“Well?” Erianna Ninae smiled at him as they broke off the handshake. “May I come in?”

  Regaining some measure of composure, Sam held up a hand to stop her. “Just a moment.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Words are good and all, but I still need to make sure you’re not lying about who you are.”

  She let out a laugh as he retreated back into the room to pick up his phone. “OK, first of all, why the hell would anyone lie to you about that? What would I, they, gain by doing that? What, I need you to turn your guard down so I could kill you, and I can’t do that unless you invite me to into your room? Ooh! Am I a vampire?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Vampires aren’t real.”

  “Aren’t they?”

  Sam furrowed his eyebrows as he unlocked his phone. “Of course not. Unless… they are? Is there a type of vampire-like monster? That abides by the mythological rules concerning vampire behavior set down in popular pre-Integration Terran fiction?”

  “It’s the same rules for post-Integration Terran fiction. Of course vampires aren’t real. But thinking that they are is still more reasonable that thinking that someone has a reason to lie to you by telling you they’re me.”

  “Well… excuuuse me…” He snickered. “Sorry. Dumb joke. But I don’t agree with you. I think there’s nothing more reasonable that doubting the weirdo who knocked on your door at three in the morning.”

  “It’s closer to four, actually.”

  “When it’s this early in the day, you round down,” Sam said and held his phone in front of him, side by side with her face.

  “Are you really doing this?” Erianna raised an eyebrow.

  “I just need to make sure that you match the pictures.”

  “You do know that magic can be used for disguise, right?”

  “I did not know that. Is it better than plastic surgery?”

  “Way better.”

  “Are you using magic to make yourself look like Erianna Ninae?”

  “If you admit that I look like Erianna Ninae, why are you still holding that phone up to my face? That’s almost as rude as not knowing what I looked like in the first place.”

  “I don’t know… I think I’m still loopy from being woken up so early and abruptly. I was just joking, obviously. Trying to use humor to center myself and whatnot. But now I’m so deep that I don’t see a way out of the joke.”

  She shook her head sorrowfully. “If only there was a way for you to look past the visual deception created by tracings and patterns, and truly ascertain if I am who I say I am.”

  “Like calling Yvessa?”

  “Well… yeah, I suppose. That’s not where I was going, though…”

  “Yeah, I know. But I told you, I trying to come down from this hill I’ve dug using half-assed quips. Reason and logic just aren’t going to cut it.”

  “Then we are at an impasse.”

  “Seems so.”

  She sighed. “Well, if we must spend time pondering this solution, may I at least have a glass of water? I haven’t drunk anything since I got off the train.”

  “Oh yeah. Sure. Come on in. Take a sit. I’ll fill you up a glass. Or cup. Are princess allowed to drink from plastic cups?”

  “Only if the people who made them were either very underpaid or very overpaid for their labor,” she said as she brushed past him.

  “I think robots make plastic cups these days.”

  “That still works. They’re not being paid anything, after all.”

  Sam chuckled as he headed into the bathroom with the cup in hand. “Cold or warm?”

  “Cold please. I must say, this isn’t how I envisioned our first meeting to go. Also, while I appreciate your attempts at humor, the climax of the joke was quite disappointing, don’t you think?”

  “Well, unlike you, I hadn’t spent any time envisioning our first meeting. So forgive me if my gut reaction to it led us to a disappointing punchline.”

  “I dare say there wasn’t any punchline. Also, you hadn’t spent anytime envisioning our first meeting? Despite all we have in common? That’s quite rude.”

  “I’ll tell you what’s rude,” Sam said as he stepped back into the room, “knocking on—Hey! What the hell are you doing?”

  “What?” She gave an innocent shrug as she took the cup from him.

  “Don’t ‘what’ me. Why are you sitting on my bed?”

  “You said sit anywhere.”

  “No, I said take a seat.”

  “And I did.”

  “Yeah, the one spot you shouldn’t have.”

