? “Oh, you aren’t going back home?” Luxley asked.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I assumed I would stay. Watch you translate… but then again. If it is going to take a week, you probably don’t want me hanging around for a week. Saying this out loud, I can’t spend a week here, anyway. My allies and friend would have a panic attack wondering what happened to me!”

“Understandable! On both your ends. If you wanted to stay for a while, you could,” Luxley told Zan.

“I would like that. I’ve been doing nothing but campaigning, so letting my hair down would be sweet.”

“Hair… down?” Luxley asked.

“Just an expression. It means ‘to relax,’” Zan explained.

“Cool… oh! Before I forget. Costumes! I finished your disguise,” Luxley said, suddenly thinking of the one means he figured would give Zan some cover.

“Cool. What did you settle on? You seemed pretty excited when we last talked about it.”

Luxley brought Zan over to the trunk by the foot of the bed, the same trunk he had once attempted shock humor upon to draw a hiding Zan away from the closet. Opening the trunk, he withdrew a colorful outfit with many festive icons, patches, and even a bell-looking contraption or two stitched into its fabric.

“Whoa, what is it?” Zan asked.

“This is the garb of a Mid-Born… a Mid-Born with a fashion sense.”

Zan looked confused. “Mid-born?” he repeated.

Luxley explained: “Mid-Borns are the middle class of my country. Well, the middle class within the aristocracy, anyway. Humble people, everything considered. You posing as one of them makes the most sense. Mid-Borns often act as specialized tutors to the High-Borns. People like me. Hence, you will be my tutor.”

Looking over the garment, Zan looked impressed. Many an ‘ooh!’ and a ‘ah!’ came from his between his lips. Rushing into the closet to change in private, Zan then asked, “If I am going to act as your tutor, what am I going to tutor you in?”

Before Zan asked his question, Luxley thought he knew his plan.

Now, he didn’t know his plan.

“Oh… actually, I didn’t think of that part. Crap. Crap!” he replied, frantic.

Zan said nothing more until he came out of the closet. “How do I look?”

Looking at his friend’s appearance, Luxley said, “You look like a royal strawberry.”

“Is that good?”

“It’s excellent!”

While Zan spun, showing off his whole body like a youth at a dance, Luxley thought of what Zan could be his tutor at: “How about you teach me what it is like being from your country?”

Instantly, Zan’s expression soured. “I couldn’t actually tell you.”

“Why? Don’t you trust me?” Luxley replied.

“No. I do. It’s just… well, I don’t really know much about my home. I’ve spent my whole life in a village. I hardly know anything about how my country is run or who runs it. There is a rebel faction causing issues and I, for the life of me, can’t understand what the issue is or why they are bad. I just don’t understand things.”

“I don’t understand things either and I am, well, me! We’re just two ignorance peas in an unknown pod…” Luxley said while continuing to look over Zan. He looked good. Shapley, even. Like a boy, one could take to a dance.

Zan said little. He smiled, looked about the room. If Luxley had known none better, he would have thought Zan intoxicated. But he knew Zan wasn’t. Zan was thrilled to be here, taking in the sight of Luxley’s room once more. Both of them enjoyed one another’s company. Luxley patted the side of his bed and invited Zan to sit.

Acquiescing, Zan sat down. “So comfy!” he said with the eagerness of a child.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“It is cozy. You don’t have anything like this back where you live?” Luxley asked.

“Feck no! My bed is a mattress in a weird basement with a rusty metal door.”

“Sounds awful.”

“It isn’t as bad as it sounds. Wanna know what is bad? That bed is the best bed I’ve ever had!”

Luxley couldn’t even comprehend. “If that is the best bed you’ve ever had, then you’ve must’ve slept on a blanket on the floor! This can’t be, Zan. Someone of your stature.

Surely, you’re pulling my chain!”

“I’m a lowly born kid, Luxley. Had it not been for Jiehong’s parents, I would have spent my life outside. Probably dead.”

