AN: Currently 14 Advanced Chapters on my Patreon
https://www.patreon.com/cw/Crimson_Reapr
Thank you to "jm" for being the first to join the ranks of my Patreon🫡
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A few hours had passed since the Anahrin had made the printer, and by now, Mark had come to sit in what had become his usual cross-legged position on the dais, his hands gripping his knees, his breathing slow but steady. For the first time since he had woken up dazed and confused, his thoughts felt… clearer, sharper, and more aligned than ever. It was as if accepting the reality of having reincarnated at some point in time, rather than transmigrating, had allowed for cold clarity to spread through his mind. He realized that there was only one road left to walk, whether he wanted to or not.
His eyes were drawn toward the chamber's doorway, where Anahrin's tall frame slowly and gracefully approached. But rather than entering the chamber, the ancient Strathari just stood there, without making a single sound, opting to watch over Mark's actions, as if giving him the dignity of making his own decisions, even after he had already taken the helm by making life-altering decisions for Mark.
They made eye contact for a few seconds before Mark finally stood up from the dais. "That offer you gave me a few days ago, the one to become your apprentice, does it still stand? I don't... I guess I don't really have much of a choice, you know... I mean, I can try to find my way off this rock myself, but I just don't know how to and will probably end up dying trying. Even if I don't die trying, how in the hell am I going to survive out there in that hellish landscape? Hell, I don't even know the limits of my own body, and frankly, if your words hold any truth to them, then you're the only one who can teach me anything I need to learn to find a way out."
Anahrin's head inclined ever so slightly, the faintest bow of acknowledgement towards Mark's words.
Mark's rigid and tense body loosened up as his shoulders dropped and he bowed his head slightly. The words of someone who had been lost and forced to put away their pride were replaced by the words of someone who truly yearned to learn. "So, shit, I'm not too good at this, I'll just give it to you straight. Teach me your ways, or something. Since I'm stuck with this-" he said while gesturing at himself, at his altered body and burning mind, "then I need to know what to do with it. I'll learn whatever you can give me. Just… don't expect me to call you 'Master' or anything, that just kind of feels weird."
For the first time since they had met, a laugh escaped Anahrin's lips. It was not loud, nor did it have a mocking demeanor, but it was filled with fond amusement. "I require no titles to share what I know. Knowledge is burden enough. If you are willing to take on the burden of knowledge, then you are already my student."
Mark nodded once, his lips pressed into a thin line. A strange mixture of dread and relief settled in his chest. He had taken the first step toward advancing forward and hopefully finding a way off the planet by the time the ancient being before him died.
A silence stretched between them before Mark frowned, his brow furrowed. "There's something else I don't get. It's been, what, days since I woke up? Weeks since I had an actual meal? I should be starving, but I don't even feel hungry. Not even thirsty. Does that have something to do with the changes you did to my body? Is it like a bonus from having a new physique?"
Anahrin's long fingers folded together behind his back. "Well, as I have explained to you when you first awoke, something you obviously understand, your body is not what it once was. Not feeling things like hunger, thirst, and fatigue are just some of the so-called 'bonuses' to your body. Your metabolism has adapted to truly squeeze out all nutrients from anything you digest, and your cells have been redesigned to work with utmost efficiency, requiring little replenishment to sustain them. I'd say eating a full and scrumptious meal about once per week should be enough to maintain your body. Of course, you could eat more; it's only more fuel for your body to burn. However, nutrient consumption by your brain when digesting new or unfamiliar information can be quite high."
Mark blinked. "Once a week? You mean to tell me my stomach's on permanent vacation?" He shook his head, a disbelieving laugh slipping free from his lips. "Guess that explains why I'm not drooling over sand by now."
Anahrin's expression softened as he gazed at Mark. "While you lay unconscious and your body was being reforged, I had been feeding you with the nutrients that had been kept stored in a stasis room for inexplicable occasions like the one I had found myself in. It was no burden to me, after all, my people had advanced enough to only need sustenance about once every quarter of a standard year. By the way, you slept for two weeks in standard time."
Mark exhaled, long and low. Two weeks. Ever since the time he was woken up, he hadn't bothered to pull up the system since he knew that there was no definite time for its replacement to be integrated into him. He rubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head. "Well, at least it's good to know that I won't starve to death."
Anahrin tilted his head, faint confusion flickering across his solemn features. Mark caught it and barked a short laugh. "Well, I mean, is there any drinkable water anywhere? I know I fell into a pool of water, but God knows just how long that water's been stagnant. And I know that just because I don't need water as often, it doesn't mean that I don't need it at all."
