As ever, it was only with hindsight that evident truths revealed themselves, and this couldn't have been more true than when talking about how lucky I was to have been born as a fairy.
Omitting being born as an Origin Essence Entity and forming [Guided], it really came down to the age-related pros and cons of having been born as a fairy instead of, for example...
A Human, in which case my teeth would hardly have grown, and I would have to worry about my permanent dentition that would still be coming later, whereas for fairies, our teeth simply grew and degraded to match available space and usage intensity.
Learning about that fundamental difference, one that was, objectively, so much better for both the fairy species and my circumstances in particular, as I couldn't imagine living with a dysfunctional mouth, eventually sent me down an astounding spiral of books touching on early species differentiations.
I could have been born a Veskin, biologically blind, a rigid chitinous exoskeleton my sole protection against the outside world.
I could have been born an Erran, famous for their rough, unbending, and impenetrable skin, but whose body at birth and for more than a year following it simply didn't have the strength required to bend a finger.
I could have been born an Astrai, just one amongst a clutch of hundreds...
I could have been a Mavren, my metabolism demanding I sleep twelve hours out of sixteen every day lest my body develop abnormally.
I could have been a Draethi, born with the mind of a wild beast, aggressive towards even my parents.
I could have been born as a non-humanoid...
But of course, where I saw shortcomings and disadvantages, others saw perks and advantages; it was all a matter of comparison and perspectives.
Guardian Aigenion, as an Aken, ostensibly belonged to a species that enjoyed absurd physical capabilities, possessing simultaneously greater senses and more durable, more powerful, and more efficient bodies than many other species of equivalent size.
The only way to completely outclass them without Essence being involved was to enter the territory of either the titan species or shift to another baseline biology.
All to say...
I was happy to have been born a fairy.
I was small, light, didn't need much to sustain myself, had a couple of centuries of natural lifespan, had an Essence externalization that allowed me to fly with minimal strain, formed an amazing Origin Aspect, and only had to worry about suddenly becoming pregnant out of nowhere like my mother once I became sexually mature.
Aspect Advanced: [Insight] (Tier 1) ➞ [Insight] (Tier 2)
With a feeling akin to taking a deep breath after a mixed embryonic [Cycle] breathing self-asphyxiation [Tempering] session, the Aspect most relied upon by my anti-overdevelopment [Exertion] routine finally finished shifting my Essence about and advanced.
I took a moment to appreciate the peculiar increase in understanding it brought with it, then [Focus]ed back on "A Sylvae Compendium", a book extensively discussing the Sylvae, a plantoid species reliant on humid environments to grow hundreds upon hundreds of vine-like appendages.
Another step taken.
Another month's worth of worsening of my early Essence overdevelopment disorder.
I was walking the edge.
◇ ◈ ◈ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◈ ◈ ◇
"...heard about it? The headquarters of the Desert Brotherhood was sacked, and they voluntarily gave up their five percent share..."
"...the Whisper Hall's higher ups have gone into hiding after the Black Rust found they were the ones who sold them out..."
"...I heard even the Nexus Order involved themselves..."
Everywhere I went, the Red Sand Realm expedition was the only topic on everyone's lips, and considering the official departure time was only hours away, I completely understood why.
Hours away meant the forces of the Faith were already ready for their imminent departure, leaving but the absolute last checks to be realized.
And indifferent I might be, it was only in regard to the expedition itself, not the people who took part in it.
Hence, I found myself sitting with my legs dangling over the best ledge I found atop the Prime Temple itself, a massive book to pass the time right next to me, taking in the sight of an organized force preparing itself.
If I had to make an estimate, differentiating those fleeting through the ranks who were only there to assist the logistics and those who were truly part of the expedition force, I would say the Faith had organized a force of around four hundred people to be sent on this expedition.
Four hundred people in exchange for twenty percent of the final harvest.
"Wait, no..." I mumbled, realizing it wasn't just four hundred individuals the Faith was sending, it was also all the gear and supplies they were bringing with them.
The armor.
The weapons.
The paste boxes.
The medical supplies.
The sandstriders—wheelless carriage designed to best transport things in a sandy desert environment.
Logistics.
By definition, the detailed organization and implementation of a complex operation.
A Seeker field I really wasn't enthused about studying anytime soon if I could get away with it.
One day, I would get to read more about what the primer introduced to me as "the systematic coordination, allocation, and optimization of resources, personnel, transport, and information flows to ensure the efficient planning, execution, and sustainment of complex, multi-variable operations across constrained environments".
Just not today.
Not tomorrow either, for that matter.
I guessed I would do that within the next decade, though.
Eventually.
I wouldn't mind getting started on it today if I successfully synthesized my [Insight] Aspect into the [Comprehension] Aspect, though.
Hours later, following a final flurry of activities I couldn't possibly know why they happened, the Faith's expedition forces at last departed, their backpacks bulging, their strides synchronized, their spirit at its highest.
I wondered how long each of these three elements would last against the relentless scorching wind and sand-scoured landscape of the Red Sand Realm...
I entertained the idea of following them to witness their passage through the rift, but ultimately decided against it for a bunch of reasons that could be abstracted as this opportunity not being anything unique.
Plenty of people on all floors passed through the rift and back every day, so I wasn't overly curious about it.
For some reason, contemplating following them brought about the notion of taking part in a hypothetical rescue operation.
If the Faith's expedition force was to be stranded for one reason or another, be it a lack of supply, persistent environmental impediments such as sandstorms, or being chased by a powerhouse-class entity like an old sand elemental, by Sentinel protocol, they had to send their fastest runners or flyers ahead to request help.
Would I take part if that happened?
