6 - Core
When he thought about his past, reminiscing about his life in the world before he transmigrated, Arthur could only see hazy memories, scenes and events happening through a foggy lens. This wasn't something which happened after his transmigration, it had always been like this for the boy. Memories which he didn't care about enough to remember, relationships forged only to exist in the moment.That was the majority of his life.
The reason was quite the simple one, he simply didn’t care too much about living. It’s not like he wished to cease the state of living, but the state of active living, enjoying the small and big things in life, was something he couldn’t bring himself to do. Even if he faked enjoying companionships, or relations with his family, that was all it was, something fake.
He was a flower nipped at the bud. Cursed with the words ‘natural born genius’, praised by his parents as a one in a million talent, groomed and tailored to live up to their expectations. And in doing so, he never had the chance to find something worth living for, other than following the dreams forced unto him.
And now, cast into another world, a foreign reality where he wouldn’t be forced to follow anyone’s dreams or plans, he sure as hell wasn’t going to follow the schemes Ayn had for him. He enjoyed talking and bickering with the other, but only as much as he enjoyed anything else in life, only on a surface level.
“Seriously, what the hell are you talking about…?”
“You heard me, I'm sure you did. The way I want to live in this place, is by following through with Sol's offer.”
‘Offer?’ Ayn furrowed his brows at those words. What could that man have offered him, to make him side with him so decidedly? Surely, it was some sort of trickery, a way to cheat Arthur out of his freedom after seemingly having given it back to him, nothing more than a cheap trip. And yet, that fire burning in his eyes was real, more real than anything he had ever seen. What could have brought forth this spurt of determination?
“And what, what exactly, what did he offer you, huh? You otherworldly moron… He's probably, lying or something, trying to trick you into following him, and-”
“Isn't that what you're doing, too?”
“…?!”
“Sure, we're acting all buddy buddy, and you're treating me like a brother, but for all I know, this could just be a way of gaining my trust. See, if there's something I despise, it's when people want me to do something for them. Above everything in this shitty life, that's what I hate the most.”
“Do, do you think he's just going to set you free, then? Do you think you're not gonna have to do anything, do you think he doesn't want you to do anything? Do you think he doesn't have any expectations for you, or something like that?”
“It's not like that. He told me clearly what he wants of me, he wants to use and abuse a ‘potential’ he sees.”
“Then, what is the difference?!”
“What, are you too dumb to see it by yourself, and you call me a moron?”
Despite his hatred for those that only saw him as a lump of talent, as a genius, Arthur preferred cold, hard logic over anything else. If he could understand something rationally, he could understand the entirety of its essence, all that it was.
“I have no idea where your goal lies, in using me. On the other hand, that man lets himself be read like an open book. I'll use him, and he'll use me. In contrast, staying with you and blindly trusting ‘that person’ would be irrational.”
That was the logic which Arthur Luria believed in. A perverse ideology of using and being used for their own, separate goals, connected only by that shining talent which the Teiwesian saw in him. Arthur trusted that man thought the same thing, he'd let himself be used if it meant uncovering a hidden treasure.
That was, ultimately, what separated Ayn and Sol, in the transmigrator's eyes. One, although morally the better choice, was the same as those that pushed him into a life of boredom and repetitiveness in his old world. Instead, that man offered him a new expectation, one he had never seen before. And most importantly…
“I feel like if I follow that man… I'll find this life enjoyable. Y'know, enjoying life is important. So, pardon me for being selfish.”
“That, that goes over being selfish, you're ruining… Shit, whatever.”
Ayn exhaled from his nose, exasperated, trying to calm himself down. Despite both of them being elves, with Ayn's longevity and Arthur having lived a life prior to transmigrating, neither of the two was truly a child, mentally. However, the shorter haired one still wasn't as mature as the other. To his eyes, Arthur seemed like an unreadable monster of rationality and adaptability, a singularity that could make or break any plan he's involved in.
Rationality which went hand in hand with Arthur's desire for fun, a walking paradox. He was an insurmountable wall for the young elf, something which needed to be surpassed for their plans to come to fruition. However, he wasn't as logical as the otherworldly moron, no. He was far more emotional.
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“Fine, then. Do what you like. Don't come crying back to me when you realize what you're heading into.”
Either way, Aurora would have to pick him up, too. That was the last thought that passed through Ayn's head, before he left the room. Arthur basked in the calm of the quiet room immediately after the argument, before promptly falling back on the bed, lying on his back with a dumb smile plastered on his face.
“This feels good… Shutting him down like that… Choosing what I want to do for myself…”
He’d stay lying down, unmoving, for a few more moments, just enjoying the small ‘victory’ he had just acquired for himself.
“Man, maybe I'm a bit messed up in the head.”
Chuckling to himself like someone who had just played a prank on their friend, he'd spread his arms, lying down with his eyes now closed. Despite the seriousness of the declaration he had given out, the atmosphere in that room was light and comfortable. Soon enough, he'd sit upright once again.
“Back to training, I guess… Can't let the chance slip by.”
