“I do not understand why you did not want your father coming with you to these meetings. He would be far more knowledgeable on the subject matter and, in fact, is much more acquainted with several of the people with whom we are going to speak.” My Mother pointed out.
I nodded along, this not being the first time she brought up these objections. It was almost as though she was uncomfortable in front of people of power, which I knew was the real reason for her objections even if she would never admit it. “I know, but that is exactly one of the reasons I don’t want him there. I want this to be a talk between myself and those who know more; not a three way talk with my Dad butting in all the time. Do you really think he would be quiet if the talk started to go in an ‘interesting’ direction?”
She huffed out unhappily but didn’t disagree. Instead she led me down various corridors of the giant modern looking building that I had seen during my day of wondering, the one that sat across from the obvious temple. Apparently we were going to see the principal of the school since he was both someone that my Father knew well enough to get me an in and, due to his job, was used to explaining things to children. I wasn’t too enthused that my Dad had gone out of the way to pick someone based on assumptions of childishness, but at least I knew that he was someone who should know what he was talking about and not some rando with delusions of competence.
My mother stopped me outside a door labeled ‘Dr. Constance Soreus’ and began to straighten up my clothes despite them being already in good order. The robes reminded me of the stuff that the Star Wars episode 3 younglings (children) wore just before Anakin/Darth Vader came in to slaughter them which, considering what happened to them, was not a happy thought. Her ministrations seemed to be calming her so I sat back patiently and let her waste a couple minutes, and I even kept my eye rolls down to an absolute minimum as she worked at moving things one direction and then back to the exact place it had been previously. Eventually though she ran out of adjustments that were humanly possible to make and knocked on the door.
A male voice immediately called out from within the room. “Enter.”
Mom opened the door to show what looked like a college professor’s office complete with three full walls full of books and a couple tables worth of curios. The room was of a good size, enough to have a separate seating nook for more personal conversations aside from his desk and an area near the back with what looked to be experiments and the even more nick-knacks. The man himself looked to be in good shape and was wearing a suit that looked far too fancy for daily wear and yet thick enough to double as winter clothing despite the weather being closer to a nice spring. Well, I may think it as too much but he moved as though it was light and comfortable daily wear. He moved so easily that I couldn’t tell if his smooth movement was a testament to the quality of his clothing, some sort of magic, or simply a result of his constant use of such attire. I, at least, found it to be needlessly dressy for what amounted to a school principal. In my old world his position would be mostly clerical but maybe it was different here?
“Come, Sit.” He called out, gesturing toward the nook of padded chairs. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you ever since your father mentioned your questions. I must admit, it isn’t often that one so young is so interested in questions as lofty as why the world works as it does. It led to other questions about your background and aspirations, something that ends up being far more related to your original question than you might realize. But first, please introduce yourself and your intent.” He waited for both of us to walk to our chairs before sitting quickly before I could. My mother gave me an exasperated look as I climbed onto one and then silently sat in the other. I’m sure I did something weird there but it didn’t seem like she was going to call me out on it.
“My name is William Townsen. I have earned no title or acclaim. I come to ask questions about the nature of the world.” I said, struggling not to roll my eyes at the stuffily formal introduction that was required of me, then dove straight into my questions. “I mean, seriously, has nobody pointed out how weird the world is? Levels, stats, classes, and all; and that even before we mention the whole ‘not dying’ thing! And why are there only three major factions in the world? Shouldn’t every power hungry powerhouse be in charge of their own group? It isn’t even based on normal divisions, like good vs evil or order vs chaos! The closest thing I can compare it to from my old world is the old guessing game of ‘animal, vegetable, or mineral’, which is completely absurd! And then there are the little things like the fact that people have mouths but don’t need to eat and if we do the food just disappears! Whatever happened to ‘conservation of mass’!”
I took a breath and noticed an amused look on the educator’s face. A glance at my mother returned a horrified expression. I took a breath to try to calm myself down. “Sorry,” I apologized, “this stuff has me pretty worked up.”
Dr. Soreus let out a polite chuckle. “No apology necessary. You certainly are your father’s son. I’m sure plenty of people would hope that your mother’s polite demeanor would be the more dominant influence but I, for one, see too little of real passion to squash it when I see it.” He waved away the topic of my impolite outburst with a polite swipe of his hand and continued. “I’m here to try to help answer some of those questions. But please, one at a time. What would you like to focus on first?” he smiled as he spoke in a grandfatherly way despite him looking to be my parent’s age. Then again, with how people physically aged, there was no telling how long he had been around.
“Let’s start with a simple question. People don’t have to eat but when they do the stuff just disappears. What happened to the basic laws of physics? Does everything someone eat reduce the size of the planet by a single mouthful until eventually there isn’t a place to stand? How does that all work?”
