Sam inched close to being happy when he discovered no physical discomfort greeting his mind as his mind greeted consciousness the following day. It seemed he wasn’t just speaking out of his ass when he downplayed Sarah’s worries yesterday, and that Maurice’s help really did roll back the fatigue in his body. Hopefully that meant that as long as he kept to the same old physical regimen in the future, then his body won’t be the reason why he might veer off of that regimen.

  Silencing the alarm and wiping the last remnants of a barely felt dream from his mind, he got up and made his way to the bathroom. Despite his “achievement” on Saturday, he still wasn’t up to going back to meditating twice in a day. So after getting dressed, he tried spending the rest of his free time cultivating, but he quickly got bored and annoyed with his half-hearted attempts, so he stopped after a few minutes and started watching some videos instead.

  Should I feel bad about that? He wondered as he made his way downstairs once the half an hour was about to run out. Sure, Web-Web still hasn’t told me anything, but maybe they’re just waiting until I reach a critical point or whatever? Trying not to waste more of their energy by lecturing me at the best time? I don’t fucking know. They said that they’ll contact me if I’m slipping, so I just need to trust that as long as they haven’t, then there’s no reason for me to worry. That I’m doing fine. Fine for now, at least. Can’t keep going like this forever, obviously.

  “Why the frown?” Sarah asked him once they met downstairs because he was too much of an idiot to stop worrying about stuff before other people could see it affecting his face.

  “It’s nothing… really. I just… tried cultivating before coming down and I couldn’t last through it for more than like five minutes.”

  “So? Are you annoyed about that? Really?”

  “Not annoyed. Well, OK, yes, annoyed, a little bit. But just generally worried. Nothing for you to worry about, though, I assure you.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” She pursed her lips and gestured him to lead the way. “And how are the muscles? All the pain that should’ve been there yesterday, still not there?”

  Sam half-chuckled. “You know what I meant by that.”

  “I do. So I’m asking you whether you’re still feeling the same way? Or whether some of that ‘solved’ pain came back?”

  “Nothing of the sort. In fact, I’m not even feeling the effects of yesterday’s workout.”

  Sarah smiled and clapped him on the shoulder blade. “Good. Just remember to tell me if you’re feeling… worse than you should be after a workout.”

  “I will. But I doubt there’ll be any need for that. I’m just going back to the same schedule from the last couple of weeks. Only I’m all healed up and stronger. No reason for me to react any worse than I did before, and plenty of reason to react better.”

  “I can think of one reason to react worse.”

  “Really? Are you going to say it out loud?”

  “Just keep me updated…”

  Sam gave her a thumbs up and a fake smile.

  He surprised himself by putting on a podcast instead of the usual playlist once he started the workout proper. That meant, however, that he had to change his sets as to avoid exercising in the same area that Felix and Yvessa were. They kept quizzing each other in preparation for their first exam of the day and Sam didn’t want their dialogue to distract him from the much funnier conversation originally recorded more than a hundred years ago.

  He didn’t know whether it was the podcast, the different type of exercise or maybe just an unconscious change in his mood (it was definitely the podcast) but today was much easier to stomach than yesterday. The pain seemed more bearable, the boredom more palpable, the gulf between his current shape and the shape of everyone around him a tiny bit less impossible to bridge. He was also reminded of why he put so much stock in listening to podcasts while working out. Functionally, they were a treat. A reward for doing something that he otherwise might not have done. What that meant for their place in his life going forward though—what with him having to work out, no matter his desire on the matter—he wasn’t sure.

  Also, they were going to run out eventually. Like really run out. And he was pretty much certain that he was going to have some sort of a mental breakdown on the day that’ll happen. But don’t think about that right now, Sam. You don’t need to worry about that anytime soon. You still have plenty of episodes left. Plenty of time. Especially if you go back and start listening from the beginning. And, if you start incorporating some other podcasts as well, you can stretch what you have for a really long while.

  Yep. Just don’t think about that and you don’t need to worry. Don’t think about how the last remnants of everything you’ve ever known and loved are slowly fading away. Dripping like the morphine in an IV into the abyss that is my need to feel connected to the world I’ve left behind. Each drop a world onto its own. Each drop irreplaceable. Fuck. Why did I have to go with that stupid metaphor? Now I feel like shit twice over. I shouldn’t be allowed to wax poetic.

