Farris shook quickly himself, managing not to show any physical sign of his surprise and recovery from it. Which wasn’t of any help, of course, as the two Chosen had much more than just his physical actions with which to read him. He crossed the room towards his mother. “Good day, Your Majesty.” He gave a small bow before getting up to exchange a kiss on each cheek.

  “Good day to you too, Farris.” His mother’s smiled lightly widened as they parted and she sat back down. Gesturing to a third sit, midway between the two Chosen, she said, “Thank you for joining us. Please take a seat.”

  Farris nodded but couldn’t stop himself from glancing at Devoha, who immediately noticed, of course. The deshar Chosen made a closed fist. “Please, general, no need for empty courtesy on my account. You know how I feel about manners.”

  “Of course, ma’am.” Farris gave her a smile and took his own sit. Theoretically, even that was a show of courtesy on his part. Deshar customs did not require any special form of address when showing deference to the Accorded to the Voice. No verbal form of address, at least. So he should’ve just addressed her by her given name or her accord. But Devoha wouldn’t have liked the latter option, seeing it as much too courteous since she knew the other races saw the Duties (higher ranking, that is) as mostly analogous to their own customary titles. And he couldn’t have gone with the former because… at the end of the day, she was still his commanding officer. And he wasn’t anywhere close to being familiar enough with her to feel at ease addressing her by name.

  A silence settled on the room as Farris waited for either of his two superiors to begin the meeting. But it seemed they were both content to wait. His mother went back to her work, slowly sharpening the blade by tracing her bare finger over it. And Devoha was taking slow, measured sips, without even setting the cup down. And why would she? It was never going to run out anytime soon.

  Eventually, Farris grew tired of the wait, and, suppressing a sigh, asked Devoha, “Lady Chosen, may I inquire as to why you have joined us today?”

  She smiled at him. “Really Farris? I know you don’t show Markos this much deference. I know you give Terujai and Zhian only a little more than the diplomatically required amount. What’s so different about me? Am I so scary?”

  “Yes.”

  His mother gave a laugh. “When has being scared ever prevented you from acting the way you wanted?”

  “When I’m really scared.”

  She smiled and set the blade aside again, but this time still kept it present. “In all seriousness, Devoha’s here on my invitation. More or less. I wanted to keep her updated on your plans. After all, if all goes well, the Accord’s military is also going to go through some changes in the near future.”

  “That’s optimistic.”

  “Which part?” Devoha asked.

  “The part where, after all of these reforms go well, I get to be in charge of reforming the deshar military like I did with the Terrans. The part that’s very optimistic is my ability to reform the deshar military in the near future.”

  “Come now, Farris. Surely my people’s armed forced aren’t going to give you much more trouble than the Terrans.”

  “Of course they will. My own army does. The Terran military is, by far, the best performing in the Web from a structural perspective. The only reason they lack in effective operational strength is their lack of experience fighting with magic. And their lack of experienced magical fighters. Both of those deficits will be remedied in the coming years. Would’ve, with or without my involvement. My reforms are just helping, hopefully, speed things along. I have no doubt that in fifty years, the Terran military would be recognized as the strongest out of the five nations. Unless our militaries will go through much greater, much more necessary reforms as well.

  “The Terrans only need time to grow into their true strength. We have no more room to grow. Our own inefficiencies are stifling our growth, our outdated customs restricting our size. If we don’t change, we will be left far behind the Terrans, eventually. And frankly, ma’am, I think your people’s armed forces are most in need of change. The only reason their deficiencies aren’t more apparent to everyone is… because of you. You’re holding together a structure that’s more rundown than the building we’re sitting in.”

  Devoha gave a small nod. “You’re right. I agree with almost everything you said. All except one thing: In fifty years, the Terran military might solve all the deficits you mentioned, but will it actually be the strongest? Even without any changes, my successor will continue to ‘hold together’ the deshar military. I think we both know the likelihood of a Terran Chosen being there to push their strength above ours. Much less the other three nations.”

  “Is that… a certain fact?”

  “No. I would not be so foolish as to predict what will happen in fifty years. Especially not concerning subjects as complex as the creation of a new Chosen.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” his mother said. “Farris’ argument, as you agreed with it, doesn’t depend on us Chosen. In this day and age, we should not count ourself as part of our own nation’s forces.”

  The skin on top of Devoha’s eyes deformed a little, the white bones becoming even more prominent in the deshar equivalent of a raised eyebrow. “Is this a rebuke, Elira?”

  “No, of course not. You are the last of us that should be criticized along those ground.”

  “That doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t be criticized. As Farris just said, I am the main reason why the deshar military is not the laughingstock of the Web. That clearly shows that I am operating inside of national lanes.”

  “It’s not the same thing,” Farris said. “My mother was speaking of the effective strength of the operating forces being judged according to the individual strength a Chosen brings to the table. That is not what I was talking about when I said you were propping up your military. I was talking about the strategic benefits that you provide for the deshars. That kind of involvement isn’t really avoidable, even in our day and age. And to your credit, you have managed to delegate much more authority than the Imperials and ningani have.”

  “Only in name. Only in name.”

  “That still makes for an easier time changing the system than a system where the emperor wields, in name and practice, both supreme political and military power.”

  “Hm… You’re not trying to take power away from us, are you?”

  “Depending on what you mean by taking away power. The pre-modern Terran military model was, in name, a complete meritocracy. The best and the brightest were to end up in the highest commands. Of course, that was, and always will be, an impossible ideal, even in a world as physically equal as theirs. Politics, for one, will always get in the way. The amazing politician and fairly competent commander will almost always triumph over the amazing commander and shit politician. Today, power and authority in the Terran military is roughly shared between the Rulers, the General Staff… and yours truly. And since the former two groups are groups, that leaves me the most influential figure in the Terran armed forces. Only in practice, of course.

  “That is not meritocracy. I have done nothing to deserve my status in the Terran military, because I have done nothing to deserve my status in the Sarechi military, which invests me with the former. The twenty-three Terran Rulers have done nothing, in theory, to deserve the ability to influence the lives of millions of Terran soldiers. True, as offices they are, on average, more competent than the other nations’ Rulers, but we all know how low of a bar that is. And so the actual commanding officers of the Terran military, the four and five stars, have to share power and authority, and many times give ground, with people who aren’t as qualified to wield that power and authority as they are.

  “That is the greatest strategic deficiency of the modern Terran military. But it has been the greatest for all our militaries, since time immemorial. Because of the tactical benefit from—the necessity of—having powerful combatants. We all know where Rulers got their name from. When armies, nations, only had the one Ruler, you couldn’t give those Rulers orders, not even if you were the brightest level 8 in the world. They were your rulers, after all. You could only give them advice. Nowadays, a bright level 8 could give a Ruler an order because they have a whole hierarchal system supporting them, a system that doesn’t depend solely on individual strength. But the situation still remains the same one rank higher. Not even the brightest Ruler can give a Chosen an order. We can only give advice.”

  “Unless all eight of us choose to delegate our authority to that Ruler,” Devoha said. “Agreeing to obey their orders due to the collective compelling by our fellows. The practical means of enforcement that give a level 8 the ability to give order to a Ruler.”

  Farris nodded. “That’s true. And it is maybe possible. We can certainly look back at our histories and find when was the first time that non-Rulers could give orders to Rulers, and how many Rulers were there to hold the others accountable. It could theoretically work. But, practically, I don’t see you taking orders from anyone who isn’t a Chosen. At least not all of you as a collective.”

  “You might be right. Let’s hope that if a very bright mind appears, we would be able to recognize them and give that person the authority to lead us to victory.”

  “What kind of victory?”

  Devoha smiled. “That remains to be seen. But please, go on. You haven’t finished your explanation. What will be our role in the new militaries that you hope to bring about?”

  “Ideally…” Farris gestured towards his mother. “Like here.”

  “But only in the aspect of us Chosen, yes?” His mother smiled.