He smiled again. “A simple question. The world is powered by the strength given off by the human soul. We radiate it out and it congregates in the world around us; thus giving rise to life, the elements, and even allowing the land itself to grow. The world returns to its basic pattern, given time, and anything we eat is simply reabsorbed into the source. As population grows, so does the world and its pattern. If mankind decides to create then those things remain, but if mankind ignores our creations then those things eventually crumble to less than dust as we neglect to sustain them.”
Hu. That was an odd explanation. It was kind of a ‘magical’ way of thinking but then this world had magic so there was no telling how much had changed. “So eating things and having them disappear is normal because that is where the energy came from originally and that same energy is what controls and regulates the rest of the world?” I asked, trying to confirm my understanding, and got a nod. Good enough, but not to focus on why that didn’t make any type of real logical sense. The whole ‘matter from nothing’ thing was still throwing me for a loop. “But what about ‘Conservation of Energy’? You can’t just add energy to a system without it eventually exploding. Or are you saying that the world isn’t a closed system tending toward chaos over time? Where does that energy come from?”
He nodded along before speaking. “Your father mentioned that you came from a scientifically aligned world, including some things that were difficult to wrap my head around. What did your old way of thinking say about where the world came from? Both the energy to create it and the direction for what was created?”
I shrugged. “Most people say there was a big explosion and things just eventually randomly settled in such a way that allowed for life. They called it the ‘Big Bang’ and supposedly it happened over a near infinite number of universes a near infinite number of times. You get enough universe creating explosions and eventually one of them is bound to be perfect for people and have people appear in it.” I nodded my head. “I didn’t really look into it too much because something so far back seemed useless for my daily life.”
“Understandable,” he acknowledged, “but think: Where did the energy and matter that made up that ‘Big Bang’ originally come from and how improbable do the exact conditions for life and thinking beings have to be before it is less crazy to say that things came about by a plan rather than just random chance? The universal constants alone in this universe are so exacting as to make their random appearance absurd, and I have no doubt that this was true in your old universe as well. And that still begs the question of where all the ‘stuff’ came from for that first ‘Big Bang’.”
Wait, was he really? “Are you trying to talk about some sort of ‘intelligent design’? I thought the temple was across the street!”
He smiled again, but this time it didn’t reach his eyes. “Why ascribe motive to some outside actor when internal ones will do just as well? The world is designed in such a way as is perfect for the intelligent human mind, and we know that the soul exists and is important for the functioning of the world, so why dream up some ‘god’ when the collective will of humanity will suffice?”
This was not the answer I was expecting. “So wait. You are saying that people created the world even before there were people? How exactly is that supposed to work?” It sounded like he was replacing the traditional ‘creator god’ with people.
“It isn’t so very complicated. Time is an aspect of the physical universe, so a thoughtful being outside of time would not need to worry about being around ‘before’ the universe because time would only start when they said so. Some magic lets us bend time, so we know it is an aspect of the universe, and the way that people come back after dying proves that our minds and souls are not inescapably bound to this physical plane. Even in my old world we knew this was true because ghosts and other specters from outside physicality were not unheard of, even if they were rare.”
Well that was an interesting way to deal with causality, just remove time and the order of things only starts whenever you say so. “But even then, you would still need people around if mankind created the world. Where did they come from?” This whole ‘man as creator’ thing was hard to put my mind around.
He smiled again, more genuinely than before. “We don’t know for certain, but we do have some clues. Perhaps reality is more ordered than we realize, at least when it is viewed from a scale more vast than we can imagine. Perhaps your world’s theory is true; that intelligence is bound to appear eventually if given enough opportunity. There are theories but we haven’t found the answer yet. What we do know is that the universe is designed in such a way that it is uniquely hospitable to sapient life and with a sort of order that our minds can comprehend. The fact that it is understandable at all proves that the design either came from an advanced human mind or, if not that, a mind so similar to a person’s that calling it something other than ‘human’ is an exercise in empty semantics.”
“I, uh, wow…” It took me a few moments to process what he was saying. He gave me some time, studying my face as I contemplated his explanation. “I don’t know what to think of that.” I finally answered honestly. I mean it didn’t really answer my question about the universe exploding, except that if people created the universe and people in the universe are what sustains it then the regulation of everything isn’t too difficult a problem to deal with; if it gets too much then just stop putting more into it till it shrinks to a better size. Then there was still the whole ‘something from nothing’ issue; but he was right in pointing out that even the ‘big bang’ theory had that problem. I was hoping for a simple answer to the weirdness of the world and his explanations only seemed to make things more complicated. I was hoping for something like ‘magic nanites’/midicloreans, an alien system imposed over the universe, or even genetic engineering run to a weird degree. His explanation was somewhere between philosophy and theology; though, in truth, I’m not really sure where one ends and the other starts.