  “I don’t get it. What’s so bad about me sitting down on the softest surface available? You know, I asked Yvessa about the accommodations when she first got here, and she neglected to mention how comfortable the mattresses are for this being a public institution’s housing.” She stretched back on the bed while releasing a satisfied grunt.

  “What would you know about housing in public institutions?”

  “Same as you. Preconceived notions based on portrayal in pop-culture, mostly.”

  “That’s fair. Now, would you please get up?”

  She sighed. “Alright, fine. But I don’t get what the big deal is.”

  “The big deal is that I don’t want strangers sitting on my bed. That’s where I sleep.”

  She chuckled while taking a sit across from him. “What are you going to do in two years? When you’ll have to share your room with a bunch of other people.”

  “I’m going to use the shock of the first day’s experience to overwhelm my normal inhibitions and destroy any semblance of my current attitude towards personal space and privacy.”

  “And you can’t use the shock of meeting me for the first time to overwhelm your normal inhibitions just enough to create an exception in your attitude towards personal space when it comes to yours truly?”

  “Nope. I’m afraid I can’t.”

  “Alright. So what do I got to do in order to get to sit on that bed? Stop being regarded by you as a stranger, I assume? Which is, again, quite rude.”

  Sam waved her off. “You’re beating the rude joke into the ground harder than any botched attempted at a joke I’ve made so far. Look, if it’s that important to you, fine. You can sit on my bed.”

  “Great.” She bounced up from the chair and returned to her previous position.

  “You weren’t supposed to do that, you know. I was just being polite.”

  “Ah ah! So you admit you were being rude before.”

  “I admitted no such thing. More water?” he asked as she emptied the cup in one gulp.

  “I’m fine, thanks.” She smiled as she slowly exhaled before straightening her posture and looking straight at him. “So, can we start being serious? Get down to business?”

  Sam leaned back, examining her. “We’re done with slapstick humor, then?”

  “For now. Don’t worry, I know how integral your ability to make jokes is to conducting yourself in social interactions. It’s important to me too, which you would’ve known if you weren’t so self-important as to never bother learning anything about me.”

  Sam smiled. “So can we or can’t we talk like two normal, well-adapted people?”

  “We can certainly pretend to.” She smiled back. “But in all seriousness, I assume you have plenty of questions to ask of me before I can start on my whole spiel. So have at it.”

  “Alright. There are a few. Let’s start with the most obvious one: why are you here?”

  “Because you invited me in?”

  Sam shook his head with a slight laugh.

  “The other joke would’ve been to ask whether you were talking about me standing outside your doorstep in the middle of the night or about being here in New Terra.”

  “I assume the answer to both questions is the same.”

  “Not exactly,” she said. “Let’s start with the former. One, it’s funny. Two, I wanted to get started early. Three, I wanted to have time to talk with you alone. Time to figure you out for myself, by myself.”

  “Alright. The first one I understand. I’m guessing the other two have to do with your reason for being in New Terra.”

  “Yep. And that reason also has two explanations going for it. One, obviously, to do with you. And one… well, to do with me.”

  “Shouldn’t both explanations have to do with both of us?”

  “I’m talking from the perspective of what each one of us gets out of this arrangement.”

  “Alright, take your time. It’s clear that you’re stressed out about at least one of those perspectives.”

  “I’m not stressed out.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m just… I’m not comfortable talking about these kinds of things with people I’ve never met before…” She halted, waiting for him to say something.

  Sam held up his hands. “You said we were being serious. I’m not going to go for such low-hanging fruit. Especially not with someone who I’ve just met.”

  Erianna let out a light snort. “Alright. Thank you for that. So… the thing is that I also get something out of coming here to teach you. Wait, before that. Let’s start with the obvious. At the end of the day, the reason I’m here is Farris. He convinced me to be your teacher.”

  “Yeah, I figured as much. I mean, sure, I’m egotistical, but thinking that you’d decide on your own that you wanted to be the one to teach me and then set about convincing Farris of that is too far for even my ego. For now, at least.”