  “Yeah… Obviously, I’m not trying to change the system completely. Nor do I want to. Let the Accord keep their councils and Duties. Let us keep the monarchy and the devolution of authority. Maybe let the nigani and Imperials streamline their system a bit. But that’s it. I’m not calling for us to adopt a military structure exactly like the Terrans. That would require a civilian structure like theirs. And that’s a political change. I don’t deal with those. I’m not a politician that knows how to take care of a nation, nor am I a philosopher that think he knows how a nation should be taken care of. I’m a general talking about the ideal structure of the military. An ideal to which the Terrans are currently closest, but just like in their past, they will never reach. And nor will we. Maybe we will always remain a little farther from the ideal than the Terrans, because of our own political systems, but that’s not going to be what wins or loses us the war.

  “But in order to win the war, we will have to change our military system. All eight of you agree with that. My thinking is that we should strive to adopt more facets of the Terran system. That’s the reason for the upcoming reforms. We’ll bring the Terran up to our standards without changing the core of their system, only trying to improve upon it. And then we’ll be able to judge its effectiveness and convince others of it.

  “And the only reason I am able to carry out these reforms is because there’s no other authority in the Terran military opposing me. If the Terrans had a Chosen, then I would go back to—actually start being—just the commander of the Sarechi military. And if that Chosen opposed my reforms, then my reforms would be dead in the water. Unless the Terrans had a Chosen who delegated the organizational operation to a subordinate, and, officially at least, relinquished all authority over the Terran military. Then, I would only have to deal with that subordinate. And even if he didn’t agree with them, I would have the ability to change their mind, act against them, and even overrule them. Although, for that last one to work, we have to assume a system that’s more like the Terrans than ours, where the authority is delegated to a wide body instead of just one person.”

  “Is such a system even possible?” Devoha asked.

  Farris shrugged. “Hopefully. The only reason why the Sarechi system works is because Mother is who she is. And my sister and I are her children. It’s not hard to figure out what would’ve happened if me and her had been incompetent in our duties. We only have to look to the past, when the system was much less ‘ideal.’ And even right now it could stop working at any moment if our second Chosen decided to actively enter the political ring. So who knows how a system of delegating authority would work for the Imperials and ningani?”

  “The Imperials could make it work. The Common Guide has already deferred to the imperial throne in most military matters for the last few centuries. So they should only be so happy to take some of that power away from the throne. I know that Zhian will certainly go along with this suggestion. Terujai might, depending on his answer to the question of succession.”

  “Yes… but the problem will keep repeating itself every new generation of Chosen. Well, maybe in case of an even number of Chosen, an equilibrium is created, and it’s not that big of a problem for the system. At least as long as all the recipients of the delegated power are acting in concert for the same goal, if not with the same ideals. But that’s beside the point. I can’t affect the Council of Chosen, nor do I want to bother with changing the overall power structure of our societies. My reforms have only to do with changing the structure and operating procedure of our militaries. The stuff that even the ningani Chosen mostly delegate to others nowadays.”

  “Structure and operating procedure are amorphous words,” his mother said, as though to herself. “They can mean a dozen different things to half a dozen different people.”

  “That’s true.” Farris drummed on the armrest. “But they shouldn’t mean a dozen different things to you. So you, at the very least, have no reason to oppose my changes of the Sarechi military. And hopefully, by the time your successor, whoever they might be, comes around, the changes would have become the norm so that they wouldn’t even consider reverting them. Highly likely, in my opinion, unless we get another Bladestorm-like surprise. Erianna has what? A hundred or so years left for her, eighty if we’re very grim? Surely by then, the changes I’m going to make would be considered as the well-established status quo. That is, of course, if we’re still fighting the same war in eighty years?”

  “Why wouldn’t we?” Devoha asked with a slight smile.

  “Wars change. Even static, everlasting ones like ours. We’re not fighting the same war that was fought eighty years ago, are we? You certainly aren’t.”

  “That’s true. I mistook your meaning, took it to be more optimistic. After all, who knows whether we’ll still have a war to fight in eighty years? That’s a long time. A future that distant is uncertain for all of us, Epiraks included.”

  Farris shrugged. “I don’t know what will happen in eighty years. It’s not my job to prepare for what comes after following our victory. My job is to prepare our forces so they could claim victory. Or, avoid ruinous defeat.”

  “Which one is it?”

  “My reforms are general. To make our armies better. It’s not a zero-sum game; I’m not trying to change our forces to be more offense oriented at the expense of defensive capabilities or vice versa. The stronger we become, the closer we come to the possibility of victory, the farther we get from the risk of defeat.”

  “True. But that aspect still exists. There are changes which would make our armies stronger on the offense and weaker on the defense. Different structures, different operating procedures, different strategies. In the future, you might have to make those changes if you want to claim victory.”

  “I will if I need to. But that’s not my decision. That’s grand strategy. That’s on you eight.”

  “Or the person to which would delegate supreme authority…”

  “Is this a roundabout way to tell me that I’m going to get a promotion in the near future?”

  “No, just a roundabout way of expressing my own musings.”

  “Good, because I’m already swamped as it is. I won’t have time to take command of the rest of the allied militaries before I finish dealing with the current two.”

  “And how’s that going?” his mother asked.

  Farris sighed. “Slower than I wanted. About as fast as I expected. Like I told you last time…” He paused, turning to Devoha in question.

  Before it was asked, the deshar Chosen closed her level fist. “No need to repeat your past reports on my account. I’m sure that I will receive all pertinent information in due time anyway.”

  Yeah, right. As though you don’t already have it, Farris thought. Outwardly, he nodded and turned back to his mother. “Not much has changed since the last time we spoke on the subject. I’ve managed to extract some major concessions from the Terrans in minor matters. And I’ve slightly altered, again, my proposal on the topic of high-command units structure.”

  “Particularly of note, is mostly keeping the relatively high amount of independence that certain units enjoy when compared to their status in our military. They convinced me to keep doctrine development under the current umbrella. Apparently, it’s much more useful as a part of TAC… the same unit as the tactical academies. They also maintained the importance of military liaisons and attachés for the purpose of developing doctrine. Honestly, I never really had a leg to stand on since, if you remember, my entire point was that they shouldn’t give as much weight to the opinions of other nations as they’re trying to do. And, probably the most major remaining contention, though I doubt I’ll be able to change their minds, they’ve refused to allow any unit larger than a battalion to serve under deshar strategic command.

  “Continuing their break from the Gellas agreement,” Devoha said.

  “Much of my low opinion of your nation’s military stems from very critical Terran reports, lady Chosen.”

  “And yet you tried to convince them to forgo their own opinion and expertise in order to serve under my nation’s forces.”

  “It was a long shot, but a worthy one. Terran expertise would’ve been able to flow upwards and sideways, and it’s not like deshar expertise is completely nonexistent as to not benefit the Terrans at all. As long, of course, that the units were placed under capable commanders and in adequate situations, but I’m sure you would’ve taken care of that. Then there’s all the added political bonuses. I think the price is worth it, even if the worst-case scenario comes true and it amounts to hundreds of unnecessary deaths each year.”

  “How many unnecessary death do we suffer each year?” his mother asked. “From units serving under the Accord’s command structure?”

  “I wouldn’t know. I can’t have a dedicated analysis of our units under the deshar umbrella. If it comes back too negative, I might be forced to take back our units, and then where will we be? Then again, if I put the same people who are most opposed to our cooperation with the Accord, in charge of analyzing said cooperation, they’ll probably report back that there’s not much wrong with it. As long as they’re not dishonest on top of being incompetent.”

  “That’s always a possibility… Still, you must have estimations. Your own opinion, if nothing else.”

  Farris stared at his mother. “You’re not trying to walk back on that part of the agreements as well, are you?”

  “Farris, at this stage in my life, do you honestly think that I would care about the lives of mere hundreds of our kin if their sacrifice is something that you think is necessary for our victory? I simply wish to know more about the operation of the forces I’m meant to represent before the other Chosen.”