He smiled again more brightly and leaned back a bit in his chair. I hadn’t even noticed him leaning forward but he seemed to feel that his point had been made. “It is a lot to take in but understanding that can help you understand some of the other weirdness of our world. Tell me, what did you want from life before you came here? What do you want out of life now?”
The transition left me a bit confused. “I’m not sure what you mean?”
“Think about it, it is important.”
I took a few moments but decided to answer honestly. “I don’t know. I never really thought about it. Why is it important?” This whole question of ‘life goals’ wasn’t exactly what I had come to ask about.
“This is a question we will come back to again and again no matter how you try to avoid the issue. It means more than you realize. But as for how it relates to your other questions, it explains much of the ‘weirdness’ of our world. People don’t want to die permanently so here they don’t. People don’t want to experience hunger or their stuff degrading from use, so they don’t. People want an easily measurable indicator of your abilities and growth, so we have stats. People want clearly identifiable determinations of what people are capable of, so we have classes and builds. If the world is built to human specifications for human desires then understanding why things exist becomes much more straightforward.”
And if I, an avid video gamer and professional game reviewer, wanted a game like world then this is what I got? “I think I understand.” I said, as things seemed to fall into place, at least for myself. I could see myself at some point on death’s door wanting a video game world. But what about everyone else? Most of them had no concept of games at all, and even when it was explained they found the idea to be a crazy thing, and so there was no way that they would want something game like when this type of game never existed in their worlds.
He gave me a discerning look and continued. “You might be on the cusp of that knowledge,” he answered appreciatively, “but I can tell you haven’t quite grasped what it means for you and for everyone else. Since the world is made by man, both directed and sustained by it, one question takes preeminent significance: What do you want out of life and how will you make it a better place?”
I thought for a moment. “What do you mean by ‘a better place’?” I deflected.
He smiled knowingly. “That is up to you to decide, assuming you have the strength of will and character to become a mover of history. I encourage all my young students to make the most of what they can be but I can admit that some have more potential than others. You just happen to be one of those children.”
My Dad had once mentioned something about ‘fate’ magic being a real thing but had declined to say much more than that I didn’t have to worry about it as long as I didn’t break too many laws. This annoyed me to no end. What good was it to live in an educated magical society where the mysteries of magic were well researched if I couldn’t go through the wiki to answer all my questions? So was this some aspect of that same ‘fate’ thing? I knew that my Mother could see my stats, could this man see whatever idea of a ‘destiny’ this world thought it had for me? I mean, regardless of it I would play along with that plan, it would be nice to know what that plan had been. “So does that mean you can see my ‘fate’?” I finally asked, trying to condense my thinking into a straightforward question.
He waved my question off. “No, no. Nothing like that. You make your own destiny by the choices you make and the life you lead. The world pushes everyone toward mediocracy, though, and so it takes an unusual personality to do something different. You seem to have just such a unique approach to the world. We tell our children to work hard and grow up fast, but we are completely prepared for the fact that a newly awakened child will ignore that advice. You are still on the outside edge of your first season and yet have grown so far! Most children take multiple seasons to grow even once! So tell me, what is it that pushes you forward so diligently?”
That was a weird question. “I don’t really know what you mean. I always did dive into whatever game I was playing, throwing myself into learning what it was and how it worked. Here I just have fewer distractions to pull me away and I use the distraction of how my body makes me feel childish to refocus on making that immaturity go away.” The whole ‘childishness’ thing really has been annoying, afterall.
“Marvelous! Simply Marvelous! And once you have attained that goal, what then?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Keep growing. Become as ‘bad ass’ as I can. Explore the world. Make something of myself. Find some likeminded friends and help them do the same. What does anyone want to do with their life?”
He nodded. “Most people’s goals are simple and direct: Make money, become powerful, have friends and family, or gain recognition. The path of their life grows directly from that goal. People who want money become crafters or merchants. People who want power become more martial and domineering. People who want friends and family seek to fit in with others. That sort of thing. But your life doesn’t fit your stated goals.”
He waited only a moment to let his point sink in before continuing to hammer away at it. “You say you want power, but you let your parents direct your progress. You say you want to explore but you have only run away from home once. You say you want peers but you are more comfortable in the presence of adults than fellow children. And yet, despite this, you push forward with a single minded devotion that is both admirable and unusual. So what is it that drives you? How will you remake the world to your own desires?”
