I had never been a good student. There had been a lot of pressure for me to excel – and I’d really wanted to – but there was usually so much effort I could muster for boring stuff, and that applied in heaps when it came to school and studying. Through a bit of work, though, I’d been able to come up with system, using personal incentives to make sure I did the stuff I wasn’t enthused about.

Those were lessons I tapped into as prepared something of a lesson planning. Magic was something I wanted to study and it would be the perfect reward, while learning about this world’s history and geography – something more useful in the short term that magic was something I was already dreading.

Five minutes of magic for every ten minutes I spend actively on the important stuff, I thought to myself as I prepared my workstation in the study, psyching myself up even though I knew it wouldn’t last very long.

But first I would take a peek at what the magic book had to offer.

The introductory chapter covered the spatial sense: the sensory range was dependant on the size of the gem, but could be augmented through diagrams; the maximum range could not be changed by mental work, but it could be narrowed for better use. Through meditation I would be able to filter the type of beings I perceived – adding or reducing them – and build upon the impressions so I could get a dimensional impression of the people within my range.

A lot of potential, but it wouldn’t be an easy feat to master these abilities.

The book suggested range capacity as a first step and that was where I started. I imagined that there extended a bubble around me, within which was were sensations. It was tempting to think about shrinking the bubble, but the book warned against that – when one wishes to listen to one voice within a sea of conversations, one does not block themselves all other voices; but they narrow their focus, choosing a set of voices as an anchor until all else bleeds into the background.

That was the state I wanted, so I focused on the impressions outside my door, using them to root my focus and letting everything else dull. The state was delicate, prone to being startled away when it felt like I was close.

Calm. Collected. Patient. Smart.

They were a mantra that meant I didn’t grow irritated when things didn’t come easily.

I interspersed reading on the geography of Althor and a bit about the dukes and earls between meditation, but the effort was perfunctory at best.

You have to put in more of an effort, I reminded myself. If not for the knowledge, then because of Odysseus. He liked history and my survival in the palace hinged on him liking me. If he and I shared similar interests, it would build our relationship.

I was disturbed from my study by seven impressions who had stopped at my elevation. They exited the elevator and started down the hallway that would take them into my room. Keeping myself from panicking I hid the magic book but left all the notes I’d jotted down – hopefully Odysseus would see them and appreciate the effort.

The doors opened to reveal Odysseus and six other, two guards carrying large boxes and four men wearing fancy clothes.

“I trust you have had a good rest, Champion?” he said.

I shook my head. “I was busy, getting started on the history of Althor and the Commonality.”

Odysseus smiled. “Truly? What book are you reading?”

“Uh…I can’t remember its title, but it’s a general overview of the Commonality,” I said.

Odysseus tsked. “I can guess which it might be,” he said, a little frustrated. “Not the best book for beginners, not to mention the author had a way of making even the most interesting topic a bore. I will have to loan you one from my library. It should explore Althor in greater detail, a task which should be your priority. Though that is not the work of today. Champion, I would introduce you to Philip the Tailor.”

“Greetings, Champion,” said Philip. He and his people bowed.

“Well met, Tailor,” I said. Odysseus beamed.

“Philip will begin his measurements,” he said, “as well as showing you some designs. You are free, of course, to have him create something that is entirely your own.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“After he is done I will allow you a pick of some accessories,” he said, gesturing towards his guards. “Philip, if you would begin.”

And then I was relegated to an object.

Philip’s work didn’t need my brain and it was tedious enough that I could sort of tune it all out, settling into a meditative state. My eyes found one of the guards and I used him as an anchor, focusing completely on him at the expense of everything else. I started to feel it, everything else getting fuzzy while the impression of him started to get starker, with the glimmers of something more.

A burst of excitement almost made me lose the state. It was one of the advanced techniques, getting a person’s dimensional impression. What had the book said?

The segment is the starting point. Break the body apart into its various segments, visualising them fully in one’s mind and transposing them over the target. One should not strive for complexity at first – only the great masters can do this with ease – no, simplicity should be the goal much as a child first begins their forays into the visual arts with stick figures.