“Jiehong is your other friend? Your first and best?” Luxley asked.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Does he treat you well? His parents clearly didn’t if they never gave you a proper sleeping area; and, of course, sometimes it is tough taking in an unexpectant mouth. Did they treat you and he the same?”

“No… they didn’t. We actually had a fight over this not so long ago. Now they’re living in some underground bunker with other rich people. Or something. I don’t know if Jie is telling the truth. It all seems to weird.”

“Sounds weird…”

Continuing to sit in silence, Luxley wanted to provide as much aid as possible to his new friend. It was really his first proper visit. He wanted everything to go right.

Yet… what could go right when he had forgotten the most important part of the disguise?! How could things go right when Luxley didn’t even have the first and most important, obvious, layer of why Zan would be he, what Zan would tutor him in?!

Luxley continued to dwell on the matter. ‘Zan would not need to know an immensity,’ Luxley thought. Luxley knew Zan would need to know only enough to surmount the limited scrutiny thrown his way. Questions from aides, inquiries from other tutors, his family’s nosiness. Luxley became lost in thought; so lost, he hardly noticed Zan’s drooping head coming to rest on his shoulders.

Noticing suddenly the intense smell of his buddy, Luxley shook off Zan’s sleepy body and said, “Sorry, but at the risk of sounding disrespectful — oh boy, you stink!”

Zan shot right up. “Stink? Like, smelly?”

“Yeah. When was the last time you bathed?” Luxley asked.

“Uh… I guess it has been a while.”

“I have a private washroom. Strip out of the disguise and get yourself cleaned up. Our efforts to disguise you will come apart right away if the people here take one whiff of your gross odor; Mid-Borns are not dirty people, Zan. I will continue to think of something you could theoretically tutor me in as you bathe. We can speak through the door,” Luxley said, directing Zan toward his private washroom.

Luxley got the water going for Zan and showed him all the fancy soaps and cleaners he had known throughout his whole life. It all took aback Zan, and he asked a million questions about everything. Luxley answered dutifully, surprised repeatedly at what Zan did not know. Though, why should it surprise him? If he was Low-Born, then of course the many things he would take for granted Zan would not know. They came from two different social classes, two different worlds.

Finally, though, the questions ceased. The bath water finished drawing, and with bubbles and pleasant scents filling the air, Zan lowered himself into the tub — or dived in with a splash; being on the outside of the door, Luxley only heard the ‘splash.’

Throughout the duration of Zan’s cleansing, they made small talk about a number of topics. None of the topics were anything more than basic ‘what do you like to eat?’ types of questions. And even then, Zan’s responses centered on ‘whatever is put in front of me by my Order’s chef.’ Vapid conversation gave Luxley the time he needed to muse more on what pretend occupation Zan should come from, what he might pull off as a disguise.

“So, buddy… thinking on what you could teach me, are you good at math?” Luxley asked of Zan.

“I wouldn’t know. Never been taught it. I know the basic numbers, if that’s what you mean…” Zan replied, a gentle sound of scrubbing heard.

Luxley crossed that off from his list.

“How about religion? Surely, the priest of your village taught you something? Maybe old folklore or some-as-such?”

“Sorry. We didn’t have a full-time priest. There was a traveling priest who went among the many small communities of the area, including my village, but he only ever preached the generic codes on how to live. He hated folklore. I only recently found out about Holy Law and the no-killing stuff.”

Grunting softly, Luxley crossed out another potential from his ever-shortening list.

“How about…” Luxley wanted to say ‘martial matters,’ but would anyone believe him? And besides, if Luxley wanted to learn skills of self-defense and offense, there would be many professional tutors available to him, tutors who could actually teach him things of note.

“Okay, what do you know, man?” Luxley asked.

“I uh… am a good person?” Zan said.

A good person? Was anyone truly good?

“Do you think you could wax eloquently on that on a wide matter of subjects you barely know about and only from the thinnest context?” Luxley asked.