  Farris nodded. His mother was, of course, right. She and her seven compatriots were, are, the final authority on all matters relating to the waging of the war. Even though she seemed content to delegate practically her complete authority to Farris, and Markos Falvan seemed content to not challenge that, she was still the bearer of that authority when the choices were such that only eight people were allowed to make them. And even though his mother never had the great love for strategy and command that Farris did, nor the talent, she was the one who raised and trained him to be who he was. She had forsaken power and authority only because she wanted to, not because she was not up to the task of wielding them.

  Besides, he was certain that there were strategic matters in which even the most strategically incompetent Chosen held an edge over the most strategically inclined Ruler. When it came time to debate those matters, it would be much preferable if his mother had all the information she needed available to her.

  He finished his internal calculations shortly after and said, “I’d give the estimate at about a hundred. Maybe two. But it’s a wide range. Could be only a few dozen. Couple be a couple of hundreds. It’s hard to approximate based solely on Terran analysis, because our embeddedness in the deshar forces is very different from what theirs would be. Most of our units serving under the deshar are part of the Gellas Army, with only one and a half divisions serving in other units. Due to being such a large command unit, the Gellas Army maintains a lot of it’s strategic independence, reporting directly to my deshar counterparts, bypassing front command in most cases. So there’s really not a lot of place for extra casualties due to deshar… performance.”

  “If that’s the case, why are you so hesitant to conduct a proper analysis?”

  “Not worth the risk. If I’m wrong, then I stand to lose a source of substantial aid in carrying out my future plans. What would I gain? Peace of mind, knowing that our forces are not sorely misused? They’re not. The only reason the Terrans came to the conclusion they did was because they didn’t take Lady Devoha’s involvement into account. As I said, there is a reason the deshar military isn’t looked down upon as it should be. And if it was looked down upon as it should, then I wouldn’t even need to carry out an analysis in order to get cries calling for the return of the Gellas Army.”

  “If things are as dire as you say they are,” Devoha said while raising her cup to her lips, “perhaps I ought to do something to change them.”

  “I leave that up to you. Like I said, I’m already swamped taking care of two militaries. I can’t add another to the list anytime soon.”

  “Then perhaps I can help you lighten the load a bit and pave your way for a smoother future. If the Terrans aren’t willing to entertain serving under my commanders because they didn’t take into account my own ‘involvement,’ would they be willing to endure such a fate if I were to promise them personal and meticulous attention?”

  “Would you be willing to do such a thing?”

  “Certainly. Promise them that, I mean.” She smiled. “And I will certainly try and do my best with those allied forces serving in my nation’s armies. It would be up to the Terrans to judge whether my efforts are satisfactorily. So, who do I have to convince? It’s General Asun you’re mostly conversing with, is it not?”

  “Lieutenant General, yes. But no, the matter is too sensitive for just Sakina Asun to change the Terran military’s stance. There is a lot of organizational reluctance, in all levels of the Terran military, to send strategic units to serve under deshar command. No, you would have to convince either the General Staff itself. Or, much simpler, Halvard Amantea. If you can convince him, he’ll get, at the very least, EASTCOM on board with the proposal, which would be enough for it to carry.”

  “And the political implications for you?”

  “Shouldn’t be any. Quite the opposite. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have fought so hard for this. Well, as hard. You really think you can convince Halvard?”

  “Of course. I did not get where I am solely due to brute strength… I’ll convince the general, let him and whoever else he wants take part and final say in the discussion on how to embed independent Terran units in the Accord’s command. That should please him. It should please you. And it will definitely please me, due to all the positive benefits that you claimed this change will bring. I’ll talk with him today. You’ll have your concession by tomorrow.”

  Farris frowned. “So soon?”

  “Why not? Are the plans for the reform not to be finalized tonight?”

  “They are… In the sense that we’ve finished the preliminary discussion of all major and minor topics. But that still leaves very minor topics to be hashed out and rechecked over the coming weeks. And importantly, there is still plenty of debating left for when the actual summit takes place and the final decisions will be made. And that’s not happening anytime soon.” He turned to his mother. “Lera gave me the go ahead to call the summit whenever I wanted to, but I’m still going to wait a few more months.”

  “For any particular reason?” she asked.

  “Yes. But none of them are important. Just see no reason to rush this.”

  “Well that can always change,” Devoha said. “Sometimes in a flash. So it’s better to have a major topic of such as this, dealt with as soon as possible. I trust that you won’t call the summit for tomorrow, yes?”

  “Of course not. Even if I wanted to call it immediately, a single day is much too little notification.”

  “Excellent. So we’re back to you being able to call for the summit whenever you want to. Now, we only have a few hours left before I have to leave, and a little less before you have to, so I suggest we give you the stage for a while and you, in turn, give us the rundown of the planned reforms.”

  “With a little more detail than what you gave Lera, of course.” His mother smiled. “But not too much.”

  Farris shook his head with a sigh. “Alright. So as I told her, the first facet of reforms is wholly Terran and has to due with their military education…”

  As Farris gave two of the most powerful people in the Web a summary of all the work he had done in the past few years, he couldn’t help but wonder at what stage in his life did he stop being afraid of doing that. Sure, he had held the entire attention of a Chosen before; he had spent hours talking to his mother while she had spent those listening. But there was a difference between performing before his mother, and performing before his mother and the Accorded to the Voice. And Farris held no illusions to that fact. This was a performance, a test. If he failed spectacularly, in such a fashion that completely shattered the two Chosen’s confidence in his abilities to carry out his duties, this day would end with him dismissed from all his obligations and removed from the mission he had spent the last ten years working on.

  Of course, the chances of that happening were infinitely smaller than the chances that he’ll wake up a Chosen tomorrow. He had no reason to fear that his actions and plans would raise the Chosen’s ire; no reason to worry that he wouldn’t be able to express and explain those in expert detail. But he was only an elf, he was fallible, irrational. There was nothing more natural than feeling anxious when before two women such as these, especially not when the subject of conversation had to do with the fate of millions, possibly billions, of lives. Yet he wasn’t feeling the slightest tinge of anxiety.

  Would he still feel the same if he was speaking before all eight Chosen, and not just the two? Maybe, maybe not. That wasn’t the point. The point was that Farris didn’t have enough experience talking to even just two Chosen to grow calloused to the act. Familiarity wasn’t the reason he felt at ease talking at length before the likes of Devoha of the Voice. It was just him, who he was, that allowed him to spend what should’ve been, in his youth, a nerve wrecking couple of hours, in a pleasant enough state of mind. Which kept leading him to wonder, when did he change? When did he stop being that “youth” and become the person that was currently lecturing two Chosen? A name flashed in his mind. A round number. He shook his head. As always, the vestiges of the dream were still with him long after he had woken, trying to lead him down distracting mental avenues.

  “So what exactly is the difference between the current program and your new one?” his mother asked after he finished going over the last item on his agenda.

  “Mostly it’s just an increase in size,” Farris said. “But if it proves successful, and if we can keep enlarging the program, then the ultimate goal would be to require all senior tactical officers who command anything bigger than a company of the other race, to have trained in the program. That’s very ambitious, obviously, and we’ll never actually fully enforce it, but it’s a good goal to have.”

  “I’m assuming that you’re not expecting such a goal from your junior officers program?”

  “No, that’s just… an addendum. We’re already sending some officers to train and study at Terran institutes. I figured we might as well have a shared training program for promising young officers. But for now, it’s not even a comprehensive program. It’s just three weeks for newly promoted captains. In all honestly, it’s nothing but a glorified excellency indicator. Still, maybe it would help with further integration down the line, if those few officers who attend it go on to reach high enough ranks. The Terrans actually already had a program like that with the deshars. Smaller than this one is planned to be, but easier to plan and carry out, for obvious reasons. Seems like it’s going pretty well, nothing stellar, but no bad news is also good news in this case.”

  “I’ve heard the same.” Devoha nodded. “I understand the logic between keeping those two junior officers program separate. But, wouldn’t it make sense for the senior officers program to include the deshars as well?”

  “If we find a way to make it work, sure. It’d be for the best. You want me to look into doing that?”

  “Indeed. I’ll take care of my part. Shouldn’t leave you much work besides adjusting the program itself. Might even take some political heat off of it.”