  “Really? I think you’re selling your ego short. Anyway, Farris got this idea into his head: that I’ll be the perfect person to teach you about threads.”

  “Which is the other explanation. The one pertaining to me.”

  “Exactly. But, because I’m not a moral, upstanding servant of the Web like my uncle, he also had to convince me that it was in my best personal interests to come here.”

  “One for you, one for me. Makes sense. One thing, though, when exactly did he set about trying to convince you?”

  “Literally the day after you first met.”

  “Wow.” Sam let out a breath. “That’s… Well, I can’t say that I’m surprised Farris had lied to me all this time. Or the entire time. He probably came up with that plan right after meeting me.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “You’re not giving him enough credit. He came up with it before meeting you.”

  “Although, I guess that’s not actually something he lied about. One of the main reasons he gave for coming to meet me was figuring out who would be the right teacher for me.”

  “Only he already had a person in mind before he met you. And just wanted to confirm whether his plan was viable. This also has something to do with another reason why he wanted me to be your teacher. One that doesn’t strictly have something to do with either of us.”

  “Alright. So are we going over that one first? Or are we going back to the reason that pertains to you?”

  She sighed. “Let’s keep that for later. So, back to the day after you and Farris first met. He came back from New Terra, leaving his all important summit in full swing, and set about trying to convince me to come here and teach you. The first reason he gave was simply coming here to new New Terra. I always wanted to visit, and he knew that better than anyone.”

  “You’ve never been here before?”

  “Here in your room? No, it’s my first time.”

  “How come?” Sam asked with a chuckle.

  “It’s not easy for the second child of the reigning Sarechi monrach to go visit places. Especially not abroad. There always have to be reasons. And even when those reasons are the most rational and logical in the world, there’s still going to be negative ramifications to that visit. And unfortunately, I’ve never had a good enough reason to visit New Terra. An official visit, that is.”

  “So this isn’t an official visit?”

  “Not at all. I’m not visiting New Terra. I am staying in New Point Academy in order to study and help facilitate the combat readiness of the allied armed forces. I am not here as a princess of Sarechal, but as a cadet of the Royal Academy.”

  “Alright, so I get the distinction between an official visit and you being here. At least I think I do. But what’s with you studying here? And ‘facilitating combat readiness?’”

  “That latter bit is mainly about me teaching you threads. Officially, I’m also here to help the Terrans and this academy better their training standards. That’s pretty much bullshit, though. But it’s the politically acceptable way of saying that I’m here to work on advancing the more institutional benefits that arise from a student exchange program. And to do that, of course, I would need to study here. As for me studying here… Did you think I came here just to teach you and sightsee?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t think about you at all before today.”

  “Rude.”

  “Also lying. So are you actually going to study here? Or is that just an ‘official’ excuse?”

  “I am going to study, yes. I might be ahead of my peers when it comes to my studies, but it’s still not enough to skip a year. Well… not if I want to maintain my lead. I’ll still be going to classes. Probably. And I’ll be getting one-on-one lessons in certain subjects, of course. Still, the majority of my time here will be spent on private endeavors, the same sort of training that I would’ve been able to do if I’d have stayed home: cultivating, combat, and tracings-patterns-work and so on. Provided I do end up staying here, of course.”

  “So that’s not a certainty?”

  She held up her hand. “We’ll get to that.”

  “Alright. So we’ve gone over your first reason, or sub-reason, I suppose—You know, this conversation has a lot of subsets, makes me feel like I’m back in uni writing a paper.”

  “What’s the difference between writing a university paper and writing a paper for a class in the academy?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t required to write any papers here just yet. Although… it’s funny. My instinctive answer was to say that the difference was, at least between what I studied then and what I’m studying here, is that the stuff we’re learning here is a lot more practical, that we’re dealing with definite terms and objective information. But… it’s… weird, you know? Cause we’re talking about magic, at the end of the day. It’s not… well, never mind.”

  “No, I get it. Your conception of what ‘magic’ is, or what the term ‘magic’ means, is different from what our conception of it is.”

