Tell Me About You

I found the girl I was looking for.

Beatrix Hecate.

"Hey you—why didn't you warn me there were monsters like that in our family?"

"I don't have monsters in my family. I only have me."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"…"

"Be grateful he never got to use his Umwelt. Or worse—manifested his guardian."

"What, these bastards can summon circles?"

"No. Our race—the chaos cultivators—can't use magic. We can only grow through chaos."

"Interesting. Can we sense magic?"

"No. So don't run into any heretics. They'd do a number on you. Or hey—maybe they'd just experiment on you to see if there are signs of intelligence."

She said that last part with a wry smile.

"Heretics?" I questioned.

"Those who use chaos magick. They disconnected their human ego from the collective consciousness. They're something else entirely. Banned from stepping foot in our world, though. Last I heard, they exist in the darkest corners of Dasein."

"What's Dasein?"

"Doesn't matter. It's... the experience of the cosmos."

"The experience of, and not the cosmos?"

"Shouldn't say. It'd be a lot to take in for a kid. Or an adult."

"Aren't you a kid too?"

"I'm eleven. So I'm quite mature."

She said it like it was a matter of fact.

"Wait—you completed your second trial?"

"Naturally."

"How was it?"

"Nothing much. It's all meaningless."

"Why do you say that?"

"The first trial is like getting hooked on drugs. The second's like moderating them. You spend years tortured by the hunger for chaos."

"What is chaos?"

"Raw potential."

"Its seed sprouts from the Tree of Life."

"Could I see the Tree?"

"Well... it isn't there anymore."

"Huh? Then why should I believe you? I bet you still believe in Santa."

"Saint Nicholas is real. He just isn't granted permission to step on mortal grounds. He's more... spirit-bound."

"Shut up."

"Hey, don't make fun of me!"

She pouted. I was having fun, honestly.

"Well, where was the so-called Tree of Life?"

"I can take you. It's in the grounds of House Miray."

"Yeah. Do that."

"But not now. We should still chat. I get the intuition we should talk."

"Attached to me already? I don't blame you at all."

I beamed with pride.

"Well then... hmm. What's up with this strange fruit?"

"The Verdant Nectare? They seriously didn't tell you?"

"Who's they?"

"The Head Butler is the only servant qualified. But you still have a mother with a name, so—her too."

Why didn't they tell me?

"The Verdant Nectare is the fruit that lets you realize potential. It grows in you. You need to be asleep while awake. It takes you to your Dynamism Elysium, where you realize chaos through:

– Meditation (if you're absorbing an experience)

– Ritual (if you want to ascend the caste)

– Prayer (if you wish to wield existential violence)"

"I have no one to pray to anymore."

"Anymore?" Her eyes lit with surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I'm anti-religion. But I had a friend. I don't remember them. Or when I knew them. I used to pray to them."

"Interesting. But God does exist."

"Yeah, of course a deluded brat like you would believe that."

"Deluded? You're five. How could you have a friend?"

"Good point. Fair play."

I didn't want to agitate her too much. I needed her intel.

"Anyway—you can't get naturally stronger right now. You'll have to wait to enter Historia at ten."

"Why ten?"

"Because you're prepared. Historia's not our land. The Sage of Memory owns it."

"What's a Sage?"

"The known apex of chaos cultivation. The rulers of society. The strongest among us."

"What are the ranks, then?"

"You have the Unformed, those with a craving but no Umwelt. They can only go to their Elysiums, cultivate trials, or wait for chance encounters. Life's a gamble for them."

"If I may," I said, "life is a gamble anyway.

You wash up on a beach of existence you never asked to be thrown on, born from instincts you never asked to have, under a system with no known intelligence, so you can't even hold it in contempt for its cruelty."

"Whether you live like a rat or die like a fly, whether in this ocean you're eaten by a shark who's devoured by an orca—it's all gambling."

"Free will is just choosing which predetermined path to follow."

"Life is a scam. Much like a gamble in a casino."

"…"

"What's a casino?"

"I don't know. It sounded fitting."

"Anyway," she said, pretending not to be rattled, "next you have Shapers. They introduce order to chaos. They've got awareness—so at least they aren't ignorant."

"You speak like you're not in that tier, Beato."

"Beato?" she blinked.

"A nickname. It fits."

"In the mind of God, there's a sufficient reason for everything, I suppose."

"Next: Makers. They can build structures, entities, phenomena—for a limited time. Every one of our siblings is minimum a Maker."

"Are you?"

"I'm not spoiling that."

"Also—you said our siblings, not my siblings. That contradiction confused me."

"Convenience."

"Yeah, you'll have to tell me about that convenience sometime."

"Yeah, whatever. Back to the good stuff."

"Weavers can blend chaos into semi-permanent structures. There's more to them—but that wouldn't be relevant right now."

"Aren't you just being lazy? Like a cat. Nyan?"

"No—it's meow. And I'm not being lazy. I'm being efficient."

"Wow. Your lexicon is filled with terms to avoid responsibility."

"Next up: Paragons. There may be a couple among us. They're monsters. Rare. But this House is experimental—so anything can happen."

"One confirmed Paragon though—your father. The strongest in House Miray."

My father.

Haven't heard much about that deadbeat.

"Last: the Eternal Conductors. The Sages of Chaos. Only six across history. I don't know how many still live."

"They're unseen. Their methods are unknowable.

Monsters are objects of imagination—but the unknown escapes it.

Never forget that, Thales."

"So—can we go see the spot where this super important tree was?"

"Oh, right. Yeah. Let's go."

She grabbed my hand.

And we walked through purgatory together.