  “Alright, it’s not planned for immediate start, so we can keep workshopping it in the meantime. But it’ll have to remain under Terran jurisdiction. That’s fine with you?”

  “Absolutely. Let General Asun do what she thinks is best.”

  “Very well. I’ll let her know she’s got extra work heading her way.” Farris suppressed a sigh as he stretched back on the chair. Reaching into his storage, he grabbed a coke bottle. He was parched, he hadn’t drunk since lunch. Silence reigned for a few seconds more before he finished his sip and said, “So that’s pretty much the overview. I’ll make sure you both get detailed reports in a couple of days. And once the summit finishes.”

  Devoha nodded. “Excellent. Oh, and if those two seem like they would be in close proximity one to another, don’t bother with the first one.”

  “I’ll… keep that in mind.”

  “Is there anything you know that we don’t, Devoha?” his mother asked. “A reason for Farris to call the summit as soon as possible?”

  The deshar Chosen shrugged. “Not particularly. But it is a bigger possibility than Farris thinks it is. For example, considering his personality alone, he might decide to push it forward. After all, he’s going to find himself with a much lighter workload in a day or two. That’s enough to drive even more cautious people into action. Also, there’s going to be an attack sometime next week. Three-pronged. Two distinct avenues of advance in the west, which lead me to believe it would target both the ningana and the Imperial section. And an attack on one of the eastern worlds.”

  “Anything we should be concerned about?” Farris asked.

  “Most likely not. It might even end up smaller than the recent trend of offensives indicates.”

  “But it does match the method, if not in size.”

  “In any case,” his mother said, “if they’re attacking on a limited scale in both western sections, then it’s obvious there’s not much to worry about. It must be just a probe.”

  “Doesn’t even have to be that. If they only send Brutes forwards, then it’s just the usual meat grinder. Maybe they’re running out of space.”

  “Or they want us to think they are. We don’t know the status of the northern Web. Both their capacity and reserves might be much greater than what they want us to think.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t know what would be the point of doing that. All our previous attempts to calculate the Brutes’ numbers have proven inaccurate. The Terrans are the only one who are still giving the subject any serious time and effort. And that’s only because they have an abundance of intelligence personnel that need a task to occupy their time.”

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  “Post-Shallenet, our doctrine holds that we should be ready for triple the number of Brutes currently fielded against us. Maybe they want us to keep thinking that’s enough, instead of increasing that threshold to four or five times.”

  “It depends on what their goal is…” Farris said, and sent questioning glances at both Chosen.

  Devoha set the cup down. “No need to wonder about that. It’s the same as it has ever been. Our total destruction. The complete subjugation of the Web to… their whims.”

  “Theirs or hers?”

  “A good question in the grand scheme of things. But one to which I do not hold the answer. And one that is not relevant to our immediate discussion. Just like you do not plan for the what will happen following our victory. We do not need to concern ourself about what will happen to the Epiraks following their victory. All we need to care about is preventing them from ever reaching that stage. For this purpose, the Epiraks might as well be a holistic unit. Solely focused on our demise. And to do that, they would need to attack soon.”

  “Soon?” Farris leaned forward.

  “Not that soon. But before… what was it you said, fifty years? They cannot let the Terrans reach their full military potential. That would dispel all hopes of their victory.”

  “That’s a little optimistic. Even for me. We don’t know how many Chosen the Epiraks really have. We don’t know their full strength. If they finish their northern conquests and come bearing down on us with twice of everything, it won’t matter how strong and modern our armies will be.”

  “If they had twice of everything, they would have finished their conquests long ago. But let’s say they do. Twice as many Brutes is only six times as many as we’re facing today. That’s manageable, yes?”

  Farris nodded.

  “And twice as many Martyrs is inconsequential, so we can disregard them. Twice as many Rulers… Let’s say that would give them one and half as many as we have today. How many will the Terrans field if they can fully utilize their numbers? How many will the rest of us, if we fully mobilize for war? Let’s say twice as many Rulers as the Epiraks will have?”

  “And of higher quality,” his mother said.

  “That’s debatable,” Farris said. “Both aspects. But I’ll go with that.”

  Devoha nodded. “That’s fair, but don’t forget that we’re not taking into account other aspects of our strength that might improve in the future. The only thing the Epiraks can improve upon is their numbers.”

  “Only as far as we know.”

  “Indeed, but let’s assume that what we know is correct. So, the question is, how many Rulers does it take to kill a Chosen? We have a couple of hundreds that aren’t necessary to fight other Rulers or help the leveled hold the line. Would they be enough?”

  “You tell me. I’ve never fought against a Chosen before.”

  “But I’m sure you’ve thought about the subject before. Nevertheless, let me figure out the numbers. We’ll be very cautious, so let’s say that we need ten of you to hold their ground against a Chosen. Twenty to kill them sounds about right?”

  Farris shrugged, but his mother nodded. “Maybe even overkill.”

  “Maybe, but we’re being cautious. After all, there aren’t twenty Farris Ninaes in the Web. So let’s double that twenty for the number of average Taken it takes to kill a Chosen. And then add ten more just for peace of mind.”

  “Great,” Farris said, “so we’ll need at least four hundred more Rulers than the Epiraks have. I’ll get right on that. And that’s assuming that the Epiraks will be coming at us in a dumb frontal attack. With no strategy. Like sending their extra Chosen to harass and kill lone Rulers. Or ganging up on other Chosen.”

  “And you’re assuming that we will sit there and dumbly take their attacks. Not to mention that we’re already operating from the very pessimistic assumption that the Epiraks have twice as many Chosen as we have.”

  “Alright…” Farris spread his hands. “So I’ll give you all that. Let’s assume that with the Terrans, we’ll be able to field all those extra Rulers. And that with advancements in technology, strategy, tactics and everything else, we’ll stand far above everything the Epiraks can bring against us, even if they’re twice as strong as what we know them to be. But we’re also making one more assumption: that they don’t have anything else to bring against us…”

  “As I told you before, you don’t need to worry about her. If she comes afield, then we’ve already won completely. And for the purpose of this thought experiment, she doesn’t matter. There can’t be two of her.”

  “Meaning that if you’re wrong, and we do need to face her, we will have nothing to hold her back with.”

  “Sure we will. All the Chosen that don’t need to fight other Chosen because our numerical advantage in Rulers lets us send Rulers to fight against Chosen.”

  “That’s not the scenario we were talking about.”

  “No, it’s the realistic one. As l said, if the Epiraks had all the advantages you’ve given them, then they would’ve already wiped us out.”

  “Hm…” Farris shrugged. “That’s true. So is that it? You’re saying that in fifty or so years, whenever the Terrans are able to bring their whole weight forwards, we’ll have won the war? And how would winning look like?”

  “Having no possible avenues of defeat.”

  “That’s not winning. That’s just maintaining the status quo.”

  “If the Epiraks cannot wipe us out, then they have lost. As simple as that.”

  “Is that so?” Farris asked his mother.

  She grimaced. “It’s more complicated than that. But in theory… The Epiraks have to destroy us in order to win. So all we need to win is just survive.”

  “How exactly does that work?”

  “We can’t tell you that.”

  “Of course…” He leaned back with a sigh. “Then I guess there’s nothing else for me to worry about? Victory will come from preserving the status quo. And since all I’m working towards is improving the status quo, I’m already doing my part. No need to make any grand plans. Slow and steady will win the race.”

  “Of course not,” Devoha said. “If it was that simple, then there wouldn’t be any need to work you as hard as we have.”

  “So you’re saying we’re not ready for the Epiraks’ final attack?”

  “No. Luckily, neither are they. So you must keep striving to improve our strength as much as possible, as fast as possible. The Epiraks will not give us fifty years.”

  “How long then?”

  “I don’t know. As you said, we don’t know what the status in the north is. We don’t know the true extent of their forces. But we also don’t know the full extent of their fears and constraints. Rest assured, I have worked my entire life to ensure the Web will emerge victorious from this conflict. If I thought you were doing anything that doesn’t fully serve that purpose, I would’ve told you so already.”

  “Not replaced me?”