Anahrin's confusion faded as he nodded his head. "Yes, water. The lifeline of many living beings. If that is your worry, then worry no more. Aside from the nutrient bars stored in the stasis storage, about 2000 liters of water had also been stored in a cryofrozen state."
A sigh of relief escaped Mark's lips. "Well, guess I truly have no worries. As long as I'm able to get off this rock before I run out of things my body needs, then I think I will be A-O-K."
Mark finally sat down again, leaning back against the dais. "Alright. Fine. Now that I'm your student, do we just start making ships, or are you going to slowly roast me on the fire by teaching me a bunch of things before finally getting to the good stuff?"
The faintest gleam lit Anahrin's eyes. "Worry not, we will begin your lessons tomorrow. And though I will do my best to teach you all I believe to be crucial for you to eventually rise in power, you are going to need to work on that patience of yours, since it is a virtue you are severely lacking in. For only the calm and patient mind can hold the weight of creation."
Mark muttered something about "Zen space-grandpa wisdom" under his breath, but he understood that the things he would learn from Anahrin would be crucial. If his memories weren't lying to him, then not only was the technology in the chamber he had inhabited for the past days leaps and bounds ahead of anything he had ever seen in his past life, but even in this life, mankind had yet to come to create anything that could even do a quarter of the things that dais did for him.
***
The next day came rather quickly for Mark. He finished adjusting to his memories and to the fact that his body had become something more than it once used to be. It was an eerie thing to wake up one day not sounding, looking, or being who you were your entire life, but thanks to Anahrin's suggestions of self-acceptance and meditation, Mark managed to make the headway necessary to push through and become whole once again.
He accepted his no-nonsense attitude and rage from the Mark Shepherd who was rescued by Strathmore, while at the same time accepting the dreamer attitude from the Mark Shepherd of Earth, creating a strange mix that resulted in a man who yearned to return to the stars, but not just to travel them, but to conquer them. He wanted to show just how mistaken the people who betrayed him were in their actions.
He had come to understand that the only way for him to have jumped so close to a CIV fleet's formation and then be immediately flanked from behind was if someone had fed him false information, something he already knew. He had deciphered that there would be no reason to possibly spark a whole war, no matter how many times the CIV and IUC had fought, unless monetary benefits were included.
Mark's musings were broken by Anahrin slowly entering the chamber that had essentially become his room. "Child, it is time for your lessons to start." He then turned and walked out.
Mark stood up from the dais and went to follow Anahrin. "Hey, Anahrin, would it kill you to call me by my name? It's been almost two decades since I was considered a child, at least for us humans; it's kind of awkward for a grown man to be called a child."
Anahrin's stride was unbroken as he spoke. "No, it wouldn't kill me, that would be quite irrational. Though all I speak is the truth, as in my people, you would be a child until you came of age at 150 years old, I understand your sentiment. If it is your wish, then I shall address you by your name, Mark."
Mark caught up to Anahrin, thanking him as he did so. They walked in silence for a few minutes, taking turns here and there. It took a little while before Mark noticed that they had been pretty much walking in circles. He wasn't quite sure at first, but after noticing the same wall with the same scratches and faded coating, he was starting to lose his patience. "Anahrin, what are we doing? I'm pretty sure I've seen that wall there about four times already. When are we going to get to all the teaching and learning?"
Anahrin stopped walking once Mark finished speaking. He looked down at Mark and nodded subtly, "Indeed, we've walked the same path five times now, it took you quite long to notice. Today's first lesson is the following... Patience." Anahrin bent down and touched Mark's forehead with one of his slender fingers.
Mark sighed at his response. "You've gotta be fuc-"
"Patience is a virtue you lack," Anahrin said softly in a tone that did not suggest any ill intent, but simply a true statement. "You have great potential, and you have also been chosen by a fragment of the universe's origin. However, you lack patience, Mark. Builders, and especially us ship crafters, or as humanity seems to call it, Starship Engineers, are people who practice a profession that requires patience, and it requires it in waves and droves."
Anahrin stopped talking momentarily, letting out a small cough before continuing. "You must learn that a Starship Engineer will face many walls in their design and crafting process. A lot of trial and error is required until you finally perfect what you want to make. Lack of patience is detrimental to the progress of a Starship Engineer, and it is something you need to learn."
