Dear Nathan-

  I am writing to ask that you please trust me and do as I ask. I know we have already had several false starts to this conversation, but I am hoping that by writing this down we can finally have an understanding. I know that much of what I am going to ask of you seems redundant, counterproductive or counterintuitive. I am asking you to investigate sources I have already ruled out to get answers I already have. This is not as nonsensical as it seems, and is in fact of paramount importance. Please just trust me without The process of these investigations is just as important as the outcome. The knowledge you stand to gain is important but so is the steps you would need to take to get those answers. These investigations, which we could call "quests", can In a very literal and material way, following these instructions I give you will make you stronger, smarter, and more capable. And you will need all of that to get through the challenges ahead. With my help, we are going to save the world and the kingdom. Please don't ask me how the This is something that needs to be done in a specific order and fashion. If I explain in advance what will happen, you will not be able to resist the urge to help out in advance. I know, I understand, I've made those mistakes myself and had to restore from a previous save in a fashion I could not explain in other versions of this timeline and lost opportunities for it. None of this may be abbreviated with a shortcut. That is not how the future works That is not how prophecy works And you'll just have to trust me The purpose of my foresight is not to make this process simple, but to show us when and where to direct our efforts. I cannot give meaningful warnings to prevent disaster. If I do, the outcome is worse, no matter how counterintuitive that may seem. For example if I warn the authorities about a certain event, they will respond with crackdowns that kill thousands For example if I tell our parents about the invas For example reporting the Uncin's actions in Anquarry will lead to the information being leaked to their spies and Divinity has given me visions that show me the right way to respond to disaster, but not how to avert it safely. But this is not about me. If you follow my instructions to the letter, you will skip years of training and gain great skill and capability. I am at least 90% 50% 99% 75% 95% certain that it works that way. And even more importantly, I need you to flirt with certain girls in a specific order

  I put my head down on my desk. This is actually impossible. I thought I was having trouble when I explain myself to him in person. I thought this was hard when I had to look him in the eye and ask him to trust me implicitly over the most bizarre-sounding statements. No, committing this to paper is so much worse. Even a first draft is incredibly awful.

  Doesn't it sound easy? Just explain it to him. He's smart, right, he'll understand. Okay, Nathan, please just ignore every time that I've been caught blindsided or that one of my predictions did not pan out for whatever reason. Please ignore the uncertainty on my face while I'm explaining this because I am still not certain how much of this is still a game. But when I ask you to run these dangerous, difficult and tedious missions exactly how I tell you, please jump straight to it without trying to find the easy way out.

  I like to think I'm sensible. I used to watch TV shows and roll my eyes and say "God, this would be so easy if they'd just talk to each other." I know! I do! But the things I need to explain are so weird, and so unlikely... and in some cases so stupid, that it's just impossible to get started.

  And it's not like the stakes are "if sitcom husband would just hold a normal conversation with sitcom wife, then this backyard barbecue wouldn't have been ruined". No, if I leak the wrong prediction to the wrong people, this shit escalates straight to ethnic cleansings. If I butterfly-effect destabilize the wrong institutions, monsters overwhelm the Protectorates and I set civilization back thousands of years.

  This game has Bad Ending Minus Minus outcomes. And they're reserved for cheaters.

  "Just explain it to him," I muttered to myself, with my forehead resting on the desk. "Just like that. Sure."

  It sounds so easy. As long as I don't have to explain any details. As long as I don't have to answer any questions. As long as I get to control the narrative. But as soon as I step out of those confines... I glared at the letter on my desk. I crumpled it. And tried again, for the third time.

  Elica's pillow hit me in the shoulder. "It is past time to be in bed! Now turn out that candle. And don't try writing any more with your eerie sleepwalking trick, either!"

  We were at breakfast, and Vancy was glaring at Elica as we walked to the table. "You owe Natalie an apology!" she scolded the lady earl. I wanted to glance her way for a reaction but I also didn't want to take my eyes off my tray- it was stacked rather more precariously than usual. There were little cups of thinly-sliced ham that were molded in muffin tins and baked into shape, then eggs were poached inside the shaped ham cups. That plus some carrot-cake muffins, mashed avocado and a tall glass of milk with cocoa and nutmeg sprinkled on top.

  It all looked delicious but I did not want to take a chance of it going on the floor. So, I could not see much of the expressions and reactions from these two.

  Elica sure sounded like she was reacting in surprise. "Your pardon? An apology? Whatever for?"