  “Virtues, no. If I had to replace you, think of how many in my own chain of command I’ll need to get rid of.”

  “Which begs the question why you haven’t gotten rid of them yet?” his mother asked.

  “Are you the only ones who are constrained by politics?”

  “No, of course not. But you’re the only one who isn’t constrained by them.”

  Devoha gave a slight nod. “I may be more free than any of you. But I still have some chains binding me. Fear not, Farris, because I know your mother isn’t. My forces will be more than up to their task when the day to face the final Epirak effort comes. You, among many other people, will make sure of that.”

  Farris took a sip. “That’s good. Because according to you, I might go insane if I didn’t have any work to do, leading me to do something like call for an important summit out of nowhere. Just give a couple of years to finish with the Terrans, alright? They’re not going to come at us in the next five years, are they?”

  “Our timetable is much more generous than that.”

  “By how much?”

  “That I do not know.”

  “Well, I’ve been preparing for the next Epirak push for the last ten years. Still don’t know about it actually being the final push, but there’s no reason not to plan as though it is and that they’ll be attacking us with all they have. Luckily, I’ve been preparing for that exact scenario. So unless you have any new information that you can actually tell me, I don’t see any reason change anything.”

  “There is one thing you can do differently.”

  “What do you mean?” Farris’ mother asked in his stead.

  “It’s not major, but I do believe there is one aspect in which the other nations fall from our military. Personal education given by our best and brightest. Perhaps you ought to review the obligations that Rulers hold while away from the front.”

  Farris sighed. “I wish. While I can order Rulers to go die somewhere. I can’t really order them to spend time teaching a bunch of twenty-year-olds how to fight. Plus, I’d be a gigantic hypocrite if I did. But, you’re right, maybe there’s a compromise to be found between your system of mandatory attention and our system of voluntary neglect. I’ll see what results the Terrans get from their attempt. Maybe I could get forcing Rulers to guide level 8s through to 9 and 10. It’ll only be possible to try in a couple of years. So I’ll be able to use Erianna in order to lead by example.”

  “I’ll hold you to that. And in case you start thinking that it’s not a particularly important change. Just remember that in order to ensure our survival, we must ensure that each one of us does our very best. And can you honestly say that most Rulers are doing their very best? I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you this, but most of them have a much lighter schedule than you. So why not fill some of that free time helping the war effort? And if they don’t want to teach, they can study, advance the sciences.”

  “Like the dwarves.”

  “Or the ningani,” his mother said. “They strike a fine balance between the teaching and learning.”

  “Yeah… I think the Terrans modeled their current directive after them. I just wish I could’ve gotten an actual ningana or two to help them along.”

  “I’ll talk with Pharroy and Kasrak,” Devoha said. “They’ll make sure the Terran trial run gets some more guidance.”

  “That’s good. I’ll make sure to include that in the draft, then. We’ll definitely want to discuss this aspect in the summit.”

  “Then I’ll have their affirmation by tomorrow.” Devoha smiled.

  “Glad to have your help.”

  She closed her fist. “I’m just doing my duty. Same as you.”

  “So back to the attack next week. Anything else you know?”

  “No. Nothing that requires yours or ours involvement, at least.”

  “Business as usual, then.”

  “Mostly,” his mother said.

  Farris turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “You didn’t know about the attack. So what’s different?”

  “They’re moving holdworlds around, it seems. The numbers stay the same, but they’re rotating them for some reason.”

  “They’ve done that plenty of times before.”

  “Exactly. So we don’t see anything to worry about because of that just yet.”

  “Rotating Rulers maybe? Give some element of surprise to their attack?”

  “We don’t know,” Devoha said. “All enemy Rulers stationed on-worlds in the last month are still there. And we can’t look into the holdworlds.”

  Farris tsked. “Would’ve loved to get my hands on one of those. Just to see how it works, and, more importantly, what the command structure of the bastards using it looks like.”

  “There’s a plan brewing to do just that.”

  “I know. Latteras told me. He said he’s trying to get the ningani involved before he brings it to the Council. But I haven’t looked into it too deeply. And it’s still in the embryonic stages. By the time it’s carried out, I’ll probably have a whole new military to look after.”

  A flash of externalized magic went off as his mother poured an outrageous amount of energy into the blade, very wasteful. Still, she held it upward with a slight smile. “Needs some more work,” she said to herself before turning to Farris. “I wouldn’t worry about the holdworlds, Farris. They’re a minor variable as long as the front’s static.”

  “But the fact that Latteras still plans to bring it before the council means that there are Chosen who believe the front won’t remain as such. At the least, Lady Morra. Otherwise, she would’ve never given him free rein to pursue this. So, does she expect or defensive lines to falter when the final push comes? Or does she not expect a final push at all, and looks towards our next?”

  “The latter.”

  Farris sighed. “I know that are plenty of secrets that you can’t tell me. But I do wish that when you gave me the sensitive ‘Chosen only’ information that you can give, you would tell me if that was the consensus amongst you or just your beliefs.”

  “The final Epirak gasp is not even the consensus among us two,” Devoha said. “Your mother just entertains my notions. Because there’s no reason not to plan as though it’s true. We stand to lose nothing by building ourself for the entirety of the Epirak strength to come bearing down on us.”

  Farris turned to his mother. “You said that if the Epiraks couldn’t beat us, then their defeat was guaranteed.”

  “According to Devoha, it is. I’m not sure what to think based on the facts I have available to me and that I cannot tell you. But, I don’t think that anything we discussed today was false. We are growing stronger every day. Eventually there will come a time when the Epiraks must attack us with all they’ve got because otherwise they would have no chance to ever defeat us. But, to claim that would end with us beating them completely, and not a stalemate of some sort. I can’t. I don’t need to. Because I know the Epiraks do want to destroy us. A stalemate is not good enough for them. So they will attack us with all they have. And that’s the consensus among us.”

  “I see… So the debate is more what to do after that inevitable attack comes. Whether we will need to take the fight to them in order to finish them off. Or whether just holding them back will amount to winning. Guess you’re right. Doesn’t matter to me or what we’ve talked about. I can just keep going as I have.”

  “Exactly.” Devoha nodded.

  Farris leaned back, lost in thought for a little while. The two Chosen seemed content to leave him be and wait for him to speak up again. “Alright, so I only have some other minor matters to go over with you today,” he said to his mother. “Or should we save them for another time?”

  “Let’s finish them today,” she said. “If only to make sure nothing distracts you in the coming days.”

  Farris nodded and took out a single sheet of paper from his storage. On it was a cyphered short-hand list of items that, as far as he knew, involved matters on which Chosen held insight that no else possessed. “Alright, so the first item is the reports of holdworlds changing position. We’ve covered that. The second item is a joint Terran-dwarven request for research into Chosen. We’ve talked about this before, if you remember. I assume the answer is the same?”

  His mother nodded. Devoha smiled. “They keep asking you and Tarshin. I wonder why?”

  “Because we have the direct ear of a Chosen and aren’t grumpy assholes?”

  “That’s more of a cause than the reason, I should think.”

  “Whatever, it’s not up to me. Even if I were a Chosen, it wouldn’t be. So item three, I’ve got reports of more energy fluctuations around the Plains. Same number of affected worlds as before. Still business as usual?”

  “Yes,” his mother said, “I’ve just checked on them two days ago.”

  “And besides,” Devoha said, “Ralishar keeps checking them daily. She’ll let us know if there’s anything we should worry about.”

  Farris frowned. “Daily? Why?”

  “It’s not what you think. She simply has a personal interest that she’s keeping a ‘secret.’”

  “I can hazard a guess. Anything I should know about?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t worry.” His mother smiled. “She’s not trying to steal your spy plan.”

  Farris sighed. “It was just a hypothetical question. We wouldn’t be doing ourself and our subordinates any favors if we avoided those questions just because they’re stupid. And need I remind you that by raising that question, I helped point out a gap in our defense?”

  “We were already aware of it. That’s why sending a spy through the Plains was a stupid idea.”

  “Always best to make sure. Item four, confirmation of peer reviewed research to do with threads.” He handed her a folder.