And with that, he closed his eyes, submerging in the ‘instinctual’ world. Since the previous day, when he first met that man, he had done a bit of introspection, in a literal way. According to his words, there was a pretty big chance his ‘Core’, which supposedly played a part in refining Archê, had been damaged from his stunt at the mining station.
That, seemed to check out. He could feel the Archê around his body and direct it into it, but he couldn't find a latch, a point, a spot to gather it which would cause any noticeable change. As if issuing him a challenge, Sol hadn't given him any tips on what exactly a Core was, and asking Ayn was out of the question. He had to figure this out on his own.
“Alright, think… Re-view those memories, see that sight again… What was he doing, before swinging the pickaxe…?”
The reason why his first attempt at flowing Archê failed, he figured, was because of how hasty that improvisation was. He only copied Ayn's general movements and flow of Archê, not paying mind to the minute details. But he had figured out that much, already.
Which meant he had to copy those movements in a deeper, more accurate, more insightful manner. Copy exactly how and where the Archê flowed, deduce why it moved in that manner, and figure out a way to copy it with his transmigrator brain and manners.
If only his body were in a good enough state to get up and get working again, he could head to the mining station, and observe other prisoners in-between strikes. His memory was quite good, but not good enough to go solely off the memory of Ayn swinging his pickaxe. If he wanted to figure this problem out, he'd need to observe someone ‘flow’ their Ark.
Which would prove quite hard, considering that room was far from any workstation, or any place where people would actively use their Archê.
“… No, wait. That's wrong.”
What he needed wasn't active usage. ‘Remember what he said. For them, it's nothing short of natural.’ For the inhabitants of that world, converting Archê into Ark, and utilising it to strengthen and enhance their bodies, was something ordinary, something as natural to them as breathing. He was trying to see with his eyes open, not understanding what sight was.
He didn't need to watch someone work, he just needed to watch an inhabitant of that world, while in that ‘instinctual’ world of his. Submerged in that abyss, he was sensitive to even the smallest sparks of Archê, his senses, although dulled, sharp enough to catch the shifting of that energy. He could feel sparks leading off somewhere in the distance, but they weren't close enough that he could observe with precision.
What he needed was something much, much closer. And as if reading his mind and granting him his wish, two pairs of footsteps, one light and one heavier, walked down the corridor, headed towards the room. He could guess who they belonged to, but in that moment it didn't matter, he just needed to focus on how their Archê turned into Ark, and how it flowed in their bodies.
“Don't go in yet. I can tell the kid's focusin' on somethin'.”
“And that's a good thing. Alright.”
“Aye. As soon as somethin' blows up, that's our cue he figured it out.”
To gather Archê into his body, Arthur had to make a conscious, active effort. Dip into that instinctive world, focus on the energy which shifted and moved around him, then gather it into his body, and lastly, spread it throughout every joint for a burst of explosive power. That's how he did it the first and only time.
However, an ‘active’ method wouldn't cut it, if he wanted to make his talent truly shine. To reach the standard of normalcy, he needed to reach a state where his body, with no external input, could flow Ark through itself to strengthen Arthur. But before he could do that, he needed to figure out how to refine Ark.
For something which was as natural as breathing or seeing to the inhabitants of that world, it sure had a lot of steps. No, when he thought about it, breathing was just as complex. The muscle movements in the nose to draw in air, the pulmonary action to filter the oxygen, and all the other steps he never bothered to learn in biology class. Breathing was the same as refining Archê.
To breathe, he needed organs, the lungs, and a receptor to draw in the air. His entire body was the receptor for Archê, and in that case, his ‘Core’ must be some sort of organ, too, but it's not like he could dig inside his own body and scoop out each organ one by one, to figure out where the Core was. All he could do, was ‘feel’.
“Keep that line of thought… I'm almost there…”
And if the Core was an organ, which refined Archê and spread Ark throughout the body, its function was the same as the heart with blood, or as lungs with oxygen. No, while the heart seemed a good comparison, he could feel Archê flowing in from the outside, so it wasn't something his own body generated.
Then, the lungs were probably closer, he could settle on that. He started to understand why his act seemed so unique, and an attention grabber- it's like someone had ran to Sol, and started breathing in only carbon monoxide, completely stopping their lungs from filtering the oxygen from the air, and collapsed on the spot while mumbling victorious words.
A chuckle escaped his lips, that ridiculous comparison making him understand his own stupidity. And if he was already acting ridiculous, then… He might as well try something he never did before. He was a man of logic, but right now, he had a chance to turn his life upside down, become a completely new person. And the first step towards that, would be…
To use fantasy novels as an instruction manual. This wasn't an uncommon trope, especially in stories which revolved around settings with extreme use of magic: an organ, a soul, something which resides in every human, an internal ‘reserve’ of magic. Thinking back, Sol also mentioned something about exhausting his Archê reserves, despite Arthur being sure he had drawn in that Archê from the outside.
But if there truly was something like that inside his body, a storage of Archê, an internal, private storage of energy, then…
“Found you.”
Smirking at himself, he looked down at his body, a feeling of energy emitting from a flickering, golden light right next to his heart.