So did that, thinking of the man as segments. A line for the body then two shooting out for the legs and arms. The head was much harder because it was a circle, but I focused on the image in my head while almost glaring at the guard.

The man noticed and his expression shifted in confusion, so I close my eyes seeing if the impression stayed when it didn’t have sight to help it along.

It did! But it was harder to hold, liable to breaking apart at the slightest distraction.

“You must be tired, Champion,” Odysseus said. My meditative trance fell apart. I did my best to tamp down my irritation. “You look dead on your feet.”

“Maybe a little. Your Highness,” I said and sighed. If he was in a conversational mood, I wouldn’t be able to let myself drift. Doubling frustrating when I was making progress.

“We are almost done,” said Philip who was now working on my legs.

“Can I also get some shoes?” I asked. “None of the ones I have are a good fit.”

“We have a cobbler on staff, my lord,” said Philip, not looking up. “I can have him called up.”

“Yes. Do,” said Odysseus. “The sooner we are done, the better. Allycea is no doubt already missing you,” he joked.

“Is she still training?”

“No. She had engagements to attend. Baroness Samantha Radthorne of the Whispering Glade sought my sister’s company as she mourns the death of her husband.”

“What happened to him?”

“He died in battle,” he said. “Protecting Althor from Rowan’s incursion. The Baroness chose to mourn in Malnor castle instead of her lands. No doubt lesser lords seek to marry her so they might claim her wealth. They are fortunate that the Baroness is not with child.”

“Because that would be bad for them?”

Odysseus nodded lazily. “There is a pettiness in these minor lords,” he said. “They seek to gain whatever advantage they can to raised themselves into the titled ranks. If she were to have a child, the title of Baron would not be theirs. The husband would only be a custodian until the true heir takes their title.”

I shook my head a little. “Can you explain that for me? I mean, would His Highness do me the honour of an explanation. Like what those titles mean? I’ve heard about Dukes in my world but…I never grokked it.”

Odysseus laughed. “I am surprised by you, Champion, I will admit. You have shown quite a command for the language.”

My heart started to beat a little faster. “I mean, yeah. I learned from the Memory Sphere your father — His Majesty — gave me.”

“That he did,” he said, “by the workings of the Sphere you gained an intuitive ability to translate the words of your language into ours. But you exhibit a technique which takes a while to learn, both in your accent which is otherwise pleasant save here or there, and in integrating the words of your own language into ours.”

I swallowed. “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I’m used to a lot of languages in my country,” I said, voice a little tight. “There’s a lot of them that I don’t understand but you sort of learn how they work and how to mix and match.”

“Perhaps,” he said and he shrugged. “To your question. There is king and queen, prince and princess, duke and earl, and lastly baron as the peers to the nobility. The king rules all, but Althor is divided into duchies ruled over by a duke or an earl; these duchies are further divided into lesser lands ruled over largely by barons.”

“So these peers set the rule for the places they live in?”

“They are the owners of their lands,” he said. “Setting the laws as they deem fit, though there are the laws of the kingdom set by the king which they cannot break.”

“So, what are minor lords?” I asked. “How does a person become a minor lord?”

“Through birth. The heir takes on the lowest title under their father’s rule. The first son of a duke would have the title of baron, though they would have none of the land or advantages; while the rest of their children would be lords or ladies.”

“Needing to marry to get their own title?” I asked, at which Odysseus nodded. “Does all this mean that Surefoot isn’t a duke but a baron?”

“No. The Urocy people do not entirely hold to our customs,” he said. “Surefoot is a duke with all the powers attached, second only to his father and mother.”

“Why?” I said and in remembering there was a history continued, “If His Highness would do me the honour of an explanation.” There wasn’t any heart in the words.

“The Urocy of the Elmwood Dens discovered celestial gems that gave them leveraging power,” he said, and didn’t expand.

“Okay,” I said as I worked to form a mental picture, drawing parallels to my world for how the government functioned. “Are the dukes the ones who are going to be here when the Healers arrive?”

Odysseus nodded. “Dukes and earls, as well as some nobles from Susserton, Connelly and the Sunward Empire,” he said.