  She flipped through it. “Alright. I’ll have it done by the time I meet with Lera. I assume she will also have a folder?”

  “Probably. It’s been more than half a year. But I’m pretty sure if it was larger than usual she would’ve told me, so still smaller than this one. Alright, last item: the Terrans report renewed insistence from Pyllan to let the Imperials assume command of the western nuclear unit.”

  “Alright. I’ll talk Terujai. Matter of fact, I’ll talk with Zhian as well. Get her to try and prevent these incidents from popping up every two years.”

  “Hope it’ll stick. It’s one of the few carrots I have to try and speed up the empire’s modernization. And if I give them any more of it, they’ll eat it completely. It’s been six years since we allowed Imperial officers in the unit and Basil still gets a passive-aggressive reports from the Terrans every month detailing its status.”

  “I don’t think you will need to worry about these reports for much longer,” Devoha said. “A certain enterprising dwarven inquisitor is going to get command of all Imperial troops in that unit.”

  “Well that’s good. He’s just as fit for the job as any Terran officer in that designation. I’ll have Basil keep an eye out. Send him a gift when his promotion comes through.”

  “Make sure to send Tarshin one as well.”

  “Good point,” Farris gave himself a remainder. “Alright, do you need me for anything else?”

  Devhoa closed her fist and his mother shook her head. “No. We’ve already spent enough of your time.”

  “Plus,” Devoha said, “you also have a call waiting for you.”

  Farris sighed while standing up. “Right… manged to forget about that. Hopefully, it won’t take too long.”

  “You’re the general. It’ll be up to you.”

  Farris shook his head. He’ll deal with that once he’s back in his office. He gave his mother a hug and Devoha an almost courteous bow before leaving. Once the great doors closed behind him, he let out a long exhale before starting to make his way outside. These have been a long couple of hours. He’ll release some of that pent up energy during the flight. Fly extra fast and get this call with Dan Ritter over with.

  Once he was close to Bergvazhe, he sent Carai a thread, letting her know that he was going to call New Terra soon. She hadn’t sent him anything else since they talked, so Dan must still be there, waiting for Farris to call him.

  Basil was leafing through some documents when Farris walked into his office from the balcony. He stood up when Farris entered. “That took you a while, sir. I was starting to worry you were going to be late.”

  Farris sat down with a sigh. “You were right to. I still have another call I need to get to. Dan Ritter wants to talk with me for some reason. So I’ll finish with him first.”

  Basil nodded. “Understood, I’ll let Sakina know.”

  “Good. And tell her to expect an even longer night. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  Basil saluted before closing the door behind him. Farris took out another bottle—he really was tearing through them today—and took a long sip before stretching his senses towards Bergvazhe’s Web Communication formations (which served the whole of Maynil, saving him the headache of having to look far). He found the formation (and room) left empty for him and took control of its functions, ordering it to connect to New Point Academy through Transit. He didn’t have the patience for pleasantries, so he skipped protocol and, instead of connecting to the routing officer first, directly materialized in the same room where Dan Ritter was waiting for him.

  The talented and unfortunate level 10 showcased his tenacity by opening his eyes the moment Farris made visual contact with him. Standing up, he held a Terran salute. “Greetings, general.”

  Farris returned the salute before pivoting his hand to a dismissing gesture. “No need for any of that, Dan. We’re both busy men. And you’ve been waiting a long time. So, what can I help you with?”

  Dan seemed to hesitate, exchanging weight from one leg to the other, which, for a man like him, was a sign of great anxiety. “You can take a sit if you’d like,” Farris said.

  “Uh? No, that’s not what—Thank you, sir,” Dan said as he sat back down.

  Farris furrowed his brows. “So what’s so urgent and complex that it’s got you at a loss for words? If it’s about becoming a Ruler than I really think we should be having this conversation face to face.”

  “No, it’s not that… General, do you… do you remember when Esther Livingstone talked with you two days ago?”

  “Yeah. About a Thread-Weaver. The call came straight to me because she marked it urgent and didn’t tell the router what it was about. Doesn’t bother me all that much if that’s what you’re worried about. Happy to help. But we should probably look into writing an official protocol for how to confirm a Thread-Weaver. And deal with, I guess. Anyway, how is the young Thread-Weaver? I assume you confirmed him as such?”

  “Yes, and he’s fine. Perfectly… perfectly healthy. It’s just that… usually a Thread-Weaver appearing shouldn’t be classed as urgent. But Esther was panicked and didn’t know what to do, which is why the call was sent to you.”

  “I already said that I’m fine with it. It’s not like I can’t understand wanting to help a twelve-year-old who’s going through that, and panicking because you don’t know how to do help him.”

  Dan cleared her throat. “Well, in her panic, she forgot to tell you something that ended up impacting her ability to confirm Sam as a Thread-Weaver. And that you should’ve definitely been told about.”

  “Oh, he isn’t a kid? That’s alright. It’s the same process for confirmation. Even less work because they’ll probably be able to turn off the Sight by themselves.”

  “No, that’s not it. I mean, no, he isn’t a kid. But… that was the problem. The classic confirmation process didn’t work for him, so we had to use an artifact. And he didn’t need to turn off his Sight just yet.”

  “What? What the hell does that mean? Oh! So he’s an actual child, not even a teenager. Why the hell did someone give a child an artifact?”

  “He isn’t a child. And we had to measure his level. As per protocol. Look, I’ll just come out and say it—”

  Farris didn’t hear that last part as his mind seemed deafened by the shudder running through his body as the full meaning of Dan’s last statements became clear. He pushed his entire body forward, leaning on the desk so that his head almost passed it. “He’s a Taken, isn’t he? A Taken. A fucking Thread-Weaver Taken!”

  Dan nodded. “Yes sir.”

  Farris stared at him mutely for a few seconds. So many thoughts were rippling through his mind. With the day he had, why was this information what shook him to his core? Because, there have already been Epirak onslaughts in the past. You were expecting them. There has never been a Thread-Weaver Taken in history. And there was another kind of Taken that has never been before. “How old is he? If he isn’t a kid?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  Farris leaned back, while still keeping his gaze directed at Dan. “That’s incredible.” He exhaled. “I realize that you don’t hold particular interest in the Taken, Dan. Or have an opinion on their origin. But there has never been a Thread-Weaver Taken before. Nor has there been an adult Taken returned after an integration. Your new arrival is the first in history.” He thumped on the desk with satisfaction. “I can’t wait to meet him. So when does he get here?”

  “That’s… what I wanted to talk to you about, sir.”

  “Why? Is he abrasive? An idiot?”

  “No, that’s not it.”

  “So what’s the problem? Why shouldn’t I meet him? I’ll be nice. Don’t worry about it.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about. I just don’t think that he should go to Maynil.”

  “Oh. Shit. He doesn’t want to enlist, huh? Well, makes sense. Guy’s got his whole world upturned. So you’re just here giving me the bad news yourself?”

  “No, that’s not it. In fact, he had already decided to enroll in the academy yesterday. I’m going to start teaching him tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow? That’s pretty fast. He just got here, and he’s already throwing himself into the thick of it? I expected him to take a couple of months to adjust. Then join the Royal Academy when the new year starts. So what’s the problem? You’re not being territorial about your new arrival, are you?”

  Dan shook his head. “Of course not. But from a… psychological perspective—”

  “Fuck. Of course.” Farris slapped his forehead. “Can’t force a Taken through something like this so soon. But what is his psychological profile? Do you think he’ll be ready to come to Maynil in half a year?”

  “I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter. I think that the best approach is to have him study at New Point.”

  “Look, I understand that, I do. He’ll definitely have an easier, and better time studying with you guys. But if you want to make use of his uniqueness, then he has to start studying threads the moment he’s level 1. He only has three and a half years of studying—”

  “Two and a half.”

  “What?”

  “Two and half. He wants to finish his studies in two and a half years.”

  “That’s impossible. He’s already half a year behind and he has a lot of other stuff to catch up on. Just from a knowledge perspective.”

