"Warriors live to fight; soldiers fight to live. Remember this, because you will face both, and the tactics involved differ; it is far harder to break the spirit of a warrior than it is to break the spirit of a soldier."

This lesson was the first in which Self was not alone; twelve other djinn sat crossed-legged in the room, in a semicircle around the raised dais upon which sat Harabi, the eldest loop-bound, who was speaking to the group.

Harabi looked ... like any other djinn. Perhaps the most average djinn Self had seen yet, apart from the clothing. The clothing was distinctive in itself; the skirt was dyed in stripes of blue and red, the blue stripe in the front middle the widest, and narrowing to thin alternating slits as it reached the sides, until it achieved an odd purple tint. Above this was a tabard, which was ... eye bending, columns of red and blue squares which were slightly offset from each other, which made it impossible to tell where the fabric folded; it all looked folded.

"The objective in battle is not to break your enemies, but to break their spirits. Likewise, they will seek to break yours, to make your ranks fall apart and flee. To run is not to live, it is to die; more die in routs than in combat itself."

Harabi's voice was deeper in timbre, at least. The voice was distinctive, if the face was not. The eldest loop-bound in the community, Harabi's obligations of protection extended to teaching the acts of protection to others; both the newer loop-bound, and djinn who had reached the age of naming, as all might be called to the defense of their community in a time of need.

"Do not be the first to break rank. Neither be the last. If you retreat, retreat as one. And you will retreat. When we get to practice, the first thing you will practice each day is the retreat, and the last thing you will practice each day is the retreat. You will not flee, a hundred deer to be run down at the enemy's leisure - you will retreat as you came, as a unit."

Harabi's instruction had a ... somewhat meandering nature, much different from the straight lines of Efre's etiquette lessons, even different from the curved lines of the ethics and obligations lessons. Efre had a chosen beginning and end to each lesson; Harabi would veer from topic to topic withoutapparent plan.

"You are not warriors as the div, and neither are you soldiers as the peri. You are djinn. You do not live to fight, nor will you fight to live. You will fight that the weaker do not have to."

Self wasn't certain of these lessons at all; it didn't have the way of learning anything, more like ... etiquette. Like doing something for emotional or social purposes. The purpose of the loop-bound was protection; if Self understood Harabi correctly, the loop-bound were indeed warriors. Perhaps these lessons were more directed at the other djinn, who paid rapt attention to the member of the community who had participated in more skirmishes and battles than any other.

"This means the very last thing you actually want to do is fight. Your first weapon is not your spear, nor your magic. Your first weapon is your mind. Your second weapon is your words. Your spear or magic come in a distant seventh or eighth."

The room was a semi-circle, was a raised platform in the middle. It had room for many more than were present, the floor scattered with cushions, only a few of which were occupied. The walls were flat, a pale stone gray stone, which made Harabi's voice resound louder - Efre had explained the room in some detail during one of the etiquette lessons, as it was used for many social purposes. The ceiling had curious shapes, which apparently helped voices carry better.

"Raising your spear means you have already lost the first, and most important battle, but that is not what this instruction is about, so its loss will be a given. In every battle of the spears, friends and family will fall. If you reach that point, it had best be prepared, that as few fall as possible. The second battle is in choosing the conditions for the battle; the peri focus most heavily on the place, the div focus most heavily on the time. The djinn focus on more ... subtle aspects."

The students surrounding Self were youthful, but otherwise a diverse group. A couple had horns, and they wore a wide variety of types of garments, in many shades of reds and blues. One student wore a pair of spectacles, which Efre had explained to Self, but these were the first that Self had actually seen.

"If you must meet in the field of battle, it is best if the enemy is hungry, tired, divided, misinformed, unprepared. This is the second battle, and your enemy will fight you in this battle with cunning; do not plan for any plan to succeed, plan to have so many plans that no single plan needs to."

The students paid close attention; apparently most people had trouble remembering things. Self wasn't sure if they just didn't know how - it was a simple matter to keep memory engaged - or if perhaps this was some aspect of being loop-bound. A couple of them were writing as Harabi spoke.