I tried to recall the map I’d seen. Susserton and Connelly were the northward and southward neighbours of Althor, both of which shared borders with Washerton. Unlike the Sunward Empire, which was on the other side of the Commonality, the smaller kingdoms had much more of a stake in Althor’s victory or failure.

“You’re trying to get them to your side?”

“Yes,” said Odysseus. “It is the smart thing to do.”

“Okay,” I said, putting that at the back of my mind. I still didn’t know a lot the war or its dimension, but if they wanted to impress Susserton and Connelly, then I had to impress them too. “How many duchies are there?”

“Eighteen, though there are not the same number of dukes and earls. Some duchies belong to Father to collect incomes. There are counts who look over them, gaining a small measure of the profits, though unlike the other nobility, their office cannot be passed on to any of their progeny. My great-grandfather, Perseus, introduced the office of viscount, which is a lesser count, and they look over baronies whose families have died out.”

“Okay,” I said. “This is all too much. I’m not sure what to do with it.”

“Now? Nothing,” he said. “These structures will have to become second nature, though I do not expect it so in mere minutes. Be at ease and take solace in that you at least have known to ask the right questions.”

I smiled a little and looked down. How stupid was it that I actually felt pride at the complement?

“I’m done, my lord,” said Philip, almost surprising me in how quiet he and his stuff had been. “Now we have only to wait for the cobbler. As we do, I will show you some of the latest fashions as well as materials that might be to your tastes.”

“Okay,” I said. “But I’m going to do all that sitting down.” I walked over to Odysseus, almost sat before everything kicked in. “May I sit, Your Highness,” I asked.

“You may,” he said with a gesture.

During the next hour there were a lot of nos – how Odysseus and Philip wanted me to dress were styles I was unfamiliar and uncomfortable with. There were pants which were too big or became puffy around the hips, other stopped too short and were paired with pantyhose, and leather pants which were too complicated.

“I know there’s no chance of this happening,” I said, “but does this world have jeans?”

“Yes,” said Philip. “They are commoner fashion in Kent, Connelly, Araknas and the southern tip of Washerton.”

It was easy to overlook the role Champions had played in this world’s history. I sent out a small thought of thanks to the one who had invented jeans.

“I’ll want those,” I said.

“The clothes of commoners?” Odysseus asked, barely able to restrain his affront..

“Yeah?” I said with a shrug. Before he could say anything I turned to Philip – there wasn’t a lot of control to be had in this place, but clothes were one of those things that would be good for my sanity. “Can I also see some of the styles of those places? If they have jeans they might have clothes I’m comfortable in.”

Philip frowned. “I don’t have them on hand, my lord. But I know of a few tailors who might do the job well in the city.”

“Please get them for me,” I said.

Philip looked at Odysseus and the prince nodded.

“In the interim you should choose from our styles,” the prince said. “So that you might fit in.”

“As you say, Your Highness,” I said, noncommittally.

Shirts were next, altogether much easier than pants because there were only so many variations. But they were even there I had to make personal concession, too many of them felt like blouses with frilly collars or with drawstring instead of buttons at the front.

“This is the reason your servants are so important,” said Odysseus when I made the frustrated observation. “They are trained in how to properly dress you in a variety of styles. Do not be afraid to use them.”

“This all feels strange,” I muttered.

“Have you no servants where you are from?”

“No. Being a servant is demeaning, tied to a past we’re still trying to move past.”

“Oh?” he said, suddenly interesting. Then frustration swept through his features. “You will have to leave that tale for another time. We should continue.”

I nodded and gathered the mental fortitude. There were capes. I wanted one, but worried I’d look like a dork if I wore them – even though they were common fashion in Althor. Odysseus convinced me to pick a few different forms. There was under no obligation to wear them, only have them. I appreciated the push.

My last request were t-shirts, simple in design, but easier to wear than the blouse-like shirts.

“I want a lot of them,” I said.

“A lot, my lord?” he said.

“A lot,” I said. “Preferably made out of cotton. They can be single colour or you can go wild with designs. I want some with short sleeves and others with long sleeves. But a lot.”

“How many is a lot?” he asked.

