*Courtesy of Malaam-Heldulk, master of arts.*

*Notes from the lecture, “Shaping and Techne of the Material” by Ed*

“In the creation of a statue, it is not mere shape that gives birth to art, but the very essence of the artist’s soul. Behold the buramyte before you—its jagged edges catching light, its angles a dance of shadow and illumination.

As you cradle it in your palms, feel its weight, the sharp whisper of its edges against your skin. Yet, the final step, the true mastery, lies in grasping it with your mind’s eye. Envision its dimensions unfurling, the temporal ballet of chisel meeting stone, the gradual emergence of angles and shapes from formless matter.

These are the alchemical steps through which one imposes will upon the will, elevating the lesser to transcendence.

Let us distill these concepts once more, that they may crystallize in your understanding:

1. Our basic senses provide the raw data, the fertile soil from which all junior artisans must grow.

2. Layer upon layer, we add sensory perceptions, building a taller order of understanding in each step.

3. At last, we reach our own pinnacle: “internalization”.

Internalization bifurcates into twin paths: “materialization” and “conceptualization”.

Materialization, by its nature, labors under constraints. Who among you can elucidate why?

“Ah, Apprentice Lien-Talaq, pray, lend your voice to our guest student…”

[A student answers, I was not able to record]

“Indeed, a response worthy of commendation. Materialization bows to the immutable laws of material science. One cannot cajole the supple into rigidity, nor coax the brittle into flexibility. Heed this well—it is not an inviolable edict, Grandmaster’s can defy and play with laws seeming most non-transgressible, but a guiding principle. As apprentices, you would do well to accord these suggestions the gravity they merit.”

“Now, ponder this: what calamity befalls us when our grasp of material science falters?”

[Another student, indistinguishable]

“Precisely. The subsequent phase, conceptualization, becomes a house built on sand. It crumbles, incomplete and wounded. Your tether to art, the very essence of your craft, threatens to unravel, an injured beast panting without focus. Disorientation, incoherence, an inability to discern the path forward—these are the harbingers of such failure. For our next endeavor, each of you shall select a piece of buramyte. We shall apply the tenets of material science, but I implore you—limit yourselves to the first three basic senses. Mastery of the remaining senses shall be your crucible for the semester to come. You are dismissed."

…

The celebrations had been ongoing for six days, and it had been five days since they left the Velvet Room. The promise of meeting an elder—the highest rank for arts in Anthropos society—hung in the air, but with no exact date given, the group found themselves immersed in the festivities.

Wandering through the alien landscape, they explored representatives of the 42 villages and two column cities. These settlements were separated into seven zones based on the needs of the Anthropos. Each village, zone and settlement brought their own, new wonders, artworks, inventions, decorative and practical devices, animals for different purposes, textiles and aromatic plants, and strange delicacies to sample.

At one of the counters, they encountered a glistening blue, diamond-sliced berry about two centimeters thick, served on a leaf. Its smooth, taut membrane was covered with veins that shifted in color from ice-blue to dark purple, as if circulating fruit juice flowed within them. At the fruit’s apex, veins merged and turn into thorn-like, stiff protrusion emanated a frosty whiteness. The berry was sectioned into six pieces, reminiscent of a multisectioned designed, making it easy to separate and share. Six of these fruits could fit comfortably in one’s palm. The vibrant green leaf beneath had no stem; instead, the fruit perched atop it like a lotus flower on its pad. The grandmaster who cultivated these marvels stood ready to explain the proper way to consume them.

“You see,” he gestured enthusiastically, “the upper part of the fruit has a thorn. It must be pressed into your palate before eating. But I’m unsure if your… er, anatomy allows for this traditional method.”

Evelynn, ever the daredevil, stepped forward. “Watch and learn, big guy,” she smirked, opening her mouth wide and demonstrating the human capacity for consumption.

The grandmaster’s eyes widened—or at least, that’s how the humans interpreted his reaction. “Fascinating! Such cavernous oral apertures you possess!”

Abdullah cringed at the remark but held his tongue. “It is… an attribute we do not often consider noteworthy,” he said diplomatically.

Evelynn moaned softly and got attention of those around her.

“It…is…oh…take me by the hand…fucking MAGICAL!!?” She shouted while couldn’t keep standing up and let herself fall to ground. Ed and Abdullah nudged her but she made a rude gesture.

“Freakish woman.” Abdullah was not impressed,

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“Could you share more about the your wonderful fruit with me? I would very much like to try it but before I want to know more about it. You know, making sure, that I can appreciate it fully…” Ed asked to Grandmaster.

He gestured her to come and look the stand which had blue fruits, rest stood there, Erlik trying to help Evelynn get up. Evelynn finally was able to stand up after five minutes.

“Wow, I never had such a pleasant drug. That was orgasmic. Wow, the high.” She kept mumbling, getting weird looks from Abdullah and Erlik.

As Ed became engrossed in a detailed discussion about fruit cultivation with the grandmaster, the others decided to explore further. They came across a stall displaying intricate carvings, totems, and charms made from wood, stone, glass and other materials they couldn’t recognize.

Erlik’s usually calm eyes lit up with recognition. “These… they speak to me of home,” he murmured, his fingers tracing the contours of a small idol. “Images… they return like mist clearing from a mountain peak.”

Abdullah raised an eyebrow. “You mean to say your memories are returning? Or is this merely another instance of your… unique way with words?”

Erlik shook his head, lost in thought. “What could be if not spirits of my ancestors whisper through these forms. I must… commune with them.”