I wasn’t sure what to say to all of that. I listened to my parents because they knew more than me, it seemed straightforward to me. The one time I tried running away I got ambushed by what was probably a kidnapper. And, as for not interacting much with other children, I neither had been given much of a chance nor was I certain that I would enjoy it if the others acted their new age (as I was told that was more ‘normal’ for kids). And while I know my somewhat obsessive personality pushes me a bit farther than many people, it really didn’t seem that unusual. Not to me, at least. In fact it was his excitement that seemed ‘out there’ to me. And by ‘out there’ I mean ‘completely bat-shit insane’. Some of the things he was saying. I should probably ask about it. “So: ‘remake the world’? Really?”
His answer was calm and measured, as though he spoke only the most obvious thing in the world. “Yes. Of course. We are humans, the Sapient, the creators and sustainers of our world. Why shouldn’t the world bend to our desires?”
“Uh… Because ‘science’? Testable repeatable evidence of the stability of the world?” I paused, catching myself. “Or, at least, the world before.” It didn’t make sense that the rules of science were just gone, it seemed more like other stuff had been added on somehow.
He nodded. “The Heights of Man respects research, more than any other group. We recognize that the world as a whole is not changed by any one person, as is fitting when you consider how many people live on this world. But every major change, every shift in culture and the greater workings that affect us all, were sparked by the actions of mankind. And every shift in the flow of mankind has been championed and guided by one or more individuals. So again I ask, because it is the very heart of the matter, what do you want out of life and how will you change the world to suit yourself?” He sounded eager and was leaning forward again in expectation.
My Mom was looking away but I could tell from her stiff posture that she was still uncomfortable. She was staying out of it as best she could which, if I were to be honest and remind myself of what could have been, was the main reason I wanted her with me rather than someone like my father. This is literally what I had asked for, so I shouldn’t expect her to bail me out from some difficult questions.
I made a face as I tried to find an answer to his question. I had to admit that he was at least a little right about my goals not matching my actions. I know enough PvP focused gamers to know that they have a driving need to prove themselves and to be recognized for their ability. While I want to be strong and experience as much as possible, I don’t really have that burning need that those others have. And yet, while I do want to experience the world, that isn’t so important as to make me ignore those who care for me and have been around long enough to give me solid advice. What I want is both bigger and more basic than a desire for money, power, or novel experience. And yet it touches on both my curiosity and my dissatisfaction with the world. Trying to pinpoint exactly what it is that drives me is probably a long term goal that I won’t solve right away.
“Think about it for a while.” Soreus said, either interrupting or somehow understanding my thoughts. “You don’t have to answer today, but you will have to find an answer eventually.”
There were a few more seconds of silence before he spoke up again, nodding toward both of us and giving me a smile. “I do believe that this answers most of your questions. I can also see that this talk has given you a lot to think about so why don’t we end this conversation here. I can see you are a bright kid so know that my door is always open for my students. We start a new class every season so this is a bit of a busy time for me, as organization of the new class is well underway. Can I expect to see you taking the intake tests soon?” His last question he spoke facing in my direction but looking over toward my Mother.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
She spoke up in an even tone that seemed designed to give nothing away. “We are considering it.”
“Good, good. Now, unless there is anything else?” He asked with a seemingly expectant tone, though it had been explained to me that it would be seen as impolite to speak up unless the new subject was of obviously more importance than the last. In other words, he was nicely telling us to go away.
“Thank you for your time.” My mother answered flatly, having lost her even tone. She was upset but making an effort not show it. It was likely that the principal wouldn’t even know it but I had angered or annoyed her enough times to know. She quickly pulled me from my seat and held my hand as we went out the door.
She didn’t speak as we walked through the varying corridors but it was clear that she was angry. I waited a bit, hoping that she would speak up, but as we came to the door it was becoming apparent that she wouldn’t do so of her own accord.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
At my words she stopped, looked out around us to see if anyone was paying attention, and then scowled. “That man. When your father and I were considering someone who could answer his name experience was mentioned. Our communications with him made it clear that we were hoping for a broad overview of the various theories on the origin and working of the world, and yet he pushed his own agenda and then rudely sent us away.” She frowned, and by her facial expressions she seemed to be working through some decision, before turning and setting off for a different gate than we had been facing.
“Uh… Where are we going?” I asked.
“If we cannot trust an educator to give a fair accounting of things then we must find better sources through our own effort.”
“Right, but where are we going?”
She led be out through the gate and turned away from our house. “We are going to see Rack. He should be able to give you a different perspective on things. We will see someone else afterwards to get a more full understanding of the understanding people have on the world.”
“Rack?” I asked.
“You know him. He is the crafter who made your knife.”
