Hope was a mysterious concept to the Professor.
In this case, 'concept' was used with a lowercase 'c' and is not to be confused with the Vajrayian 'Concept'. Although, he supposed the Concept of Hope could be seen as mysterious, as Hope was a bit of an oddball, no matter the capitalization—at least to him.
People confronted with hopeless situations often seek hope to motivate them forward, to continue even in the face of impossible odds. Yet to seek hope must mean the individual in question lacks it; therefore, these individuals must have a desperate hope to begin with.
So, one could say the hopeless seek hope in hopeless situations because they're hopeful that finding hope will give them... Hope.
In the end, the only conclusion the Professor could draw from this tangled line of thought was that perhaps 'paradoxical' was a better adjective for that particular Concept.
'Paradoxical' or 'Human', either one will fit.
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*Dun, Dun* Banged the drums.
Morgan paid no mind to the drumming as it was likely just a part of the ceremony, though a part of him wanted to film Momo doing her part. He shook off the parental regret and thoroughly studied the so-called tool. Steadfastly refusing, the Monk was screwing with a desperate man.
The canvas had been painted entirely white to cover up any lingering lines of the notebook paper before black was added to create two shapes that make up the background. Formed from three solid black bands of stylized waves, each as wide as a thumbnail, made up the circle that touched the middle of each canvas edge. Nestled at the circle's center was a square composed of two wave bands in the same style.
At the top, bottom, left, and right are different-colored images made in a minimalist style and outlined in a black that was darker than the one used in the background. They occupied space above the square but still within the greater circle. Starting from the top in a clockwise direction, Ego had painted what looked like a blue wand, an upside-down yellow diamond, a red lotus, and last, a green double-sided pitchfork with a stubby handle.
Well, interesting artistic choices were certainly made there.
Within the square was yet another circular shape, though this one was definitely part of the foreground. Just like the other images, the outline for this eight-point ship wheel was darker, meaning the intended color was the same white as the background.
*Dun, Dun* Banged the drums.
Immediately, Morgan understood the connection between the gathered materials and the mess waiting for him to clean up at the base. The Monk required paint and had decided to create their own natural pigments. Likely, the raw materials were boiled to bleed off the rich color, then the colored water was isolated and thickeners were added. Morgan had seen a documentary on pre-industrial art that displayed the process decades ago. Which ment Ego had seen the same documentary not so long ago.
The lighter shade of black was likely the burnt remains of the driftwood rather than the soot he'd painstakingly made from the pillar roots. Guessing the rest from there was child's play, though a question began jumping up and down for his attention.
Where did they get a paintbrush? Assuming the tree sap was used for glue for the paper, the only unused material was the Cerberus… No. Did they really?
Morgan's brows shot up a whole millimeter in surprise as his best guess went unchallenged. The Monk needed a brush and so created one using the bristly Beast fur, sticky sap, and whatever slender piece of wood fit best in their hand. Judging by the consistency in the painting's strokes, the DIY brush was of decent quality. That took commitment.
Now, all the Scientist had to do was understand what it all meant.
*Dun, Dun* Banged the drums.
Clearly, the colors represented the different islands; white for Lamplight, green for Bazzaro, blue for the Lagoon, the yellow Garden, and red for the Crucible. That much was obvious.
What wasn't so easy to discern were these strange images and their relationship to the locations. Morgan might have felt comfortable calling them symbols if they even remotely represented their real-world counterparts. The wand for Luna Lagoon made some sense; the island had a magical quality to it, but how the hell could a lotus be related to the fiery home of the Cerberi?
Hell's Garden was the most mismatched, in his opinion. To ever compare that chlorophyll death trap to a cut jewel clearly meant they had never set foot on it. Oh, it was all dancing sunflowers and trumpeting petunias at first; he'll grant them that, but the moment one starts smelling figs… Bah. Finishing the thought wasn't worth the second round of nightmares. Still, the Diamond was the only image upside down. Could there be a meaning there, or was that simple artistic choice? Morgan knew of tarot cards and how their meaning changed if revealed upside down from the deck.
Did orientation matter when viewing the painting?
Unlikely, but what did he really have to lose?
The Scientist tilted his head to the right… Nothing. What about the left? Bingo! The hunch paid off, and now he knew exactly what he was looking at.
Morgan didn't notice it at first due to the unorthodox placements of the symbols, for they were now definitely symbols, but the painting had the islands in their correct placements relative to Lamplight Isla. If the painting were rotated once to the right so that North pointed up, the proper Earthing way, it would've read:
Center: White Wheel
North: Green Double Pitch Fork
East: Blue Scepter
South: Yellow Jewel
West: Red Lotus
The revelation was clear; this was a map of the local island cluster. A rough map as the distances between the locations were way off. However, accuracy wasn't always the point of a map. Sometimes, they are created to remind one of where they were and what they did. In a way, it was comforting to see how far the expiration had come in less than a month. In another, more relevant way, it was depressing as all hell that Morgan traveled so far with nothing to show for it.