  “I know that. But I’ve started making a schedule. It is theoretically possible.”

  “Well sure, everything is theoretically possible. If all proceeds according to plan. But we’re talking about the real world here, and a real person. There’s no way that someone that can’t go to study in another world can make up for all that he has to in two and a half years.”

  “You’re wrong. He can go to another world, if he has to. Or he will be able to go, at least. But he won’t be able to make up for all that he has to in two and a half years if he does. That’s putting him under too much pressure.”

  Farris blinked. Dan was right. The possibility of this guy managing to finish his studies in two and a half years was still uncertain. But it was highly unlikely that he would be able to do this with the added pressure of being sent to another world. With no system to support Taken like him. With a different culture. He rubbed his temple. “Why does this guy even want to finish in two and a half years? Is he in a hurry or something?”

  Dan shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. I just talked with him the one time yesterday. He was adamant about trying to finish in two and a half years when I brought up the topic. So I promised him that I’ll make a plan and we’ll see if it’s viable.”

  “What does his psychological profile say? What about your experts? No indication as to why?”

  “He doesn’t have a psychological profile. He just got here two days ago. And we obviously couldn’t sit him down before a panel of experts and interrogate him.”

  “Well send me what you do have. I want to look at it…”

  Dan nodded and took out his phone. “I have it all ready. Sending now.”

  Farris turned on his computer. “Is it about the people he’s met? He wants to stay with them?”

  “As far as I know. He’s only been in contact with Sarah Khan. She’s another Taken—”

  “I know who Sarah Khan is.”

  “I don’t think he met any people his own age besides her. And she’s in her second year, so finishing in two and a half years won’t help him that much. But I don’t think it has anything to do with that. I think the answer is quite simple. He doesn’t want to spend an extra year studying if he doesn’t have to.”

  Farris nodded absentmindedly as he opened the files. “I’m familiar with the type.” He sighed as he started reading. “I guess I don’t have really a reason to refuse him like I did with her. He’s old enough. If he can finish his studies in two and a half years. He’ll be short in levels. Probably not the best fighter. But if he squares up in knowledge…” He looked at Dan. “You think he can do it?”

  “I don’t know. At least not yet. But from what I’ve seen, he seemed resolute. But that’s not really why I called you. If he’ll stay in the academy, keep training, even normally, then he’ll make it to level 1 before too long…”

  “And you don’t want his uniqueness to go to waste. But you also don’t want him to go to Maynil.” Farris frowned at the screen. “A black void?”

  Dan shrugged. “Probably false memories. At least Maurice seems to think so. That or hallucinations. Maurice Gira—”

  “I know who Maurice is. Still, you have to understand what you’re asking of me here, Dan. Thread-Weavers are trained in a system. We have a school. A curriculum. I can’t just send—” He chuckled. “Nice joke,” he muttered to himself. He couldn’t help it. Now that he started reading about this guy, about Sam Anders. Now that he had a face. He was no longer the only one of his kind in the history of the Web. He was a person. And it seemed to Farris that he was beginning to like that person.

  “Can’t just send what?” Dan asked, bringing Farris out of Dr. Giraud’s report and transcript.

  Farris shook his head. “I can’t just send some other Thread-Weaver to teach him about threads. One of our teachers. They each teach a different subject.”

  “I don’t see what the problem is. When you have a level 10 trying to become a Ruler, you just have him study under a single Ruler. What’s the difference? Just send someone with the Sight who’s proficient enough to teach Sam on how to use it and what he needs to know about threads.”

  “That’d be like sending you to teach him everything he needs to know about magic instead of having him study under the expert lecturers your academy has for each subject.”

  “That’s what I’m planning to do at the start, you know. Teach him everything myself. Maybe I’ll miss the mark a little in every subject, but I’ll still teach him 95% of everything he needs to know. That last five, he’ll be able to make up later if he needs to. You’re talking as though personally tutoring someone is a nonexistent phenomenon. Don’t the deshars have Rulers helping new Thread-Weavers along?”

  “Yes, they do. On top of the existing system for Thread-Weaver education.”

  “You’re telling me that you won’t be able to teach him everything he needs to know about threads by yourself?”

  “I won’t be able to teach him about threads at all if he stays at New Terra.”

  “I was speaking rhetorically. Surely there is someone close to your caliber of knowledge than can teach Sam adequately enough.”

  Cracking his knuckles, Farris gave a sigh as he closed the last item of information on Sam Anders. It was awful. He really liked the guy. He hadn’t even met him and he already liked him. What’s worse, he had already started pilling expectations on a person he practically knew nothing about, expectations the likes of which no person would be happy to shoulder out of nowhere. And now he was debating the feasibility of this Sam being able to not only shoulder his wildly growing expectations but also exceeding them.

  “The problem is,” Farris started, “that no matter who I send to teach him, I can’t guarantee the quality of education he will receive. The teacher might be the foremost expert on threads, but what if they’re a lousy teacher? What if they’re a good teacher but shit for Sam because of incompatible personalities? Even for my own niece, who I had the time and opportunity to personally teach and guide for many years, I still made sure that she took part in the Thread-Weaver program. I did that for the same reason that you won’t be Sam’s personal teacher forever. We can’t guarantee our own infallibility. Only thing we can do is create a system that’s meant to ensure every one of our recruits gets the education they need to thrive. The only way for me to ensure any given Thread-Weaver can make the best of his abilities is to put him through the same program that carried all other Thread-Weavers before him.”

  “You’re wrong,” Dan said. “The only reason I’m not planning to be his personal teacher all the way through the two or three and half years is because I don’t want to. I’m a level 10. I’m one of the best fighters and magic users the Terran Republic has ever produced. Maybe there are some subjects in which I fall short of in knowledge or ability to teach than the academy’s instructors, but that’s not a demerit against my ability to teach him those subjects effectively. If I had to, I could teach him all the core subjects and have him graduate just as knowledgeable and practiced as he should be.

  “You spoke of your niece, general. Do you truly believe that if you had personally overseen her education, tutored her in anything magical, that she’d be any worse for it? Did she actually get anything from being put through the Thread-Weaver program after she already had years to study under you? And even if the answer to all these questions is yes, it doesn’t matter. Sam Anders isn’t an average military recruit. He’s got the Supreme Commander of the Sarechi-Terran Armies in the East debating what to do with him.

  “The system isn’t applicable, made for people like him. Even if it was, he has no need for it. Not with people like us watching his every step. We built the system to ensure access to all who wished it, to ensure no one will fall through the cracks or behind because of faults not of their own. What use does he have for it at this point? If the teacher isn’t right for him, if he’s not learning something that he should, simply send someone else. There is no reason for us to miss him not receiving the education he should because he’s not a part of a true and trussed system.

  “And that’s besides the point, anyway. I don’t know if he’ll actually stay on this path he chose for himself. Whether it’s two or three years, who’s to say that in a year’s time he won’t breakdown and choose to retreat?”

  “He won’t,” Farris said.

  Dan frowned. “Why do you think so?”

  “I just do. I don’t think he will. I think he will stay on this path no matter what. Maybe I’m wrong. But it doesn’t matter. You’re right. We have here a rough diamond. We have to choose the best method to cut it without shattering it. So it’s better to risk him receiving subpar education, something that can always be remedied, then risking him… deviating from his chosen path. As you said, Sam Anders isn’t average, he’s the only one of his kind in history. So if he wants to finish his studies in two and a half years, we will have to do our best to accommodate him. And he’s much less likely to meet his goal if he’s studying here. The potential risk isn’t worth the assurance of gain from having him go through the program.”

  “So you’re agreeing only because of his insistence on finishing his studies in two and a half years? Shouldn’t that be the opposite?”

  “I’m not an idiot. I can’t let go of an opportunity like this. So even if this Sam was the farthest thing from military material, and expressed that fact by rejecting the possibility of coming to Maynil, I’d still send someone to teach him threads. I wouldn’t expect much from him in that case, but I’d still be willing to make an exception for him. So sure, if he can actually meet the requirements necessary for finishing his studies in two and a half years, then he should definitely be able to come study in Maynil. If his mental state would survive the former, it would definitely survive the latter. But, just like us, he is not infallible. The chances of his mental state surviving both of those is… pretty small. And I want to accommodate his choices, his wants before my own. So even if he will be able to come here in half a year, I’d rather him stay where he is if that means he’s able to meet his own goals.”