Evelynn rolled her eyes. “Great. You do that, Mister Mystical. Me and the professor here are gonna check out the shiny stuff over there.” She jerked her thumb towards a counter displaying glasswork.

As they approached the glassworks, Evelynn’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Hey, Apo,” she grinned, using the nickname that never failed to irk Abdullah. “Wanna play a game?”

Abdullah sighed heavily. “What manner of juvenile pursuit do you propose now, wench?”

“Come on, don’t be such a stick in the mud,” Evelynn prodded. “Look, we’re like, what, 1500 years apart in Earth time, right? Let’s go through these glass doohickeys and guess what they’re for. Bet you’ll be just as clueless as me!”

Abdullah’s eyes narrowed. “Your arithmetic is as flawed as your manners. Nevertheless, I shall humor your ignorance. In my time, the art of glassblowing was highly advanced. Persian artisans created intricate works that were coveted the world over.”

“Good grief,” Evelynn groaned. “Can you go five minutes without a history lesson?”

Their bickering was interrupted by the approach of the grandmaster responsible for the glassworks. With a gesture both elegant and alien, he offered them two wing-shaped charms without saying a word prior.

Abdullah bowed deeply as he accepted the gift. Evelynn reached out casually, but as soon as her fingers touched the glass, she shivered involuntarily. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever experienced—soft yet hard, smooth to the eye but textured to the touch.

“What the—” Evelynn gasped, her hand jerking back reflexively. The charm slipped from her grasp, plummeting towards the ground.

Abdullah, still lost in the mesmerizing properties of his own charm, was startled by a melodious chime. He opened his eyes to see Evelynn, flushed and flustered, staring at the grandmaster with a mixture of panic and embarrassment.

“I… uh… sorry about that,” Evelynn stammered, her usual bravado deserting her. “Didn’t mean to… you know…”

The grandmaster’s form seemed to blur before their eyes. Slowly, he opened his palm, revealing the intact glass figure that Evelynn had dropped.

“Be at ease, dear guest,” the grandmaster’s voice resonated with warmth. “You have no reason to be… anxious.”

Evelynn muttered a quick thanks and retreated, her head bowed in an uncharacteristic display of humility.

The grandmaster turned to Abdullah. “The game your companion proposed—would you care to play with me in her stead?”

A genuine smile crossed Abdullah’s face. “It would be my pleasure,” he replied, relieved to engage in a more civilized exchange.

As Abdullah and the grandmaster began their game of cultural comparison and material analysis, the alien celebration continued to swirl around them in a kaleidoscope of sights, sounds, and sensations. The four humans, each grappling with their own reactions to this strange new world, found themselves inexorably drawn to the peaceful and novel life that surrounded them.

Evelynn, leaning against a nearby pillar, watched the festivities with a mixture of cynicism and wonder.

“No jobs, no money, no landlords breathing down your neck,” she muttered to herself. “Almost enough to make a girl forget she’s stuck in some freaky alien utopia.”

Ed, having concluded her talk with the cultivator, still scribbling notes nearby, overheard Evelynn’s comment.

“Fascinating observation,” she said, her eyes never leaving her notebook.

“The absence of… of conventional societal pressures appears to be affecting our psychological states. I wonder if… if this could be quantified somehow.”

Erlik, who had rejoined the group after “communing” with the wooden artifacts, nodded sagely.

“In my land, we had a saying: ‘The bird does not sing because it has an answer; it sings because it has a song.’ Perhaps we, too, are learning to sing in this new world.”

Abdullah, already distracted from his game with the grandmaster, couldn’t help but interject.

“It is curious, is it not? How readily we adapt to this alien society. One might posit that our experiences in the Velvet Room have prepared us for such… extraordinary circumstances.”

The mention of the Velvet Room cast a momentary shadow over the group. Each of them recalled the anxiety, the introversion, even the depression that had gripped them upon their arrival in this world. Yet now, those feelings seemed distant, muted by their new roles as observers and participants in this strange society.

“Yeah, well,” Evelynn said, breaking the contemplative silence, “beats moping around and feeling sorry for ourselves, doesn’t it? At least here, we get to poke at weird fruit and play guessing games with glass doodads.”

Ed nodded, a rare smile crossing her face. “Indeed. The opportunity to study such an advanced civilization… it’s unprecedented. The anthropological implications alone are… are staggering and I have so much to document…”

“And yet,” Erlik mused, his eyes distant, “we must not forget that we are but leaves in a great wind. Our path here may have purpose beyond our understanding.”

Evelynn sniffed the air, “There must be some wisdom leakage somewhere, can you smell it?”

Abdullah, returning his attention to the game with the grandmaster, added, “True wisdom lies in recognizing both our ignorance and our potential for enlightenment. Perhaps this… cultural immersion is preparing us for revelations yet to come.”

As they spoke, the promised meeting with the elder loomed on the horizon, holding the tantalizing promise of answers—and undoubtedly, even more questions. Yet, curiously, none of them found themselves complaining about the current state of affairs. Whether due to the lingering effects of the Velvet Room or simply the intoxicating novelty of their surroundings, they had each found a measure of peace in their roles as observers and participants in this alien world.

The grandmaster, who had been quietly listening to their exchange, spoke up. “Your perspectives are as diverse as they are illuminating,” he said, his alien features somehow conveying warmth. “Perhaps, in seeking to understand our world, you may come to better understand yourselves and each other.”

With those words hanging in the air, the group dispersed once more into the ongoing celebrations, each pondering their place in this strange new universe and the journey that had brought them here. The mysteries of the Anthropos society beckoned, promising not just answers, but perhaps a new way of seeing themselves and the very nature of existence itself.