*Dun-dun* Banged the drums.
*Th-thump* His heart beated in synchronized rhythm.
No, that conclusion was misleading. Even if Soul Sovereignty continued to elude him, the Professor gained knowledge that could fill volumes on these expeditions.
Morgan recalled that while swimming through the Swamp, he finally understood the role of Pholóē's trees in the ecosystem. Observing the aquatic Beasts of the Lagoon revealed the three-step food chain standard. Surviving the Garden taught him vigilance, but it more importantly confirmed the universal use of Essence in Cultivation. The Cerberi unfortunately proved to the human the unmistakable difference between him and them, yet there was more there. The Crucible also taught the Scientist how fundamental Aether is to Spiritual Beasts.
Correction; how fundamental Aether is to all non-Sapiant life, as Momo was a vanilla animal before she displayed her talent for bending space.
Hmm.
Actually, when compared to Biscuit, Momo's Soul was extremely slow on the uptake. The pup's Essence was already snacking on motes while the physical heads dove for that first-ever meal. But Momo's periodic check-ups with the Bloodline never showed any evidence of Aether infusement. Even during the last viewing before feeding her, there was nothing unordinary happening in her Foundations…
Huh. That was interesting. Between the Earthing animal and the Vajrayian Beast, both only display control over the Soul during and/or after their first meal in this Universe.
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*Dun-dun* Beat the drums.
*Th-thump* Beat the heart.
*Plip-plop* Like a giant blood vessel, the slow-moving river contracted towards its center before relaxing, all in time with the other beats.
The Professor sat up a little straighter on the prayer mat as adrenaline made the flesh tense. He might not be meditating on the Dao or whatever, but this train of thought had proposed a conflict with his earlier assumption.
What if, for non-Sapient creatures, Soul Sovereignty wasn't a reflex akin to breathing? What if, instead, the ability's trigger was tied to something more like an instinct? It'd have to be an instinct so innately ingrained in the DNA that all creatures possess it, such as appetite or hunger. Morgan thought the way Beasts use their Essence to literally consume Aether motes was just some thematic flavoring displayed by the Bloodline, but what if there was a real reason behind it?
Maybe a Beast's connection with the Dao was also one of understanding, an inherited understanding of the primal drive to eat. Could something as nebulous as appetite be a Concept?
The Monk had said before that the Dao was everything, and everything was the Dao. If Concepts were lesser universal truths, then the answer would be yes: anything can be a Concept, even instincts. That would explain why Mortals lack that inherent connection to the Dao, as Sapiance diluted the potency of baser instincts.
Morgan, indeed, like all Mortals, must find a new truth to follow—one as soul-stirring and primal as the law of the jungle: to eat or be eaten. In this day and age, the Vajrayian people know only the truth imparted by the Diamond Tantra. However, that Concept, whatever it was, would undoubtedly be foreign to him.
So, what drove him forward? The Concept had to be something fundamental, or it wouldn't work. The answer had to be so obvious that its persistent influence went unnoticed; something right in front of his face…
The Professor's blank stare across the bridge became one of intense focus on the tool given to him. Maps can show where one came from, but they can also show where one is going too.
*Dun-dun* Beat the drums.
*Th-thump* Beat the heart.
*Plip-plop* Beat the river.
"Purpose isn't hard to find, so long as you know where to look." Whispered the traveler, echoing the words of his Guide. "Oh Ego, you clever Spirit of a Monk."
Morgan triggered Perception of the Stone Sage and threw open the floodgates, removing every filter to see things as they truly were. The world… was not obscured by an impenetrable fog of ambient Aether like it usually was in the cave. Instead, Morgan found himself in an energy-free zone. Behind him and ahead of him, Aether formed a massive wall as the energy refused to cross the river. To cross the natural watery border, the cosmic energy infused itself into the bridge, entering through the East and exiting through the West. To his enhanced sight, the stone resembled three concentrated streams of black, white, and gray electricity arcing between the shores. However, the bridge wasn't the only object saturated with energy.
Yang and Yin attuned Aether passed right by unimpeded while the Neutral Aether streamed up the tripod's legs and flooded into the painting. However, the map wasn't a solid slap of mote light like the tripod or bridge. Instead, the glowing grey motes gathered in the symbols on the art piece in various intensities. From dimmest to brightest, it went: Bizzaro Swamp, Luna Lagoon, Hell's Garden, and Trinity's Crucible. Yet, Lamplight Isla remained a darkened silhouette.
The Scientist interpreted the increasing luminosity as a metaphor for his journey thus far. With each island visited, his knowledge and understanding of it grew. But as the starting point, Lamplight should be the dimmest but still lit. Ergo, the map should show, or at least hint at, what direction Morgan needed to go to find the knowledge he sought.