  Only Vancy would expect Elica to actually apologize for anything, but you really have to admire her spirit. She turned around the broadsheet in front of her and jabbed a finger at a story on the second page. "Two girls have been missing ever since they went to the Cerulean Circus! They arrived safely, but never left! Natalie and her predictions saved your life!"

  "Not to discredit your support, Vancy, but that was not really a prophecy," I said. "It's a sleazy music festival held at a members-only sex-club. Avoiding that is just a good idea every time." And twice a year this place would open its doors to anyone that wanted in and could pass the 'dress code' with the doorman. There could be a sign for Sex Traffickers R Us on the front door.

  I overlaid my status screen and flicked through my quest logs. There was nothing relevant. I'd really been expecting some [ Quest Available: Cerulean Circus ] but there was nothing. And that was bothering me.

  Playing Glitter, everything seemed so integrated. A five-act game with a couple dozen hours of gameplay, and hundreds of sessions worth of replayability... it seemed like every detail everywhere was relevant. The tinsmith that has one line of fixed dialogue in passing during one playthrough would be a major source of specialized information in another playthrough. I was constantly running across familiar faces, snippets of another route, references to things that were happening out of frame. Playing the game at my desk, it felt like every person, or place, or piece of news all tied in to the story.

  But now it's just not like that. Now the guy painting his front door blue is doing his own thing for his own reasons and I will never know what they are because I don't have time to stop and ask. I know about a sleazy sex-trafficking ring and even though I do want to drop by and tear it down to the ground with my hands, if I do that it's going to be just flavor text because nothing that happens there is relevant to any of the quests I have access to right now.

  And also, none of the tools in my toolbox are any good for investigation. I can blow stuff up real good, but that won't find those girls. I'm not good at investigations, it's a whole different build. Normally that doesn't matter because I've played this game a whole bunch of times and I remember stuff. But Cerulean Circus is kind of a blind spot for me. And I am hating that.

  In earlier days it felt like I could not trip over a curb without it impacting the future. But something like this.. it's not part of the game. But it is part of the world. It is pertinent to the people and their futures and their loved ones. It is relevant to their hope and pain.

  I can't tell myself this doesn't matter. I don't have that nihilism in me. I cannot clap my hands, gee whiz I'm inside of a video game I guess nothing matters, and start murderhoboing around because these are NPCs and their pain doesn't matter.

  Pain always matters.

  "Natalie's got her murder-face again," Larianne pointed out. Her voice startled me out of my meditations.

  "Of course she does," Elica sighed with a hugely put-upon drama.

  I looked around. "What? No! That was not a murder face. I was just.... deep in thought."

  "Were you thinking deeply about whether or not to kill people?" Elica asked, pouring syrup over her stack.

  Damn those looked good. The faculty lounge gets much better pancakes than the student center. "In point of fact I was but not in the way you're suggesting. If anything it was more of an anti-murder face."

  Elica and Larianne both looked unconvinced in an amused sort of way. I glanced at Vancy as the tiebreaker. She was reading the newspaper with Rinnie and ignoring us, so I guess I have to let this be a tie.

  "So," I said, too casually and too nonchalantly, "What is the plan for this weekend? You all want another day trip?"

  "She changes the subject," Larianne said, darting a dark glance towards Elica.

  "She does, but I actually do want to discuss this," Elica replied. Those two are getting weirder. "Well, I would presume we either go to visit Larianne's county seat, or back to my home city, unless Natalie feels like being a little less cryptic and mysterious?"

  I cringed into my seat a little. "I'd rather evade my personal life for a little longer. Unresolved stuff."

  "Cryptic and mysterious it is," Elica said with a dismissive toss of her head. "I think that tonight's card game should set the stakes. Whoever wins the most chips through the night gets to decide which home we visit on the weekend."

  Vancy glanced up from the page, watching through her eyelashes. "To make it fair, a win for either Natalie or me counts as a win for Larianne."

  "Done."

  I stared across the dining hall. Nathan and Lachel laughing together. I couldn't see Skeici from here, but I had little doubt she had a line of sight for Nathan as well. I looked back at my friends. "Whatever it is, make it a good one, all right? I have had really great weekends last two out of three, and I have found already that I really like that, and I really would like to come to depend on that. This past weekend was actually pretty trying, and I feel the difference acutely."

  Elica glanced across. "Prepare the next broadsheet, Natalie has discovered that fun is good."