  With a grunt, he got up from his last stretch, nodded to Felix and Yvessa, who just sat down next to him, still in the middle of a heated discussion, and went to take a shower. It wasn’t going to be a pleasant one, unfortunately, what with him all alone and newly arrived at this depressing revelation. So he decided not to tarry too long under the water and ended up getting fully dressed long before Felix and Yvessa finished their workout.

  Once outside, he had two avenues of action: He could put his headphones back on and probably finish the episode by the time everyone else was ready to go. Or he could not do that. Which meant that he’d have to find something else to do. Something that he didn’t want to do. Because, currently, the only thing that he wanted to do, more than anything else in the world, was roll back the time to half an hour ago when he was still exercising and had a reason to listen to four people making asses of themselves.

  But that wasn’t going to happen, was it? Nope. He shook his head as he sat down with a tired sigh. He needed to ration his entertainment. Ration like he was Britain, and the year was 1940. Every episode, a convoy, and every unnecessary second of it heard, a torpedo by the wolfpack. But who was the Empire in that scenario? Who played the part of the new world? For which former rival would he descend down to hell and strike a devil’s bargain?

  “Fuck’s sake, Sam,” he groaned and rubbed his face. “Stop thinking in metaphors.” He leaned back, trying to clear his mind by watching the scenery. What a sad picture he must’ve made: eyes all tired, face downcast, body limp and already starting to sweat. Luckily, there weren’t many people passing him by and none of them seemed to pay him any attention. Not that he cared if they did or what they thought. Not that he should care, at least. He was mostly confident that at this stage of his life, with his current mental state, he didn’t actually give any fucks what a stranger thought of him. But he knew better than to claim that he was completely sure of that, though. He wasn’t a stranger to his own anxiety after all.

  Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes before slowly releasing it. With nothing else to do—nothing else he currently wanted to do—he went back to his abandoned practice from the morning. With senses stretched outwards, the sensation of magic filling up his mind, he tried focusing only on his seeking and excavating. Apparently, it went well enough because before he knew it, Felix and Yvessa were taking a sit next to him.

  “Don’t mind us,” Felix said as Sam opened his eyes.

  “I already did,” Sam said. “I still can’t handle outside distraction anywhere as close to how I’ll need to.”

  “Eh. You’ll get there. It just takes time and practice. Trust me, it’s probably the one thing that anyone can be good at, gathering-wise, if given enough time.”

  “How much time, is the question.”

  “More than two months, is definitely the answer,” Yvessa said.

  Sam raised his hands in acquiescence. “Fair. I’m mostly just worrying for the sake of it. I know very well that this kind of focus can only be earned in due time.”

  “Mostly?”

  “Well I am still me. I can’t help over worrying about anything that my mind latches on to.”

  “You should try getting drunk more,” Felix said. “Or doing drugs. Now that you can get anything out of either.”

  “That’s certainly an option.”

  “You should at least try. There’s an end-of-trimester party on Friday. Want to come?”

  “Seriously? Celebrating the end of a trimester? It’s not even a semester. It’s just a third. Are you going?” he asked Yvessa.

  She nodded forlornly. “Unfortunately. I promised him that I will. Even if I wasn’t invited.”

  “It’s an open invitation,” Felix said. “Anyone that wants to come can. So?” He turned back to Sam.

  “No.”

  “Fine. But that means that you’ll be getting drunk the day after. Surrounded by furry animals. Is that what you prefer?”

  “Why is me getting drunk this weekend a forgone conclusion?”

  “Just have a couple of drinks. Please? For me?”

  Sam sighed. “I’ll see on Saturday. But I’m not going to no party.”

  “That’s fair. I figured you weren’t going to anyway. Looks like it’d just be the two of us then.” He smiled at Yvessa. “To watch over each other, for fools and for us behaving like fools.”

  “Just remember that you promised that we won’t have to stay late.”

  “We won’t. Promise. Hopefully that’ll be because I’ll have found someone else to go home with that night.” He loudly whispered to Sam.

  “Oh yeah?” Sam chuckled. “You got your eyes on anyone? Some other striking cadet?”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Heavens no. Well… probably not. Never say never. But we’re going to a club. And there’ll be other people there. So… opportunities abound.”