"In this second battle, you are waging war on the enemy spirit, on their willingness to fight you at all. The peri and div aim to have the advantage of terrain, or the advantage of the timing of attacks; these only matter if they are willing to press that advantage. If they are hungry, if they are tired, if they think your force is larger than it is, or if they enter a battle they think they have the advantage only to see numbers they didn't anticipate, their will to fight will be depleted.

"Both the peri and the div have the advantage of numbers; the peri, in their loop-bound, and the div, in warriors and magus. The djinn have the advantage that we are not there to fight at all. We have the advantage of strategy, and of tactics. Master them.

"Now, the ambush ..."

The lesson became a series of discussions of what Harabi called tactics, and their respective roles in several broad strategies; the ambush could be an effective attack, but only as part of a broader strategy to, for instance, keep the enemy uncertain and off-balance, unable to rest or move quickly. A tortoise formation could minimize casualties, but was most useful to delay an enemy force. Tactics were pieces of stratagems, which in turn needed to be part of a broader plan. It was information, which Self tucked away into memory, but it was ... flat.

Gradually the other classmates filtered out after brief conversations, heavy on honorifics, with the djinn leading the lesson, until only Self remained, seated cross-legged. Harabi watched the last of the other djinn leave, and turned back to Self, expression unreadable. At length, the elder spoke.

"So you're the new one. I'm not pleased with the cost, but it isn't the worst that one of us have inflicted. You know my name, of course, by what do you go by?"

"Self."

"Huh." Harabi leaned back slightly, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, and back down. "So that was true. I see the appeal, but you might consider picking another, before Zana does for you. It's a bit too, heh, appropriate, I think it may make people somewhat nervous."

Self thought that over for a second. Reactions to the name had, at times, been a little bit in violation of etiquette. "What would you recommend?"

"Ah, kid, I'm not Zana, I'm not going to tell you what your name should be. Think about it, find something that feels appropriate. Maybe not that appropriate, though." Harabi's shoulders moved slightly with the words. Body language, but this wasn't an area Self had much experience with.

"Alright." Memory pulsed, a reminder. "Do you feel the minds of others? Can you take concepts from them?"

Harabi didn't answer right away, studying Self, reclining slowly back, weight supported on arms outstretched behind. At length, the words came out, slowly. "So that's what it was. I do not. I'm unaware, in fact, of any loop-bound who has done what you did. It usually takes weeks just to get one of us to realize that the people surrounding them are other people, and months to learn enough language to actually hold a conversation.

"You skipped a lot of development. I expect you'll have to play catch-up, but there's time for that." An exhalation, and a smile. "You've certainly thrown off some schedules. Alima was supposed to introduce you to the world, and won't hear news of this for another month or two. Off in the Southreach, helping with a new loop-bound there; their last took out their entire staff. I've never seen Efre so busy."

Self wasn't certain what to make of this. The conversation fell into a more familiar routine of etiquette, with Harabi doing most of the talking, now discussing the issues of Southreach - a community across the mountains to the east, although Self lacked any frame of reference for what that meant, except that it meant travel took time.

The conversation wound to a polite halt, Harabi indicating that another class would begin soon, and Self stepped outside. A couple of students were standing outside the vaulted double-doors, which Self didn't initially notice, busy closing the doors gently behind.

"So you're the new loop-bound. I'm Fan, this here is Sidou." It was the spectacled student speaking, perhaps the only classmate Self would actually recognize. The names given weren't names, yet; they were convenience names, used for those who were too young to be given names.

Self nodded - it was important to use body language, according to Efre, people found it unnerving if you didn't - and replied, "I am currently Self, but that name is as temporary as yours." Convenience names lacked much of the rules of etiquette as obligation names. Fan's facial expression was one of brief startlement, followed by a frown, then a slight smile. Maybe there were rules of etiquette Self didn't know yet. Or maybe it was a reaction to the name itself, there had been a few of those.

"You're weird, Self. That's good. So, what's it like being a loop-bound?"

Self's mind whirled for a second, trying to compare memories from the dead, and described the most obvious difference. "I have no history." Fan's smile slipped, slightly, before recovering.

The walk back to Self's quarters had two unexpected companions, one silent, and the other unfailing in questions. They departed, then, saying they'd talk more tomorrow. The solitude of the room was welcome. But the room also felt emptier, somehow, than it had in the weeks prior.