“W-what?” Zan said, stopping his scrubbing.

“Like… could you roughhouse your way through whatever questions were asked of you pertaining to ethics and morality if you had a little bit to go on?” Luxley attempted to clarify, but to little end. Luxley had to dumb himself down a little for Zan to understand his position. Yet it amounted to ‘can you bullshit your way through a conversation?’

Eventually, Zan said, ‘yes.’

“Great! That’s one problem solved, then. So, if anyone asks, I will say you’re my ‘Homespun Ethics Tutor,’ good?” Luxley asked.

“I guess? I don’t know what that means, but I will follow your lead.”

“It will amount to something like this: someone will ask you a question — a question probably nothing to do with what you’re going to reply — and you will provide an answer to their question using your experience as a normal Low-Born person. Just give your opinion on things, essentially. Try to dress your answer up with needlessly puffy terms. The more abstract, the better.”

“Got it… I think. Should we practice stuff like that?” Zan asked.

“Normally, I would say ‘yes.’ But we are cutting close on time. Finish your bath and meet me in my room.” Luxley walked to his desk and cleared his workspace of all non-essential materials. He placed the list to be translated at the center of his now clean desk. With a writing quil at the ready, Luxley thought he was missing something. ‘My books!’ The idea came to him suddenly. He had forgotten to get the books from the library! How could he be so careless?! ‘Ugh. I was too focused on the outfit. I forgot about the rest,’ Luxley concluded.

It wasn’t long before Zan exited the washroom. Unfortunately, Luxley was so taken aback with his misgivings, he did not hear Zan speak. Zan repeated himself, slightly sarcastically. “Whoa, what’s that?”

Luxley looked at where Zan pointed. It was his desk.

“That,” Luxley said, about to explain. “Is my techy-mag board.”

Luxley remained unsurprised when Zan said he did not know what that meant. “It’s okay. It is a pretty new technology. So, you know what machines are, right? Techy-mag boards are the artificial spirit of those machines.”

“Whoa. All machines? Even the automotrons?” Zan asked, suddenly serious.

“The automotrons? That’s a complicated question. I don’t really have the answer.

“Alright, that is really cool. Are you going to study that at a fancy academy, then?”

Luxley found it hard to find the right words to respond to Zan. He wanted to study it, but how could he when he knew its one purpose would be to spread evil?

“I am on the fence about it. I guess we’ll see what the future holds…” Luxley said.

“I think it would be cool. Be on the cutting edge of the world. More than I could say,” Zan said, uncharacteristically, it seemed to Luxley.

“You’ll find something eventually, dude. Give it some time. Now, we should get to work on this translation. I need to run to the library super-quick. I forgot to pick out some books on translation. Ugh… but you can come with me. Just keep to my back, understand?” Luxley asked of his friend.

“Sounds good. I wouldn’t want to get lost. Make for us a lot of problems… so did you sign my name into that register book or whatever the issue was before?” Zan asked.

Once again, Luxley groaned. The bedroom door Luxley had partially opened when Zan spoke. Luxley closed the door and bent his head against the wall. He said, “Feck, feck, and more feck! I totally forgot about that, too! Shit, oh crap, oh—”

“LUXLEY! Stop it. Stop swearing. I get enough of that on the battlefield,” Zan said, gently shaking his buddy out of it.

“You good?” Zan asked.

“Yeah. I am,” Luxley said. “Okay. Ummm… stay in my room. I will head to the library, be back as soon as I can — literally — and we can go over the list together. Then I will give you an estimate on how long the translation should take.”

“Sure. I’ll just hang out in the closet, I guess. Hurry back, okay? I don’t enjoy being here without you,” Zan said, opening the closet door, stepping in, and sliding shut the only way in or out of the closet.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Promise!” Luxley said, leaving his bedroom and encountering, who else, but Gatson and Miss Maggie Weathers.