“A week’s worth,” I said, with a shrug.

“As you please, my lord,” said Philip.

Odysseus besides me smiled. “I see you are taking to command well,” he commented, which left a bitter taste in my mouth.

But that aftertaste disappeared when the boxes were open to show me the assortment of jewellery that I could pick from.

“Oh,” I said, through a laugh, “I’m loving this.”

There was a lot of gold, rings of all sizes, widths and workmanship. There was a solid gold chain that I took without thinking to put on – it was too large and looped twice around my neck, but it still sat well. There were studs in gold or silver, with rubies, emeralds or sapphires on them, all bent and twisted in cool shapes.

I tried them all.

By the end, my fingers were heavy with gold and my ears cold with silver.

“You enjoy the jewellery?” Odysseus asked.

“You have no idea how much,” I said, smiling.

“I will call a jeweller,” he said. “As you did with the clothes you will design custom sets. We were lucky that we both have such thin fingers, but even then, I can see that the rings are quite loose.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” I said, meaning it for what felt like the first time.

“For now we will have to work on colour matching,” he said. “There is nothing so tacky as wearing all your colours together. It will make others think you are a beggar baron.” He sighed. “The cobbler is late. We should meet my sister to continue your training, you will have your feet measured another time.”

I couldn’t stop myself from groaning.

Odysseus laughed.

***

Marksmanship practice didn’t suck. I enjoyed the feel of the heavy gun in my grasp, the power of the kickback after a shot, the loud bang that reverberated and the bloom of bright light as a fireball was released. It helped that Ellora was a better tutor than Jaslynn.

After Ellora’s lessons I was back again with Jaslynn who threw leather balls at me that I had to dodge – not fun.

In the evening I had dinner with Odysseus, which felt like more work after a very long day. I had to take excess to remember how to eat, focusing on how I sat and partnering that with how to engage in polite conversation.

My first day ended with me feeling completely swamped and it only got worse when tutors joined the picture, filling more of my day and leaving less and less time.

Training my body, minutes of rest and then going to learn about which duchy was where and what their primary incomes were; which families had rivalries between each other and how past rivalries had been quelled through alliances of marriage; Odysseus even got a calligraphy tutor because my handwriting was atrocious.

At the end of my first week in Althor I already felt at wits end, so tired that if learning magic felt like a chore.

Calm and collected, I reminded myself, but it was all starting to be too much. There was just no time or energy to do anything. I should have been thinking about ways to escape but eking out some magical practice, I fell to slumber too quickly to reflect and ruminate.

The small improvements in my spatial sense were the only spot of happiness in an otherwise dreary existence.

“I haven’t seen Surefoot in a while,” I said.

Almost a month had passed and I’d seen only a select few people – the prince and princess, Allycea’s friends, my tutors and my servants. I wanted a breath of fresh air – I honestly wanted a visit from Cicero – but I knew that wouldn’t get me on Odysseus’ good side. Which was why my question had been about Surefoot.

“He returned to Briarpatch a while ago,” said Odysseus. “Likely to report on the goings-on of the castle.”

Something niggled in my mind, an incongruity in behaviour that had confused me at the time. “Is that why His Highness brought him to see me?” I asked. “So Surefoot could tell his father about me?”

Odysseus smiled. “I knew you were smart Champion,” he said. He nodded. “Dukes Suddenstep and Quickwit are likely to be in attendance when you are tested, the latter more than the former. Through Surefoot they will know you as a man of truth, making them predisposed to liking you.”

“You planned all that from when we first me?” I asked, feeling uneasy. Odysseus was smart and a manipulator, which meant I had to be doubly aware of how he treated me, making myself harder to get tricked.

He smiled again. “Knowing history enables me a better view of the future than most,” he said.

“If you say so, Your Highness,” I said, keeping a yawn from materialising. My mind was tired for the day and I wanted to mentally check out, so I asked Odysseus how the Duchy of Harrengrove – colloquially called the Elemental Line – had been unified.

Unbridled excitement washed over his expression and with high spirits he began his explanation.