Right, I had forgotten his name. He was the guy who apparently knew my Mom since before she moved here. The one who called Dad a nerd. I mean, he was, but it was said as though it were an insult rather than a point of pride so that didn’t exactly make me like him all that much. Still, he had answered my questions about the weapons so he wasn’t all that bad. I also remember him intervening in an argument between the transporter and my Mother and how he was able to calm her down, actually calm her rather than having her just frown and turn away, so this seemed like a good detour.
“And how is his explanation going to be any different than the educator’s?”
She nodded, signaling an end to the conversation as she spoke: “You will see.”
From there she led me on toward the far side of town. I was barely able to keep up, due to my size, and I started to understand why she hadn’t wanted to walk the last time when I was smaller. She could have just carried me, but apparently that wasn’t something that people did in this culture. I asked about a few things as we went and stared at a number of sights. Fortunately we passed the food stalls quickly or else the smells, and knowing that I couldn’t partake, would have soured my mood. There were also some animal people but when I asked my Mother about them she just ‘shushed’ me and moved away.
It took some time to reach our destination but that was expected considering the distance. Our arrival was unexpected, if the look on Rack’s face was anything to go by, and he mumbled something about being almost done before turning back to his work. There was nothing else to do so I pushed over a chair and climbed on it to watch what he was doing.
He was molding metal like silly putty, pulling and stretching it exactly like metal normally does not. Reaching over, he used one of those colored crystals on it and I could feel the thing ripple in some intangible way. He then pulled it out and then ran his hand along it, what was starting to look like a metal stick, and it flattened out into an impossibly smooth and flat shape. Was it some sort of a longsword or would he add a bend to it or otherwise change its shape? Whatever its final form would be, he seemed to be finished with the current step and set the whole thing aside.
“Is that how you made all this stuff?” I asked with some amazement.
He nodded, body turned toward me but eyes facing my Mother. “So what brings you here today?”
“William has some questions about the nature of reality and why it works in the way that it does.” She answered neutrally. “I thought it right for him to get an understanding of the various viewpoints from people who hold those views.”
“And you brought him to me?” There was more than a hint of skepticism in his voice, though it was more in the ‘surprised’ vein rather than the ‘snarker’ variety.
She shrugged and repeated herself. “It seemed good to have him speak with someone who follows the Earth and Sky.”
“And I’m the first person you thought of to talk to the kid?” He must have seen some reaction in Thea, though whatever reaction my Mother had was invisible to me, because he gave a similar shrug. All I had seen was her staring at him so I wondered what he had seen. “No? Well, beggars can’t be choosers.” My Mom looked away at that with what might have been embarrassment. Rack pointedly ignored her reaction and turned to me, sitting his chair that he had been in to face the one I had set up near the table.
“So what seems to be your question? And how in the heck did you get so big so fast?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer his question so I decided to be honest. “I don’t know, I just did? It isn’t really important though,” he gave an eye roll at that but didn’t interrupt, “what I want to know is why this world is so ‘Video Game’ like? It just feels weird.”
“Video game, video game, video game?” he spoke, first seeming to test out the word and then stopping in surprise and a bit of confusion on his face. “That’s a thing from your before?” he asked.
I nodded and he got a thoughtful look on his face.
Just as quickly it was gone. “Well I guess the answer would be ‘because’.”
“Because why?” I pressed.
“No why. Just ‘because’.”
I gave him a look that didn’t even cover half of my exasperation at his nothing of an answer.
He took that as a cue to continue after no more than a few seconds of it. “There doesn’t always have to be a ‘why’, sometimes things just are. You can try to figure out all the pieces that make something more or less likely to happen but that doesn’t make the fact of it happening meaningful. A party or outing is interrupted by rain, then you meet someone when you go to get cover; those things may seem meaningful but the only significance is what you give to it. It may be the rainy season makes the interruption more likely, that people are likely to go toward cover where you might meet them, and that people who are alike in some way are more likely to choose the same outcropping or some such. That doesn’t make it fate, only happenstance. Getting to know someone better once you have met them under that outcropping: that is the act of finding something good during the bad and not something orchestrated by the very universe itself.” He seemed to be getting worked up by the end with his suspiciously specific example. My Mom had turned her head away and seemed to be looking toward a weapon on the far wall with a level of focus achievable only by someone who was trying to ignore someone else.
He let out a huff and calmed down. “Right. The easiest way to explain it is to talk about what it is not and let you figure the rest out from there. Granted, I’m not philosopher, but very few Earth people are. So who did you talk to? Heights? Guide? Both?”
I gave him a confused look but my Mother spoke up, still looking away. “We spoke to the major school’s chief adjudicator. He is of the Heights of Man.” She continued her staring contest with some imaginary speck of dust on the wall.