  I groaned. "Not like- I know that. But I had underestimated how much I need that. My friends joke about how often I go on murder sprees. My teachers are referring me to therapists. My sport nickname is "Killer". I honestly cannot understand my own brother at all anymore. Casual acquaintances worry about how I will react to bad news, close acquaintances try not to meet me anywhere alone. I don't feel like I'm that close to the edge, or that I indulge in violence that often, but I suspect that my barometer for what is normal may be far off-bubble from everyone else's. I may not be a good judge of how much relaxation I need."

  Rinnie smirked. "Prepare the next broadsheet, indeed."

  I groaned. "Even Rinnie speaks up to burn me down! Is this my life now?!" I wailed in distress, but I reluctantly pushed a fist-bump across to Rinnie, and she returned it.

  Elica had lost interest in shit-talking me, however. She was looking all around like a nervous meerkat. "Where is Yheta? He's normally in by now." Ah, one of the only ways to distract her from verbally tearing someone down. She was half-standing, hovering herself over her seat, to try to see over the heads of the people at nearby tables. She sat back down and looked around at us.

  "I hadn't seen him all weekend," I said, raising an eyebrow.

  A full round of shrugs, headshakes and mumbled denials from around the table. "I'm gonna ask around a little," I said.

  I stood, and went for a brief tour. When I walked, there were still eyes on me. The excitement and hero-worship of last week had faded a little, but I was still finding more smiles than I expected. I returned them as best I could, it felt awkward and unearned. I was trying to save my own life! If I hadn't been in danger-

  I felt like I could not take their gratitude because it was selfish. But, if the roof had collapsed and I wasn't under it, I still would have tried. I might not have sacrificed myself by turning into a tree, but something. And, well, there had been ways for me to save myself and leave the rest to die. I could have channeled more lightning to my body- I was already channeling it to my thoughts- and I could have just run a dozen steps forward to be out of danger, leaving the others to die in my stead.

  And publicly, nobody would have spoken against me for saving myself.

  So.. maybe this respect from the students is all right? Maybe it's a benefit that I could allow myself to enjoy?

  I walked right to a particular table and unfortunately I was interrupting a lively discussion there, people gesturing pointedly and laughing. One of the debaters caught sight of me in the peripheral vision, since as usual I'm dressed to get attention. He turned, and his expression caught attention and all the rest of them turned to stare at me, like iron filings carrying a magnetic charge to draw each other in. I gave most of them polite smiles but gravitated to the one I actually knew well enough to approach.

  "Good morning," I said, ducking my head, smiling. "Sorry to interrupt, I'll be away in a moment. Miss Coltorn, one of my friends was wondering where Yheta was, and you were the only person I knew that might have some insight."

  "N- Lady Natalie," Filly said, looking like she was going to stand up or try to curtsy- I headed that off quick with a small gesture and a smile, the quick, tacit "at-ease" movements that you get used to if you're a ranked heir who doesn't actually want people to leap to their feet everywhere you go. She stayed seated, and smoothed her hands over her lap. "Ah, Yhe- hrm- Mister Snairlin has not spoken to me today, either, but I can be certain to send him towards you if I do see him!"

  I am pretty damn certain that he'd come seek us out before she'd see him, but I don't need to say that to her face in front of her friends here. I don't recognize any of them and none of them have any tags. Pretty sure none of them have been part of any story or plotlines. But they look nice. Just, nice people.

  None of them in top-of-the-line fashions, none of them wearing clothes that cost more than the average citizen makes in a month. They were all smiling when I walked up, and they seemed to enjoy each other's company. Not "I collect peers of my social strata so I'm not alone". Not "find people that tolerate me". Not "stay in one place and hope people don't throw me out". And not whatever Vancy's doing.

  I don't think any of them were higher-stationed that Filly, who was a count's heir and only technically a dame, baroness by courtesy. In some duchies she would be offered the title of viscount. But that was almost certainly the highest title at this table. Probably none of them were in the running as smartest of their class, or were in the running as "most valuable player" to their sport. Probably none of them had a stack of invitations to high-class society parties.

  They just seemed to be having fun, and they all looked happier than I've felt in a long time.

  For a second I felt a pang, a little stab of why can't I have this. But it was countered fast- it was a stupid question. I already know why I can't have this life and these friends. It's a settled issue, I don't have any place questioning this. My place is to do what I've been doing so they can have this life.

  When I walked up I saw their fun, freewheeling rapport, and in the few seconds that Filly and I were chatting their faces were a range of surprise, interest, awe, inspiration and mirth. They had different reactions, but mostly positive. A stranger but one that was known to most of them. And they liked me well enough.