  “So you will send someone to teach him?”

  Farris released a breath. “Yes. But I will still have to meet with him before I decide. And whatever I decide, if it’s clear that he’s not going to meet his goal, then in half a year I will try to convince him to come study here. For the full three years.”

  “You want to meet with him?”

  “Of course. He’s the only one of his kind in history. Who wouldn’t want to meet with a person like that?”

  “So it would just be to satisfy your curiosity? It doesn’t have anything to do with whether you will send him a teacher?”

  “I already said that I’ll send someone whatever the case, as long as he’s still studying in the academy. But you’re right. This meeting won’t be just be to satisfy my curiosity. What you sent me,”—he waved his hand at the screen—“it wasn’t enough. I want to know who Sam Anders really is. What he likes. How he thinks. How he behaves. What I should think and expect of him.”

  “With all due respect… why?”

  “Why? Because I’ve taken a personal interest in this one-of-a-kind Taken. Because if I know what he’s like, that would let me know who the best person is to teach him about threads. Because I might have plans of my own for him. And most importantly, because I like him. He’s funny. I want to meet him in person simply because I want to meet with him.”

  Dan raised his hands up. “Alright… if you say so. I’m sure that he’ll be up to traveling to Maynil in half a year. He could meet with you then.”

  “You misunderstood me, Dan. I might already have plans for this man. I want to meet him much sooner than that. If he can’t come to Maynil, then I’ll come to New Terra.”

  “Eh… If you’re sure.”

  “I am sure. And I’ve got just the occasion…” Farris rubbed his knuckles along his lips, deep in thought. “Yeah, that works.” He turned to Dan. “You’re familiar, I assume, with the planned reforms to the Terran military?”

  Dan raised an eyebrow.

  “Right, silly question. So I’ll have to be at New Terra for that summit. I’ll meet with him then.”

  “It finally has a date, then?”

  “It is. Before too long. Like I said, I want to meet with him.”

  “You’re not… you’re not prematurely bringing forward the summit just to meet with him, right?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, the reform plans are practically drafted already. The summit can already be called tomorrow, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “I see. That’s… good. So what should I tell, Sam?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Yes, it would be funnier this way. When we finally meet.”

  “You want me to lie to him? Say nothing came of this meeting?”

  “Oh, he knows you were planning to talk with me? That’s even better. Just say that you’ve talked with me and I said I’ll take care of it. It’s not a problem. After all, I said that I’ll be sending him a teacher anyway. But don’t say anything else. Especially anything that might ruin the surprise.”

  “Right… fine.” Dan sighed. “If that’s what you want, general.”

  “Don’t look at me like that, colonel. This is a harmless joke that hurts no one. And benefits everyone. Me because I get to have a little fun. And Sam Anders because it lets him interact with me more naturally. If you tell him he has an interview with me, who knows how he’ll work himself up beforehand. Didn’t you read his files? He sufferers from anxiety!”

  “I’ve seen that. I’ve yet to see that in practice in his behavior, though.”

  “Really?” Farris laughed. “It’s right there. Well, never mind. Just don’t tell him anything. It’s better for all of us.”

  Dan nodded and made to get up. “Very well. Thank you for your time and consideration, general. I’m sure Sam would thank you as well once you two finally meet.” He gave a salute.

  Farris returned it, this time a bit more formally, and cut the call once Dan left the room. It was already well past six. Basil, Asuna, and the fate of the entire Terran military were waiting on him. But they could afford to wait a little longer. He opened the files on Sam Anders again. He wasn’t able to give them as much focus when reading them before. He almost missed the second dick joke Sam had made. I wonder how old I was when I first told a dick joke in front of a Ruler?

  Something about Sam Anders made Farris want to like the guy, for him to turn out the kind of person that Farris might call a friend. That went beyond his initial allure as a Thread-Weaver Taken. That facet of Sam Anders just made Farris develop fantastic ridiculous expectations, grandiose scenarios, childish delusions. A Thread-Weaver Taken being returned now could mean a lot of things. It could also mean nothing.

  And they wouldn’t matter anyway because Sam Anders’ role, Sam Anders’ purpose, Sam Anders’ future, were in his hands and his hands alone. Farris couldn’t come up to the guy and tell him, “Hey, your circumstances make it seem like we’re in a story. Want to play the hero?” All Farris could do was meet with the guy, talk to him, find out what he’s like and how to best put his talents and purpose to use. Farris would’ve probably done all that. Eventually. It was his job, after all.

  But as he continued reading, and continued thinking, he found himself thinking not just of what to question would help him put Sam Anders to the best use, but what questions would let him get to know Sam Anders best. He didn’t lie to Dan. Farris was driven by more than just professorial interest right now, more than just the necessity of his duties.

  There was nothing urgent about a Thread-Weaver Taken that couldn’t wait a couple more months, maybe even half a year, for Farris to meet with them. And even when they met, Farris’ only role would be to decide on the right teacher for him. There was no need to involve himself with the new Taken’s education. Hell, there might’ve not even been a need to meet him at all, and that was also just curiosity driving him. But not the same curiosity that drove him to want to meet Sam Anders now, as he read his files. Curiosity not because Sam Anders was the only one of his kind in history. But because Sam Anders was Sam Anders.

  He continued fretting in his mind for a minute or two more after he finished his second reading. Reviewing all the information he had. Making plans and discarding them. Making decisions and regretting them. He rubbed his eyes. He’ll have more time to think about this tomorrow. Sam Anders wasn’t going anywhere. He called Basil back in and they got ready for the call with Asuna, which started shortly after. But still Farris found himself distracted. Focused on things that had nothing to do with the state of the Terran Military. But possibly, still with the fate of the Web.

  “Yeah, she gave me the go-ahead. We can call the summit whenever,” he answered Asuna’s question off-handedly. And they could call the summit whenever, couldn’t they? He could. There was no reason not to. No major reason, at least. And there was a major reason to call it soon. Major for Farris. Major for San Anders. Maybe major for the whole Web.

  He started drumming his fingers on his desk. One plan was starting to coalesce. It was a tad ridiculous. Nonsensical. Over the top. But it would solve a lot of his problems. And it would help his sister deal with hers. Just his kind of plan. He asked, “How many days does it take on average for a Taken to have their Awakening?”

  Asuna and Basil stared at him, dumbfounded. “What? What does that have anything to do with this?” she asked.

  “I’ll look it up,” Basil said.

  “No need.” Farris shook his head. “I just remembered. It’s six days.”

  “OK… so?” Asuna motioned him to continue.

  “So I want to be on Terra in five days. I have an inkling that this guy will be shorter than average.” Farris chuckled to himself, barely noticing the confused looks of Basil and Asuna turning panicked.

  “You’re not serious, are you?”

  “I am. If we call for the summit tomorrow, we can have it start on Tuesday, can’t we? That’s five days.”

  “Three, you mean,” Basil said.

  “Counting from Thursday. Alright, that’s settled. Asuna let your people know after we finish today, or tomorrow. Basil let ours. I want to be on New Terran by Tuesday. Oh, and I might have to miss the opening couple of hours if my hunch turns out to be right.”

  He let their storm of objections was over him as he calmly nodded and finalized his plan. He will have them convinced, or compelled, easily enough. He was their boss, after all. And this impromptu decision of his wasn’t crazy enough to disobey his direct orders. Even if it didn’t have all those hidden positives that weren’t quite so clear to them just yet.

  No, he’ll have his immediate summit. He’ll have his meeting with Sam Anders. Hopefully, they’ll all get something out of this. Farris, enjoyment, a sense of contentment from carrying out one’s duties. Sam, the best education possible. Erianna, if his suspicions and plan prove true, a year off to fully focus on her training and education. And most of all, the Web, another bulwark against the Epiraks.