He glanced over in her direction then seemed to decide something as he noticed the still confused look on my face. He shook his head. “From the beginning then. Most people fall into one of three groups determined by their views on life. There are a few other ways, like combining two or acting more against one of these outlooks than for them, but that’s not common enough to matter. At least, people usually claim one of the other groups regardless of their true feeling. It might not be completely honest, but that’s just the way that people are.
“People like the guy you talked to before are known as ‘Heights of Man’, or just ‘Heights’. They believe that people are the most important things in the universe. The more capable you are, the more ‘human’ you are; and the more right you are in whatever ‘virtues’ that make you great. Your parents follow the ‘Guides of Heaven’, or just ‘Guide’. They believe that there is one or more ‘great beings’ that are in charge of everything. They tend to follow the rules of ‘clear silver’ and ‘untarnished gold’ but otherwise are as out there as whatever they worship.”
Wait, what? I decided to interrupt his explanation to make sure I understood what he was saying. “So ‘one or more great beings’? Are you saying that they don’t know?”
My mother decided to speak up, giving up her pretense of ignoring us. “Figuring that sort of thing out is part of the journey. The working of the world and the lessons of history give us clues but it is up to us to follow them.”
I looked towards the craftsman and he just shrugged. “Don’t ask me. From the outside they seem just as fractured a group as any other.”
“And those rules?” I asked.
My Mom answered again. “Following the rule of ‘Clear Silver’ means that your motivations are true, not just your actions.”
“Because people can know their real motivations,” Rack cut in with a cutting tone.
She didn’t pause. “The rule of ‘Untarnished Gold’ means that we treat other people, God, and nature with the respect that they deserve. No more and no less.”
“It’s dumb! They treat enemies with respect and treat important people the same as everyone else!”
She gave him an annoyed look at his interruption. “So now you know Rack’s views on my, and your father’s, beliefs. Perhaps he would like to talk about his own beliefs?” Wait, was she being catty with him? That was seriously out of character. He must really be getting to her.
He shrugged. “There isn’t much to say. The world is how it is so you learn to take the good and the bad. Work with what you’ve got and don’t worry about stuff that you can’t affect or that won’t do anything to you. That’s the basics of Earth and Sky. Call us whatever; some say ‘Earth’, some ‘Sky’, most of us just don’t have time for that argument.”
His words brought me up short. “So that’s it? Then why is this world so ordered, so gamelike?”
“Why not?” He answered. “I never said I was a philosopher, in fact I said I wasn’t. Why does there have to be some grand plan or anything other than dumb luck and the constant, unchanging, turning of the world?”
“There is no reason at all?” I asked, trying to grasp at the way he just didn’t seem to care.
“Does it matter?” he responded. “It won’t put a roof over your head, food in your belly, cash in your pocket, or better your skills and abilities. What matters are the goals you work toward and the limitations you live under. Nothing else.”
“That’s…” I started, trying to figure out what to say.
“That’s Earth and Sky. Simple, straightforward, direct. We don’t put on airs like the Heights or grasp for the immaterial like the Guide, we just live life as it is.”
I looked at him than looked to my Mother for confirmation, which she readily gave in the form of a nod. It took me a few more seconds to voice my concerns. “That just seems so meaningless.”
He shrugged. “It can seem that way if you are used to some outside goal being forced on you. I prefer to think of it as freedom. You make your own meaning. I’m a builder, a creator, a craftsman and a maker; I make things that will be useful for a time and work toward everything in my life becoming more solid as time goes on. Over time my meaning will grow; perhaps I will make things, both items and friendships, that will last as a Legend. Or perhaps I may become like so many others who find their meaning in pleasure, orgies, and chaos. Regardless, the world will go on as it always has. Neither you nor I can stop it, so it is better that we just find a comfortable place on the wheel as it turns.”
I thought about his words as he spoke. If I were being honest I would have to admit that I had lived my past life like a follower of Earth and Sky. Every day I dealt with what was directly in front of me and my only exposure to deeper things were some required courses at school and various entertainment media. My concept of a soul was less ‘Descartes’ and more ‘Ghost in the Shell’ while my understanding of destiny was almost entirely within the realm of things like ‘Sailor Moon’ and playing the ‘chosen one’ in various video games. Even my concepts of equality and honor were learned by studying the issues of game balance for equality and, respectively, the honor of Shonen protagonists. I’m not sure I could call myself a ‘proper otaku’ (as I lacked the body pillows of anime girls, crippling fear of the sun, and lack of contact with the wider world that was stereotypically associated with that group), rather I just liked it better than the ‘real world’.