  I felt my reserves of determination refilled.

  "Thank you, Miss Coltorn. No urgency, though. Have a nice morning, all of you," and I turned and walked away.

  Is it weird that this felt therapeutic to me? The stress levels dropping, the burnout postponed. I want to see people happy with simple things. I want to save a happy world. Seeing hope and happiness makes me convinced that this is all worth it. Not for me, but for someone or everyone else.

  Yheta was leaning on the table between Elica and Rinnie, of course, when I walked back. It's like a Murphy's law kinda thing- they don't come to you until you leave to find them. A variation of the well-known maxims about finding things in the last place you look. I'm a big believer in Murphy's Law.

  "Oh sorry guys I just couldn't find Yheta anywhere, I guess he skipped school entirely today we'll probably never find him," I said breezily as I sat down. "Hi Yheta. Anyway, what were you all talking about?"

  Yheta threw me a salute as I grabbed up my fork again. "Well, at Lady Tarcelle's insistence, we've discussed the Cerulean Circus. Apparently it has a more sinister and sordid reputation than I knew of already. You apparently already knew it well, from what the ladies have been telling me. I knew it by the word of mouth, but not the nastier underbelly." He winced. "Lady Vancy has staked an interest in this, and we are discussing from there."

  Vancy pouted. "I just really feel like we should do something! This is bad news, and I think we could really help!"

  Yheta was pleading with his eyes. Am I actually socially adept, or is it the five levels of Awareness skills I've taken? Or is it my relative experience with his background? Maybe a combination of factors. But he really wanted my help with this.

  "Vancy," I said gingerly, and moved my hand over to hers. "We cannot do much here. If something like this is being reported in the newspapers within the same city as the central offices of the Royal Cavalry Guard, then you have to know that whoever is behind this is very good at keeping their secrets and not being caught. Also, aside from Yheta we are all very much in the victim profile- more likely to be abducted ourselves than we are to save anyone else."

  I hated seeing how disappointed she was. "But you're always- you have magic, and visions, and money, and connections, and -"

  "My magic is great at fighting people if I know the right people to fight," I said, just a little bitterly. "And my visions often fill in the gaps there. But none of my extraordinary knowledge pertains to this. I'd be starting from scratch like anyone else. And I don't want to piss off the kind of people that make girls like me disappear. A blackjack to the back of the head really hurts."

  For one thing: I am not the superhero protector of Hearstcliff. For another thing, Yheta is very obviously doing business with the people who run the Cerulean Circus, and he doesn't want us to get involved. Maybe he's worried for us. Maybe he's worried for his business associations. But also, he doesn't want to explain any of this in front of Vancy.

  It sucks, straddling the line between really nefarious shit like organized crime, political violence, and underhanded business practices but also hanging out with sweet innocent cinnamon rolls like Vancy Tarcelle. Maybe Lewot Snairlin, godfather of that organization, is a heartless and deceitful enough man to live like that. Or maybe he just lives his entire life surrounded entirely by people who are shady enough that he doesn't need to hide what kind of toxic toad he really is.

  But for certain, Yheta is going to need to either harden up a lot more, or stop indulging clear-eyed goody-goodies like Vancy.

  I'll spend some time later examining what it means to me that Yheta, the Mafioso, looks to me for help when he can't think of a good way to explain his position to Vancy. Maybe the difference is that while I might suspect that his 'business associates' are the kind of 'business associates' that Quarl Billiams talks about, I'm not certain of it, so if I talk about it with Vancy I'm not lying to her...

  I don't think that technicalities like that are really good enough. That doesn't seem like the kind of thing that makes the difference. Maybe I'm getting better at lying. Maybe it's just very easy to deceive Vancy. Or maybe deep down I just really hope that I've misunderstood and I'm hoping that Yheta's not involved in the kind of business that abducts teen-aged girls out of sex clubs.

  Or maybe I need to rigorously interrogate what Yheta meant with that "you apparently know it well". There's non-zero chance that Yheta truly believes that I'm deeper into criminal underworlds than he is.

  I was having such a nice breakfast.

  Lady Elica was the first one to break this awkward moment. "You should know that every other table in this place is discussing the class rankings. They'll be published at noon, you are aware? Time to watch all the scholarship students sweat it out and see if they'll be kicked out tonight!" Of course this is what brings a smile to her blackened little heart. But I have been looking forward to the posting of the rankings. And god knows we really need a change of topic at this breakfast table.