As smart as he was, he was still human though, and that meant what he loved could be used to manipulate him. I half-listened to his words, knowing he would appreciate it when I inserted this story in conversation at some point in the future.

***

Odysseus didn’t have friends.

It was not hard to notice that while Allycea and her ladies-in-waiting were sometimes absent in training exercise – off in the company of other ladies or frolicking with lords in the castle – the prince was always there when I went to find him; always in his study with his nose in a book. I was the only person he seemed to spend a lot of time with, and though he didn’t see me as an equal, I was starting to feel that he’d glommed on to me.

I leaned into it. If he was lonely, then I wanted to be his support. I wanted him to hesitate if it ever came to throwing me under the bus.

But these idle thoughts were against the background of training and studying, no time to be on my own, always with something to do. I was always in the castle, moving from one room to another, with my only view of the outside world being the picture of the city from my balcony.

I couldn’t help but feel like livestock, kept from succulent grass by a fence. There were gaps through it, enough that I could get my head through and stretch my neck, getting closer; but I could never reach it, only growing my yearning.

Every day that passed frustration built and built, and then flipping, becoming an emptiness that made it hard to care.

“I need a break,” I finally said. I had been in another world for two months but I hadn’t felt any of it, stuck in a loop. Allycea and I were the only people on the training grounds, my arms and sides aching after some close-combat training.

“A break?” she said, confused. “Our training has only begun.”

A low frustration bubble in my stomach, and that paired with a general disinterest made me want to mouth off. Through gritted teeth I sucked in a breath, leaning on Odysseus’ lessons to traverse the conversation.

Allycea was of higher standing and I wasn’t supposed to give her any orders, instead I was supposed to allude and make suggesting feel like her idea. All of it made conversations doubly draining when I was at a low-energy point, having to overthink my when through it.

“Sorry for not being clear, Your Highness,” I said slowly, first testing the words in my mind. “I just mean that I need a day, or maybe more, to recoup. To…chill. Your Highness.”

“We do not have the time, Champion,” she said. “You should be hard at work to get stronger.”

“But this is the perfect time,” I said, my irritation bleeding into my tone. Fuck, I thought as I noticed Allycea’s expression begin to curl. I really wasn’t good at talking the way they wanted. I swallowed, then, “Your Highness, I’m tired, mentally, and if I don’t get time to relax, to recoup that energy, then I might be more liable to making mistakes in the meeting with the high lords.”

“A good night’s sleep is rest enough.”

“No, though,” I said, unable to bite the words back.

Why couldn’t it be easy to get these people to look out for me?

I hated that I was having to constantly think of myself as lower in status to Allycea. It felt like a disservice to all the people who had fought and died so that people like me were free. I wasn’t supposed to be thinking like this, I wasn’t supposed to be beholden to people like Allycea, Odysseus and their parents.

But I had no choice. It was either pride or survival.

“Maybe Her Highness already knows,” I said, slowly and carefully, keeping a tight leash on my building outrage. “But there are different types of being tired – that of the body and that of the mind. One can be cured by sleep, but another is aided by time and the ability to do what one enjoys. My body is fine, you’re trained to work it without it breaking, but my mind…I’m close to breaking, Your Highness.”

I hated myself for showing vulnerability. She could just brush it off and I had no idea what I would do if she did.

Allycea crossed her arms, hard eyes taking me in.

“Sir Dean, my master, has described feeling similarly when he was at war – a deep emptiness that lingered as the battles drew on. This feeling was not placated by battle and persisted long after. I thought him womanly, in those moments.”

“It’s not a woman thing. Your Highness. It’s a people thing. I’ve heard people talking about the same feelings that I have, that Sir Dean had – feeling stuck. It never turns out well if they stay in that place.”

Allycea let out a long breath, closing her eyes. “I must admit,” she said slowly, “that I have felt a similar feeling. Travel to Altheer has been impossible since the mage’s betrayal. It has meant that my ladies and I have been unable to visit the Arena.”

“What’s that?” I asked, sitting down. Allycea did the same thing, crossing her legs, putting her hands at her knees and sitting with her back straight. She and her brother were alike in some ways but different in others. I didn’t think I could have gotten away with sitting first in Odysseus’ company.