Mark furrowed his brows as he responded. "And what? Am I supposed to learn this necessary patience in a day or something?"
Anahrin straightened, a cough rattling faintly in his chest before subsiding. "Not precisely, as I have said," he murmured, "but patience is not something one learns in abstraction. It must be lived, endured, and tested."
He lifted one long hand, fingers curling as if plucking invisible threads from the air. A hum pulsed through the walls, and a section of the corridor ahead shimmered before sliding away. Beyond it, a chamber revealed itself: circular, its walls lined with panels of dim light and shifting glyphs, the floor etched with intricate geometric patterns.
Mark stepped inside warily, glancing around. "This looks like a cross between a meditation room and a computer lab," he muttered.
Anahrin's lips curved faintly, the ghost of amusement present in his eyes. "In a sense, both are correct. Here is where you will learn through failure. And in failing, you will grow patient."
With a gesture, one of the walls lit up, displaying an array of shifting patterns, knots of light that tangled and unraveled in maddening complexity. "This puzzle," Anahrin said, "was once given to the children of my people to strengthen their capacity for focus. The task is quite simple, yet inexplicably hard: restore balance to the pattern. No force of strength will aid you, and haste will only tangle it further than it already is. The more you rush, the more it resists."
Mark squinted at the display. "So… it's as if a Rubik's cube had a baby with a migraine."
Anahrin's facial features shifted to one of confusion. "A what cube?"
Mark just shook his head in a gesture that said "never mind." For the next several hours, Mark wrestled with the glowing lattice. Each time he thought he saw the solution, the pattern collapsed into a deeper snarl, causing his frustration to mount, and more than once he caught himself muttering curses under his breath. Each time he slammed his fist against his knee or exhaled in a sharp huff, Anahrin remained silent, merely watching from the threshold like a teacher waiting for a stubborn student to exhaust himself.
By the end of the day, Mark threw up his hands. "This thing is impossible. There's no way you aren't screwing with me."
Anahrin only tilted his head. "And yet, though you may not see it, you have made progress. Rest is key to ensuring the mind's smooth development. Go and get some sleep and return tomorrow. Then you will try again."
The following week unfolded in the same manner, a rhythm of trying and failing with some growth in patience.
Unlike the first day, the puzzle brought by the second day was of shifting weights and levers, where every impatient tug reset the board. This one truly tested Mark's temper, causing it to flare at times, but for some reason, he found it oddly... interesting.
The third day was a tactile trial where he had to manipulate a series of rods and gears that resisted unless handled with delicate precision. The more Mark pushed, the less it yielded. By nightfall, he collapsed onto the dais, muttering, "I think I'm starting to get the hang of this, it's just unbearably slow, and you can't just rush this stuff."
The following days tested his mind more than his hands as Anahrin gave him sets of riddles with no immediate answer, questions whose solutions came only after hours of thought, when Mark stopped gnashing his teeth long enough to let the ideas unfurl. It was truly a test of the mind, ensuring one used every bit of it to analyze things and take their time doing so.
Mark eventually started to notice that something had changed within him. He no longer attacked the puzzles; rather, he studied them, observing their patterns as he waited for the eventual failure to come. Once it did, he would accept it with a grunt and a shake of his head, rather than a curse.
Anahrin noticed the shift within Mark as well. He could also feel how his breathing was growing more labored ever so slightly day after day, but his gaze burned bright when he observed Mark. "Do you see, Mark?" he said one evening. "Patience is not the absence of action. Rather, it is the stillness that allows wisdom to speak. In stillness, in moments of thinking in silence and reflection, you begin to see."
Mark leaned back against the chamber wall, sweat slicking his brow, but a crooked grin tugging at his lips. "Still feels like I've been put through some cosmic kindergarten. But… yeah. I think I get it. Rushing just makes things worse. Waiting, thinking, acting, failing, and then trying again later. The point isn't to produce or to achieve something, but to experience the process."
Anahrin inclined his head in approval. "Though you still lack it, patience is something that is always growing. While you are learning from me, you will notice your patience increase with the passage of time. Tomorrow, we will begin building your foundation. in the craft of thought that precedes the craft of ships."
Mark let his head fall back, exhaling hard. "Oh no, I was starting to like this, I was just getting into a rhythm." Mark let out a dry chuckle. "Alright then, time to get to the good stuff then."
Anahrin's smile was soft, almost paternal. "No, Mark. We're not getting into the good stuff, we are going into the basics of ships."