And that was the problem I had always had with life before: reality just didn’t match up with my hopes and expectations. My experience had shown me that hard work would always loose out to luck and money. The people with rich and powerful backgrounds were just better off than everyone else. And as for talent, falling in with the right people, and being in the right place in the right time; that all came down to little more than luck. Yet, for whatever issues it may have had, video games were still more fair than everything else. Sure in video games, having a better computer and internet was as important as skill and a limiting factor to playing professionally that could not be overcome. And of course talent and random opportunity were major hurtles to success. But at least in video games hard work is rewarded and your starting point doesn’t limit how far you can go. Those games where you can just buy success died when the general player base gets fed up with it and when the whales see they have no competition other than fellow whales. Even experience isn’t a limiting factor, because when a game is designed so that the veterans are untouchable you can be sure that the game will die a slow death as potential new players give up on it and older player eventually drift away due to the realities of life.
Games are just better than ‘real life’. And, since I’ve been born into this game-like world, it seems the perfect opportunity to get rid of my old jaded view and try for something better.
Perhaps it is just a bit of self-delusion: I want to believe that this world is the same as a well designed game, one where I can make a difference in the world and where everything isn’t static to the point of stagnation. As much as I lived that way before, I don’t want to walk that path again. Perhaps it came from looking back on my life before I died or coming back after my end, I just wanted more from this life than my old one. No, I needed more from this life than my old one. I wasn’t going to waste my chance in a world built like a video game.
And that was why I listened to Rack talk and then changed the subject to ask him about his crafting. He seemed to relax as he focused on his area of expertise and explained how everything worked. Crafting wasn’t something I was super interested in but I was curious and it got him to stop trying to convince me that nothing I did could possibly matter due to how big and old this world of Paradise was. He had a few more questions, trying to get me to pin down a direction for my life, but I mostly just waved them off and distracted him with his life’s work.
Crafting seemed to come down to two skills, one which let you shape the object and the other that let you ‘enchant’ it by controlling how adding energy crystals would affect it. Also, there were way more than just four types of energy crystals. The basic four were elementally aligned but there were others that were aligned with plants and animals and cities. The last one surprised me but Rack admitted to not using them much because it had to do with programming certain behaviors into things and that wasn’t something he needed for most weapons. The animal ones could make the items move more easily or gave it stability while the plant ones helped to make it tougher and could add other exotic effects. Mostly, though, Rack worked with the basic elemental crystals because that was what he could sell the most of. At least, that was as much as I got out of his rambling. I wasn’t paying perfect attention due to my aforementioned lack of interest in crafting.
We left not long after and started walking back across town. I looked at all the sights while my Mother remained her usual stoic self. After a while I decided that if I wanted to know more about what was between them I would have to ask, since she wouldn’t volunteer that sort of thing. “So… what is it between you and Rack?”
“I and he knew one another before I met your father and before I accepted the way of the Guide.” She replied.
I waited a few seconds for her to continue. Then gave a ‘continue on’ hand motion and sound to get my point across after half a minute had gone by. A minute later, or likely it only felt like a minute, I decided to speak up. “Can you tell me more about that?”
She scowled but didn’t refuse. “When I met your father I thought he was a dreamer, a vagabond, and tediously pedantic.” I nodded at her explanation, accurate as it was. “He and I worked together on several occasions, or at least in proximity, as I had skills that were useful to certain employers and those powerful people viewed him as one of their own. He was little more than a curiosity to me, at least at first, and I was the same to him. Then he became an annoyance when he decided to court me.” She nodded her head. “It was not his best showing.”
I remembered the story as told by my Father. Mother had tried to get rid of him by saying that she wouldn’t date anyone weaker than her and that he would have to best her in battle before she would consider him. This, despite the fact that my Mom is a focused PvP fighter (she fights people for a living) and my Father is a researcher (he fights spreadsheets of paperwork). My father described his winning match as a not-so-grand battle where he laid a dozen obvious traps that were easily sidestepped and then randomly got lucky when a passing creature came along and did most of the work for him. He had ‘valiantly’ offered to have the battle not count, but had conspiratorially explained that he knew my Mother would still count it as a loss because interruptions during that sort of battle were seen as little more than a field hazard.
“After the first dozen fights I had expected him to finally give up. After the third dozen I was tired of the meaningless attempts. By the fifth dozen I began to be curious how long he would continue. When his attempts reached the triple digits I decided to see what would happen if I allowed him his attempt.”
Wait, wait. The numbers weren’t adding up so I decided to bring it up. “I thought that Dad beat you on his 97th attempt. If he had reached the triple digits then he would have had to have tried over a hundred times.”