  “Even if I were the type of person to consider going there, why would I ever want to go to a club that lets nineteen-year-olds hold an event?”

  “Again with the ageism? It doesn’t become you, you know? Especially with you being only three years older than us. But fear not. I understand your concern. Revulsion perhaps?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “Revulsion it is. And I agree. Based on my extensive research, it is a certain class of alcohol serving place that would let people under twenty dominate it. But this is not such a place. For we military folks are more grown-up, respectable, than most people our age. We have toiled harder, suffered greater, so we have skipped over the many trapping of our civilian fellows.”

  “No you haven’t.”

  “Fine, whatever. But we get treated as though we were. Look, you’re not coming anyway, right? So just leave the criticism on the wayside.”

  Sam shrugged. “I honestly don’t care. Nor do I know much about clubs—or any alcohol serving place—either way. I was just speaking from my limited understanding. Just make sure that you don’t go home with anyone with too big of an age gap, alright?”

  “And what’s too big of an age gap?”

  “A question for another time,” Sam said as he got up at the sight of the approaching Sarah. Once they were on their way to the mess hall, he gently squeezed Yvessa’s shoulder and whispered, “Good luck.” She put up a brave front and gave him a nod in return.

  “So I’m guessing that Sam also turned you down?” Sarah asked Felix, halfway through the meal.

  “Also?” Sam tilted his head. “You’re just inviting everyone you know?”

  “You’re two of my closest friends,” Felix said. “Why wouldn’t I invite you? Just because I know you’re too boorish to actually come? That’s no reason.”

  “Seems like a good reason to me…”

  “So you’ll be coming with me instead, Sam,” Sarah declared.

  “I will? Where?”

  “I’m having dinner with Maurice. Celebrating the end of the trimester. Before you try to say no, remember that we won’t be eating with him on Thursday. So you have to say yes because of that.”

  “Wow, great reasoning. I’m convinced. And here I thought you might need to take a course of rhetoric on top of the many others you’re taking.”

  “Sam.”

  “I’m joking. Of course I’ll go. Dinner is dinner. I don’t mind who I’m eating it with—It’s not going to be late, right?”

  “Just an hour later than when we usually eat.”

  “That’s alright then, I don’t mind. Even if the reason is as dumb as celebrating the end of a trimester.”

  “What’s so dumb about that?” Felix asked, swishing his glass around imperiously. “Besides the fantastic reasoning you’ve already presented to us before.”

  “Look, I’m not even sure that I celebrated the end of my degree in any meaningful way. Let alone the end of a single year. And let alone the end of a single semester. And a trimester is lesser than any of those.”

  “I hate to say this, as I mostly agree with you,” Yvessa said, “but you not celebrating something is not a good justification for other people not celebrating that event.”

  “Well said.” Felix nodded.

  Sam waved them off. “I’ll write a well-argued paper, deductive logic and everything, by the time the next trimester ends. I’ll present it to you then and we can all go not celebrating in peace.”

  “But that wouldn’t be the end of the trimester. It’ll be the end of the year…”

  “Hm…” Sam grunted. Felix was right, and arguing that would be a losing battle, just like not dining with Sarah and Maurice this Friday, which was why he forfeited straight away. Not that he had a trouble with doing the latter. Two weeks ago, he might’ve had. Just a little problem which would’ve easily been solved by shuffling some of his study or training time around. But as he was now… what training or study time?

  Once Felix and Yvessa left, Sarah gave Sam the full details of their dinner plans. Which was, obviously, when she offered him the opportunity to change them, or rescind his acceptance of her invitation. Sam refused. To both. He didn’t have anything better to do and he sure as hell didn’t have any reason to change Maurice’s and Sarah’s customs. And if the custom was for Maurice and Sarah to go to a restaurant, then that was what’s going to happen and Sam should feel honored that he gets to partake in it. He didn’t feel honored; he felt tired and an undeserving fake, but he should’ve been.

  It was after lunch, the first one in more than a week that he ate alone, when he finally had to ask Dan the question that has been troubling him for that entire week. “So how long do you think we’ll keep going like this?”