  “My old conception, yes. One I still fall back to from time to time. Kind of hard to start knowing something after you had spent your entire life not believing in it.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Erianna said softly, with a sincere smile. Something told Sam that she wasn’t as good of an actor as her uncle is. Which made him wonder why and how she seemed to understand what he meant. “But if it makes you feel any better,” she continued, her face turning into a grin, “by treating magic like a science, we open ourself to the possibility of discovering something that disproves everything we thought we knew about it. Who knows, maybe you could make the entire Web share in your pain by making a fantastic discovery or two.”

  Sam smirked. “Make other people feel the same shit that I do? You really have done your homework about me.”

  “I’m a good person, aren’t I?”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I get the final say in who is and isn’t moral in this twisted post-apocalyptic world. But I’ve just realized that I’ve been the one that diverted us from my attempt at redirecting the conversation back on track. That’s probably a couple of negative points for me.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’m well aware of your proclivity to meander.”

  “And that’s a couple of points from you. No one likes a know-it-all.”

  “Is that why you’ve been having problem making friends?”

  Sam clicked his tongue. “Good try. I see were you where going with this. And I definitely respect the attempt. But it failed because you’ve built the whole framework of it on the assumption that you know me a lot better than I know you. And if that were true, then you would’ve known that this is literally the most popular I’ve ever been in my entire life.”

  “I had to say something. Couldn’t just let an obvious bait like that slide.”

  “No, definitely. I agree with that. But what you should’ve said is something more subjective. Like, ‘that explains why I’m already regretting agreeing to come here.’”

  “But that would also be objectively untrue.”

  “Sure, I guess. But I wouldn’t know that, right? So it would still work for the joke.”

  “Well if you wouldn’t have known that, it would’ve made for a very cruel joke.”

  “Good comedy has a price. Besides, you could’ve had a great big smile while saying that and it would’ve diffused all the negativity.”

  Erianna nodded, as though pondering the enormous insight Sam had just imparted upon her. “So… are you blaming me or you on this third sidetracking of the conversation?”

  “I’ll take the blame. You’re the guest who showed up unannounced outside my room in the middle of the night, after all. I should be showing you way more courtesy. And that’s before taking your position into account.”

  “Ugh… don’t remind me.”

  “I’m afraid I must. Since I’m using that to segue us back. So, we went over the first reason for what you had to gain by coming here to teach me. Well, we actually didn’t. We just covered the fact that you wanted to visit New Terra. We didn’t really answer why. But I’m sure we can both agree that it doesn’t really matter, right? Take in the sights, soak up the culture? These kinds of things.”

  “And get to spend time with my best friend.” She nodded.

  “Really? So soon. Why thank you. I’m still on the fence about you, though.”

  “Courtesy, remember?”

  “I’ll try to. And seriousness, yeah?”

  “Indeed.”

  “So, the second reason. I assume this is the one you don’t feel comfortable with other people about?”

  “Talking to strangers. And yes.”

  “Good to know I’m no longer a stranger.”

  “I think you stopped being that a couple of minutes after I first heard who you are. My uncle’s ramblings have that effect. And as for your second assumption… you’re right. This reason does have to do with my position.”

  Sam grimaced. “Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to be so familiar. At least not on a topic you might be—“

  “Don’t be.” She waved him off. “I appreciate your attempt at levity. If not brevity.”

  “Still, I promise to keep the levity to a minimum for this part of your explanation.”

  “And I’ll try to do the same for brevity.”

  “Eh… take your time. It’s not like I’ll be able to go back to sleep. So I’ve got a couple of hours to kill. Might as well fill it up with convoluted conversation.”

  “Hm… convoluted is probably the right word. Alright, so… Ugh,” she sighed while wringing her hands. Scrunching her face, she took a couple of seconds to gather her thoughts while, for the first time since they met, pointedly avoiding looking at Sam. “OK, I thought a lot about how to explain this to someone I’ve just met. The half-baked explanation I came up with isn’t really coherent and there’s definitely a way to explain this crap in a few words. Sort of like you already did. But just bear with me, alright?”