She smiled with one of her rare true smiles, one that calmed the angles of her face and reached her eyes, shoulders, and her entire posture. “My Husband, the scientist, miscounted. My work as a bounty hunter brought with it certain interruptions in the form of criminals who believed that intruding into our duel would give them an advantage. It did not, and those persons were easily dispatched. In fact I used the duels on more then one occasion to lure out my targets, as your Father’s contribution to the fight would have been effectively nothing. Still, he claimed that these did not count and fled to avoid being caught in the crossfire.”
Oof. That’s harsh, Dad. I knew that Mom could take you in a fight but I didn’t expect it to be quite that uneven.
“This is not the point of that story. At least, not the point that is relevant to this discussion. The important element is that my connection to him allowed me certain leeway to speak with people I would not otherwise have had free access to, thus allowing me to learn more about their different understanding of the world. People assumed that I was talking about Edmond and did not bother me further.”
She gave a look back, vaguely in the direction of the shop, and continued with a firmer tone. “Most people take the philosophy common in the place where they are born and it usually fits them well. Our present city is at a crossroads and is somewhat unusual in its intermingling. But while some strains of the Guides of Heaven are less open, they are the only one of the Great Three Factions that even pays lip service to one’s freedom to choose differently. For the others there is no choice. The Heights value you only in relation to your ability to imprint your will on the world or your connection to those who can and the Sky followers expect you to fit into your allotted place in the world and to not stray without great reason. Believing that there is more to the world than our present circumstances was not enough reason. Marrying your father, a man outside my place in society, was not enough reason. Rack was my friend, my brother in all but blood, but he still holds my betrayal of our ideals against me.”
Hu. That was a lot to unpack. So this world apparently has faction specific starting zones. You can change your alignment but it isn’t easy and you apparently turn your old faction against you if you switch or, at least, those from your old faction that knew you. But she also said that the area’s philosophy usually fits the people born there. That really proves nothing, though. It might be peer pressure or indoctrination, but that would be harder to force on a random selection of people with an entire lifetime of experience to draw from. No, it is more likely that people are sorted before they are born. Of course that also says nothing, since all three ‘Great Factions’ have an explanation for why it happens. Heights believe it is because people personally choose, Sky says that we go where we fit, while Guide probably chalks it down to the choice of some RoB.
I’m still a bit upset about that: the lack of a decent RoB or the other normal introductory elements I would have expected, by the way. I got sent to a new world without a great prophesy, a cheat, or even the customary visit from Truck-San! No random faceless humanoid of light gave me vaguely evil pronunciations of ‘goodness’, nor did I see an angelic beauty in a cute dress or flowing gown to welcome me! I didn’t even see a floating orb of light begging me to stop the great evil! Isikai manga lied to me!
Er, yeah… Note to Self: Stop getting distracted.
No, the other issue was the stuff that Mom had referred to about different ‘strains’ of the factions. Apparently, while there were similarities, there were a lot of differences too. But then the differences were less weird to me than the fact that there were three distinct groups. Why not two, or four, or dozens, or anything other than three very distinct groups made up of people who didn’t always agree? We had been talking mostly about the similarities within the groups but how universal were those? Too many questions, not enough time to ask them. I should probably try starting at the beginning.
“So why are there three Major Factions?” I asked.
“There just are.” She unhelpfully answered.
“How do you know?” I pressed.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “It is right there if you go down far enough on your character sheet.”
I stopped walking as I processed what she had said. She spoke the magic words and hadn’t even realized it. My eyes opened in excitement and I could feel the smile growing on my face. She stopped and looked at me with a complicated face, half amusement and half exasperation. I should be quick before it turns to full exasperation.
“Mom, can you…”
“No.”
“…character sheet...” I attempted. I think I can be proud of the fact that I didn’t fully deflate from her quick refusal. At least, I can try telling myself that. This whole ‘one thing at a time’ thing was stupid. They seemed to think that if I knew more I would try to blow stuff up with my mind when I would be better suited to be a healer, or something equally ridiculous. Though, to be fair, blowing stuff up is cool and being a heal-bot seems boring. But… I really want to know!!! I know that she is right and big explosions would be great, but explosions!!! Boo. Stupid four year old body with a four year old’s emotions that can’t do delayed gratification or an intelligent response when faced with something as awesome as giant explosions.
Mom must have noticed my sudden funk because she tried to cheer me up in her own way. “You will learn eventually, you are actually far closer to the skill than you think. You just have some growing to do.”
This very much did not cheer me up. I was so extremely tired of being a kid. Couldn’t I just grow up already?!?
She just shook her head at my frown and tried to change the subject. “Follow me. There is one more person that we are going to go see. He is a priest at the temple and should be able to answer your questions far more completely than myself.”