  “I’m assuming you’re not talking about Skin Reinforcement,” Dan said with a raised eyebrow while withdrawing his hand from Sam’s shoulder, having just finished refilling his core. “Because if you do, then the answer’s simple. For the rest of your life. It’s an important tracing.”

  “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  “Hm hm. You’re talking about our new schedule, then?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about it?”

  Sam sighed. “We’re just practicing. Nothing new. Now, I know why you’re—we’re doing this. It makes sense, I understand it. But it’s not optimal and both of us know that as well. Otherwise you would’ve planned your schedule this way two months ago. At some point, we’re going to have to go back to some form of that schedule. I want to know when that is.”

  “I really don’t know. I don’t have much experience tutoring a person going through what you’re going through. So I’m waiting for other peoples’ opinion. Yours most of all. But also Maurice, and your therapist through him. Farris. Even your friends to a lesser degree. But mostly you. So when you’ll tell me that you’re ready to go back to the old schedule, we’ll go back.”

  “I didn’t mean we need to go back to the old schedule. Not fully, at least. But we can move on from just practicing stuff that I already know, don’t you think? Even if I’m not back to ‘normal’ yet. Even if I… can’t study on my own like I used to, there’s plenty of stuff that we can study together that doesn’t require me, per your old schedule, to go back to my old schedule.”

  “Not as many as you might think, but true enough, I suppose… Alright, I’ll tell you what: next week.”

  “Next week?”

  Dan nodded. “Next week we’ll start incorporating some of the old schedule back. After Sunday and Monday, of course. But that will also require a sacrifice on your part. I want you to take regular breaks from our sessions. Like you planned to do today.”

  “I see…”

  “It’s simple, really. To make sure you can study to the best of your abilities, we just need to make sure that you won’t have to study as much as you usually do. I think a break every second day will suffice, unless you decide you want more. Since today’s already short, I don’t see a reason not the start the change this week. But we’ll rotate between the days, so next week it’ll be Sunday that’s shorter.”

  “Did you already plan this beforehand?” Sam asked.

  “No. But I told you that you were going to need some rest in order to return to your full form, and before we can go back to our old schedule. And since you’re taking a break today of your own volition, I see that as confirmation that you’ve decided that you’re able to get something out of resting. So, since you have something else you’d rather be doing, I don’t see anything wrong with finally allowing you more time to do those things instead of study.”

  “But today doesn’t count. I’m only doing that to help Felix.”

  “Like I said, Sam, I also talk to your friends. If you just wanted to help Felix, you could’ve stayed here until he finished his exam instead of finishing early.”

  Sam released a long sigh. “That’s… fine, I don’t quite agree with your point, but I’m not going to argue with your logic because it makes more sense than mine. It’s forced rest for me, then. Hopefully, you are right and there are actually some things that I’ll want to, and be able to use all this free time for.”

  “I understand your concern. And if you want, I can keep you company today. I’ll even choose the video game.”

  “You don’t play video games.”

  “Everybody plays video games, Sam. Just like everyone watches TV and everyone has a phone.”

  “What about reading books?”

  Dan smiled. “The percentage of people alive who are reading book is probably the biggest it has ever been in history. So give us that, at least.”

  “I’m not judging either way. Just like I’m not buying you playing video games.”

  “Then I’ll guess I’ll just have to kick your ass a couple dozen of times and show you. Shall we proceed?”

  Sam relented and went back to closing his eyes, focusing on the skin of his forearm. Two hours later, and for this first time since they started, his session with Dan ended earlier than it should’ve. With him still having failed to trace Prior Skin Reinforcement, of course. Then Dan proved him wrong twice over by showing that not only did he have more than passing knowledge of video games, but that he could also handily beat Sam’s ass. However, for this failure, Sam could’ve blamed a dozen different things that didn’t stem from him, like Dan already knowing the game or having much better reflexes than Sam.

  Dan left once Felix messaged Sam that he was on his way, so, thankfully, Sam didn’t have a lot of free time that he had to make use of. And once Felix arrived, they quickly settled down for the study session. Sam just read from the summary that Felix handed him, the best one available according to Felix, while Felix read from a dozen different chapters in the textbook and a dozen more different past exams.

  “Is it just me, or is this all actually bullshit?” Felix asked.

  “It’s just you.”