  “Of course. Take your time.”

  Erianna nodded, but kept her frown. “Tsk. I’m making myself sound some like sort of… fuck, I don’t know. Whatever. Let’s just get over with this and go back to talking about stuff that I feel comfortable joking and don’t have a weird mental block about. So, like you said, the first reason Farris gave me to come here was enjoying New Terra. That’s the simple one. For the second reason, I’ll start by using the moral justification he gave me. Sorts of.”

  “Moral justification?”

  “Yeah. Forgive me if I get anything wrong. Or if Farris did. He was high on meeting you and decided to co-opt some of your terminology and thinking process. As for me, I’ve never been one for philosophy. And the only knowledge I have of Terran philosophy I got from shows and books and the like. So I know pretty much nothing.”

  “Maybe. Depends on which books and which shows. So what sort of moral justification Farris gave you for why you should be my teacher? Come here to be my teacher, I should say.”

  “He used utilitarianism.” Erianna smiled.

  “Mgh…” Sam let out an exaggerated grunt. “The backstabbing bastard.”

  “His argument rested on the fact that I have certain… moral obligations which I have to fulfill as long as I’m in Maynil. And that by going to New Terra, I would no longer have to fulfill those obligations as they would be unavailable to me. But, he would pick up my slack, amongst other things changing, which would still result in a net utility gain as far as the… subjects I’ve been obligated to were concerned.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. This is the first time I’m hearing myself saying this out loud. And it’s even more ridiculous than I thought it would be.”

  “Yeah, stop worrying about this, will you, princess?” Sam waved her off. “We’re talking about ethics. Sure it’s the middle of the ni—morning, but it’s not like there would’ve ever been a point in my adult life where I wouldn’t have been glad to forgo a good night’s sleep in order to hear about the moral dilemmas that royalty are faced with. Especially if it came from the mouth of said royalty themselves. Well, I’m assuming this stuff is about being royalty, of course. But I think we both know that I’m well aware of where you were ultimately going with your ‘awful, convoluted’ explanation. My point is: don’t worry about me. Take your time.”

  “Hm…” Erianna pursed her lips before twisting them into a light smile. “I definitely prefer the version of you that can’t say two sentences without cracking a joke. You’re not as fun when you’re being sincere.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll get plenty of the former. And soon enough, you’ll grow tired and annoyed with both.”

  “Maybe I already have. Would it be remiss if I asked you the refill my water?” She picked up the cup and waved it in front of her.

  “Yes, it would. You’re confirming stereotypes. Oh well…” He got up with a fake sigh. “You are a guest, I suppose.” He took her cup from her and headed back into the bathroom. When he came back, he handed her the cup and picked up his bottle from the foot of the bed before returning to his seat. He took a deep swig and signaled for her to continue.

  “Yeah, so you were right. I’m not sure why I had to go through this roundabout way of saying this. But, those ‘moral obligations’ have to do with my position as a royal, princess, whatever. Well, they really have to do with me performing certain… social, cultural, and political functions in order to further the interest of the Kingdom of Sarechal. Of course, it’s actually to strengthen the position of my mother and the royal family; further their interests. But those are supposed to be synonymous with the kingdom’s, so… But you probably know all about how Sarechal works by now.”

  Sam nodded. “Not as well as Yvessa does. And definitely not as well as you. But I’m probably as familiar with the broad strokes of it as any—non-brain-dead, at least—politically ambivalent Sarechi citizen.”

  “Do you actually recognize the possibility of a person being politically ambivalent and not brain-dead?”

  “Wipe that smirk off of your face, will you? I told you already, no one likes a know-it-all.”

  “Of course, forgive me. And forgive me this one correction, but I can’t have you thinking that I’m better than I really am. If it is indeed the case that Yvessa isn’t as well versed in domestic politics as I am, then that’s only because she’s not as immersed in them as I have to be; forced to participate, twenty-four-seven. You should look up to her as the real expert out of the both of us. Me? I hate the stuff. That’s the whole point. The main benefits for me coming here.”