So, why wasn't Lamplight Isla lit up at all?
*Th-thump* Beat the heart.
*Dun-dun* Beat the drums.
*Plip-plop* Beat the river.
OH! Of Course!
Obviously, Lamplight wasn't the starting point! The island was the next destination, the location where the Professor could discover the answer he sought. For that reason, the Monk did what they did; Ego was trying to show him the way. The preparations, the ceremony, all of it was for this moment—the moment when Morgan finally understood what he was.
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All around the human, things were becoming chaotic. Not only did the supernatural pulsing of the river increase, but so to did the speed at which the stream moved at. Over and over, in time with the rhythmic beatings, Momo and Ego were soaked to the physical and metaphorical bone as the river threatened to escape its banks.
"Here comes another one!" Warned Ego in a scream that could barely be heard over the crashing waves and roaring river. "Brace yourself!"
*Splash!*
"Err!" Grunted Momo in frustration, her tongue furiously darting out to clear the water from her lidless eyes. Frigid cave water coated every soft scale on the monstrous body, chilling her to the core. Still, the Princess held her drumstick at the ready.
"Stay strong, it's almost over!"
"Meh?" Momo said in disbelief, turning to the Spirit with a suspicious light in her monochrome eyes.
"I know what I said before!" Ego grumbled, their head tilting up at the lightless ceiling. "Don't ask how, but I can sense he's caught the attention of… of something big! Whatever it is, its presence is somehow clearing the obstructions clouding his Dao! It's helping!"
"Mmm!" The Beast turned back to the bridge, ready to do whatever it took to assist her father in seizing this opportunity.
The Monk, however, flinched as the presence's gaze swept over the island again. Alien and overpowering emotions battered their Essence, threatening to sweep the Spirit away like a leaf before the gales of an Autumn storm. The Guide forced their attention back to their charge, jaw set in determination to see this through to the end. An end that would hopefully come soon.
For the unknown entity above might've cleared the Path, but only because it feverishly searched for the one attempting to walk it. Worst still, the entity's gaze contained an ancient and blood-thirsty wrath that promised a painful death for whatever had caught its attention.
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Whether fortune or misfortune, Morgan didn't notice a damned thing in the deep meditative state. Where his hand met stone, the warm sensation grew in time with the old man's excitement. But otherwise, nothing reached him. Not even the frothing waters placed so much as a single drop on him or the map. It was as if reality itself knew that time had finally come; a song 77 years in the making was about to reach its crescendo.
"Am I the Scientist?" Asked the Professor.
*Dun-dun, Dun-dun* Beat the drums.
*Th-thump, Th-thump* Beat the heart.
*Plip-plop, Plip-plop* Beat the river.
Yes, but you are more.
The answer came to him immediately like divine inspiration, and the understanding caused a corner of his mouth to twitch upwards.
"Am I the Professor?" Asked the Scientist.
*Th-thump, Th-thump, Th-thump* The heart beated faster.
*Dun-dun, Dun-dun, Dun-dun* The drums beated faster.
*Plip-plop, Plip-plop, Plip-plop* The river beated faster.
Yes, but you are more.
Of course. From questions came discovery, and from discovery came yet more questions. One discovery to the next, the Earthling's drive will take him on an endless road of questions.
Finally, for the first time in 50 years, things were starting to make sense again. His mouth twisted into what might be the faintest of grins.
"What am I?" Asked Charles Morgan, before closing his eyes.
*...* The heart stopped beating.
*...* The drum stopped beating.
*...* The river stopped beating.
Everything simply stopped, as all of creation wished to witness the birth of something new.
Someone, who wasn't anyone, spoke to the Mortal with a voice that couldn't be heard, yet all listened closely.
What is your Drive?
"The Path before me." He said.
What is your Path?
"That which drives me." He said.
What is your Truth?
"What I have always known and yet forgot all the same." He said.
What is your Truth?
"The light in my Sky. My Moon. My Sun." He said.
What. Is. Your. Truth?
He answered, with a smile.
"Curiosity."
*...*
Morgan opened his eyes, but what he saw made little sense. The painting should have been the first thing in view, yet he watched in puzzlement as Ego and Momo ran across the bridge screaming for him. His location was another issue, as he seemed to be standing on the West shore now, without any memory of crossing the bridge.
These strange inconsistencies were almost as distracting as his vision darkening or the floor coming up to-
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Although none of the temporary inhabitants of Lamplight Isla could have known at the time, their act reverberated throughout all Realms under the Heavens.
For the second time in the 108th Epoch, a pebble had been thrown in the pond of Fate. Only the Highest, the Consigliere, and the Patron could feel the nascent ripple.
The first snorted, the second questioned, and the third celebrated.