It probably had something to do with Cybill who wasn’t a lady. Allycea would have been forced to dealing with the idiosyncrasies of regular interactions with commoners.

“The Arena is housing for ‘illegal’ fighting in Altheer. Merchants, and nobles train and sponsor fighters who duel for glory in their name.”

“Is that why they’re not closed down?” I asked. “Because important people are part of it?”

“Matthaeus told me it was another form of war,” she said smiling sadly. “Odysseus would know better than I, but compacts were reached which formed the Commonality. The borders were declared, and it was decided that there would be no more war. But disagreements still occur and houses want the glory of victory, the Arena and other challenges of honour are a way towards that.”

Why are they illegal, then? I wanted to ask, but there was a more important question.

“Matthaeus,” I said. “Is he a friend or a lord?”

“Matthaeus is my older brother,” she said with a raised brow. “Has Odysseus not told you of him?”

I shook my head. “Most of what Odys—His Highness does is teaching me,” I said. “Niceties, decorum, fixing the things you didn’t like when we first met.” Her expression didn’t change at the joke. I continued, “Sometimes we talk about history, but—”

She snorted. “Odysseus has a great love for his stories. Whenever he gets the chance he will talk your head off.”

“I don’t mind,” I lied. “You’re the first person I’ve really talked to in a while. About things that don’t feel important. Just chatting. If that isn’t presumptuous to say, Your Highness.”

Allycea shrugged and turned to silence. It drew on and worry built that she might want us to get back to training. Socialising could be as draining as physical activity, but if I geared it right, she would fill up most of the talking space.

“What happened to him? Matthaeus?” I asked. “Is he…?”

“He is alive,” she said, stiffly. “At least as far as I know. He left us,” she muttered. “Saying nothing and disappearing in the night.”

“That…sucks,” I said.

Allycea looked away. More silence. She was harder to get talking than Odysseus.

“We have something like the Arena back home,” I said. “A few things like that, actually. Wrestling, boxing, MMA and probably more I’m not remembering. Do you watch these shows?”

Allycea grinned. “No, Champion. I participate. Of course, I am a princess and many would balk at harm me. Which is why I have chosen Eldon as my persona for rings.”

“Eldon is a guy’s name,” I said. “Is that because only men can fight?”

“No,” she said. “It is to better hide my true identity. They think me a man with dark hair.” She pointed at her eye and tapped it, the swirl of colour changed into a green eye. “And through the luminous arts I have given myself the rare trait of differently coloured eyes.”

“Can I ask about the eye?” I asked. “Did something happen?”

“You may not.”

I nodded. “Okay. That’s cool,” I said, my stride broken. It was better to stick to what had worked. “It must suck that you haven’t been able to go there for a while.”

She crossed her arms, but instead of looking annoyed she seemed tired. “Greatly,” she admitted. Allycea smiled but it was dark. “No doubt with my absence Eldon’s glory has been greatly diminished. I yearn to be him once more so I might reclaim it.”

“Why can’t you go? Can’t you just sail over the lake?”

“Father has forbidden us leaving the castle,” she muttered.

“Aren’t you the crowned princess?” I asked. “You could just not listen to him?”

“No,” she said.

I shrugged. “Isn’t there anything else that’s fun to do around here? Gotta admit, I’ve been a little bored with my schedule.”

She grinned and a certain light touched her eye. It didn’t take long to realise that I’d made a mistake. “You did say you wanted something new. Perhaps a spot of danger might be the perfect tutor.”

“Uh…”

“I will tell Odysseus that tomorrow you shall be mine for the entire day,” she said, a manic energy oozing off of her. “For tomorrow we hunt.”

“Hunt what?” I said, the words catching in my throat.

“Spiders,” she said. “It has been a long time since I have enjoyed eggs I had personally gathered. It will be a rousing excursion into the depths of Malnor castle, into the old mines.”

“What, like normal spiders, or is this something like—”

“Worry not, Champion,” she said excitedly. “My ladies will have you protected if there is need. All will be well, and after the thrill of battle, we will enjoy a feast for our efforts.”