  “Hate what exactly?”

  “All of it. Or almost all of it. Probably enough for you to brand me as a brain-dead, politically ambivalent idiot. If it was up to me, I wouldn’t have wasted a single minute learning about all the… political shit I had and will have to do.”

  “All the political shit?” Sam asked.

  “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. If we’ll have time, we can go over my childhood curriculum and judge each subject one-by-one. I just wanted to get across the fact that I don’t share Yvessa’s—and yours, I suppose—interest and inquisitiveness in the type of subjects that my mother and brother have to deal with daily.”

  “But that’s the whole reason, right? You’ve already gone through having to spend time on studying politics. And I’m guessing that you’re not gaining any extra time by exchanging state functions with teaching me.”

  “You’re right. It’s not only about me not wanting to waste time at state functions and royal balls. I mean, of course I don’t. I’m sure you feel the same way about… wasting time.”

  “Yep.” Sam nodded. “Maybe even more than you. If you’re not already aware, efficient usage of time is one of my main objectives in life. And one of the main causes for negative emotions.”

  “Right. And I’m probably not at that level. Not to mention that I do have time to spare, I suppose. More than you, at least. Time I could sacrifice in order to fulfill ‘moral obligations.’ And it’s not like helping my mother is anathema to one of my main objectives in life. That is helping fight against the Epiraks. I’m still helping, only in a different way than making myself personally stronger.”

  “When you put it like that. It sounds like the forces opposed to your mother are sort of arrayed against the objective of fighting against the Epiraks.”

  “Yeah… But thankfully it’s only a matter of a difference of approach. Theirs is shit and we should disregard it and them completely. But be it as it may, I’m still helping the war effort by helping my mother. Or at the very least, I’m still helping make the world, my kingdom, a better place. From how I see it, of course. So you, and I am talking about you, could find a way to justify this usage of time, even if it takes away from my time training and getting stronger.”

  “So what’s the other half of the benefit?”

  “Like I said, I don’t like doing that shit, no matter whether or not I have the time. I’ll give you an example: The day Farris first came to talk to me about teaching you, I was pretty… I wasn’t my best self. Mentally and emotionally. That’s because I had just come from performing a full day’s vigil. That’s twenty-four hours spent stuck in a room without food or water. A show of appreciation from the Royal Academy to its noble graduates who perished in the kingdom’s wars.”

  “Hm… I’m assuming by your tone of voice that the ‘nobility’ of the graduates isn’t describing their personality traits, nature, and bearing?”

  “Nope. It’s their heritage and social standing.”

  “Heritage and social standing that they received solely through their own actions and character?”

  She raised her eyebrow as her mouth curved slightly. “I’m afraid not. Nice try, though.”

  “Alright. So obviously, doing a vigil would just straight up suck any day of the week. No eating. Not drinking. Shit, not sleeping, I assume. We’re not getting any pleasure out of that, that’s for sure. But, we might still get some pleasure from fulfilling our moral obligations, even if we don’t believe in the thing, other people might and it could help them feel better.”

  “Only I don’t give a shit whether the people who might care about this vigil feel better or not.”

  “That’s two against.”

  “But I do care what those people think about my mother. My uncle. Their plans and policies.”

  “And that’s at least three for.”

  She nodded with a sigh. “Exactly. That’s pretty much the whole deal. I’ve spent my entire life dealing with my ‘moral obligations’ by acting as a political tool in my mother’s arsenal. Most of that involved those kinds of awful events. Hell, I even had to attend birthday parties and weddings.”

  “Ugh.”

  “See? So the second thing I get from coming here is not having to do all of that stuff.”

  “The absence of negative utility.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Of course… it still remains to see whether you actually end up gaining utility from this exchange.”

  “You think you’re going to make for worse company than a room full of selfish, arrogant, idiotic assholes?”

  “Well, sure, I’m not a whole room, only one man. But I’m certainly going to try.”