  “Hear me out, alright? So deontology and utilitarianism, they’re like the two big boys, right?”

  “Deontology and consequentialism, but go ahead. And don’t forget about virtue ethics.”

  “I’m not. They’re just as bullshit. But focusing on just those two, OK? Kant and Mill. They’re pretty much just saying the same thing, no?”

  “No.”

  “But they are! Kant says that we should only do stuff that we want to make into universal laws. Meaning laws which are applicable to everybody. Which means that whatever law we want to make, must also be the cause of the most good for everybody. Ergo utilitarianism.”

  “That’s a wrong way to read Kant and the first categorical imperative. You are correct though, in that there is an argument that all Kant did was disguise utilitarianism. Which Mill raised and is in your textbook. So read on.”

  A couple of minutes later. “OK, so I was right. Kant is basically just a utilitarian. Mill says so.”

  “Mill is an ethical philosopher. He says a lot of stupid shit.”

  “But they didn’t refute that argument in the book.”

  “No, they just presented it. If they spent time refuting every argument they presented, the textbook would be ten times longer. It’s up to you to decide whether you find Mill’s reasoning sound.”

  “OK, so in this test, they asked us about that. And according to the example answer, Mill was right.”

  “I’m willing to bet that an answer that says ‘Mill was wrong’ would’ve also gotten full marks if it was logically coherent and based on an accurate depiction of the two’s theories.”

  “So you would argue that Mill was wrong?”

  “Of course I would. I’m a Kantian aren’t I?”

  “Are you? Every time you say that, you also make a comment making fun of Kant.”

  “Not every time.” Sam stopped to ponder before shaking his head. “Not every time. Look, I’ll let you in on a little secret about ethics, hell, philosophy in general. You don’t get famous by just agreeing with what someone else wrote. Even the big three that brought Aristotle to the Abrahamic masses still had their own religious and philosophical spin on the dude. There’s a reason why Aristotle is always taught in contrast to Plato as though the two were at the opposite sides of the spectrum, despite the fact they agreed on a lot of things. There’s a reason why you put ‘neo’ before every modern theory and thinker that harkens back to a previous one. It’s all about giving yourself a reason to write what you’re writing and putting your name to.

  “So in some respects I’m a Kantian, because I agree with Kant. But I’m not really a Kantian because I also disagree with Kant a lot more than a Kantian ought to. But instead of calling myself a Samsian, and giving anyone the wrong idea that I am somehow a subjectivist, I call myself a Kantian because I like the dude. Then again, I don’t call myself a Kantian all that much, and usually I add an addendum like you said. Because I have my own opinion about almost everything I read and know. An opinion which makes me think that Mill was wrong and Kant wasn’t actually preaching utilitarianism. And because it’s an opinion about other people’s opinion, unlike the objective moral truth, it can’t be wrong as long as it’s formulated correctly.”

  “And what decides whether your opinion is formulated correctly?” Felix asked.

  “That, is not ethics. So I don’t need to answer.”

  “I hate philosophy.”

  “Me too. But sometimes when the philosopher isn’t such an awful writer, when the theory isn’t filled with verbose language, and every paragraph tinted with the conceit of self-assurance, then I very much enjoy philosophy if the topic strikes my interest. And some times, when the topic is very dear to your heart, you make an effort and push through all of that shit to the other side, hopefully having gained some knowledge of the subject.”

  “None of what you said is helping me hate philosophy any less.”

  “Look, Felix, just read the secondary sources. That’s really all there is to it. It’s been two hundred years of modern philosophy at this point. Every question about Kant and Mill, and even Hegel, has already been asked and answered in simpler and more concise language.”

  “I’ve never read a primary source. Only this textbook and the summaries. And I still hate philosophy.”

  “Well I’m the wrong person to complain about that too, because I literally have no idea how someone couldn’t want to study ethics.”

  “Really? No idea?”

  “In their whole wide life? With plenty of time and resources available to them? None.”

  “Huh. Maybe you really are the wrong guy to complain to about that. Guess I gotta look for some else to teach me to be virtuous then.”

  “But…”

  “But it doesn’t matter if would find them because I’m already too old to be influenced into a virtuous life.”

  “Very good.”

  “You agree with me that part’s bullshit, though, right?”

  “Yep. Very much so.”