I meditated on that long enough for the Faith's expedition force to fully vanish from my [Perception], and my answer ended up being the same from the beginning to the end.
I wouldn't.
Not unless a prize I couldn't possibly be offered was put on the table.
So no, I wouldn't.
Others may call it selfishness, but if they really dared to say that, I would throw my one year of age at their face and see how far they were willing to stretch their ethical bottom line to win an unwinnable argument.
That would be a funny interaction, now that I thought about it...
◇ ◈ ◈ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◈ ◈ ◇
Four hundred people less, four hundred people more, over the weeks following the Faith's expedition force departure, I noticed no significant change to life in the Prime Temple.
That's how insignificant four hundred people were to an organization whose branch headquarters hosted close to five thousand people within its metallic confines.
Five thousand people.
Five thousand individuals.
Each their own Essence Entity.
Each with their own stories, their personal ambitions, their own Paths...
Each just as insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
I wasn't an exception.
Such was just one of dozens of mindsets I was required to make mine if I ever sought to successfully synthesize my [Darkness] Aspect into the [Secrecy] Aspect.
As for the other ones...
Information is a currency, but its value lies in its control, not its existence.
What is unseen shapes more than what is witnessed.
Silence is not absence, but deliberate omission.
Presence invites scrutiny; absence invites speculation.
[Secrecy] is a shield no blade can pierce...
I believed I was getting there.
Some mindsets had been harder to grasp and integrate into my [Exertion] routine, naturally, but none had proved to be impervious to the fundamental truth of [Exertion] so far.
And whenever combining mindset with actions became too complex as I favored one side or another too much, I happily relied on [Guided] to steer and adjust my motions while I agonized over the warped perspective I was supposed to have while making them.
Some parts of this synthesis training honestly made so little sense that I hesitated to visit the Fairy House to ask Stavros about them, but I restrained myself.
[Secrecy] demanded I keep as much of my person, existence, and Path to my sole [Awareness], after all.
Really, no high order Aspect was easily attainable, whether it concerned seemingly simple, well-researched synthesis like for the [Awareness] or [Comprehension] Aspects, or arduous synthesis for the likes of the [Cultivation] or [Truth] Aspects.
None could be achieved without extreme dedication and a crazy amount of [Exertion]s.
It wasn't without reason, though.
Fundamental Aspects could only encompass so many realistic, nearly tangible facets of reality through their core concepts, after all.
Words like [Perception] and [Awareness] barely succeeded in capturing the intrinsic difference between the two concepts these two Aspects embodied.
One related to the [Perception] of the world through one's own senses.
The other took this [Perception] and transformed it into a continuous [Awareness] of one's surroundings that even the absence of those same senses couldn't fully block.
The former was based on something one could comprehend.
The latter departed from what could realistically be explained with words, and could only truly be experienced.
The [Will] Aspect sat on the edges of this underlying barrier that existed between fundamental and high order Aspects.
Every living being had a [Will], but no [Will] could bend the world to one's favor...
Until one formed the [Will] Aspect.
The further one pushed beyond the fundamental Aspect barrier, the more intangible and ungraspable the concepts that could be embodied by Aspects became.
[Truth].
[Cultivation].
[Interrogation].
Accordingly, while I could satisfy myself with the [Darkness] Aspect, lurking through shadows, quieting my steps, holding my breath, embracing the absence of light, advancing it to legendary Tiers such that it naturally, somehow, somewhat, one way or another, for some reason, stopped being about the [Darkness] concept it initially encompassed...
Why shouldn't I strive for higher order Aspects whose Tier 0 effectiveness surpassed that of higher Tiered fundamental Aspects?
What's more, when this act of striving for higher order Aspects had the convenient consequences of partially reflecting on the advancement of the concerned fundamental Aspects?
So, it may be harder, it may be stranger, it may be twisted, but I had no logical reason not to put in the [Exertion]s required to synthesize those higher order Aspects.
Sometimes Essence wasn't about logic and mathematics, sometimes it was entirely about logic and mathematics.
That was one such case.
Thus, I pursued my [Exertion] of skulking through the [Darkness], [Guided] by my prior experiences to avoid repeating my past mistakes, all while treating everything as insignificant and meaningless, my existence even more so.
And demonstrating my insignificance in this world, no one noticed me.
One corridor after another, soundless, unseen, like my existence was veiled by something, I immersed myself wholeheartedly in this inexorable pursuit of a concept that could hardly be described with words.
[Secrecy].
◇ ◈ ◈ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◈ ◈ ◇
"You have eight hours! You may begin!" Archivist Trius's shout echoed through the examination hall, announcing the beginning of the healer qualification examination, and for the third time, I flipped over an examination paper that I already knew wouldn't be an issue for me.
If it had been during the last healer qualification examination date, maybe I would have made some mistakes, but with four additional months under my belt since then, it wasn't a question anymore.
I was still far from the likes of Archivist Trius in terms of healing knowledge, but earning the healer qualification wasn't about equaling a veteran healer; it was about approximately knowing how to react to every situation imaginable.
That was, literally, all the healer qualification examination was created to ensure.
Any species.
Any injuries.
That was it.
And the first of two thousand forty-eight questions made to ascertain my ability to do so perfectly reflected that.
What happens if an Erran stone-veined skin fractures under heavy impact?
With only eight hours to answer two thousand forty-eight questions, however, there inconveniently wasn't enough time to precisely answer, prompting all examinees to abbreviate their answer to the essential.
I had no reason to do anything but that.
Fractures spread along mineral veins. Metabolism noticeably increases. Immobilization and gradual mineral infusion allow the skin to rebind and harden over time.
Nevertheless, not believing myself infallible by any means, I induced [Guided] to act as my reviser, indicating to me whenever I wrote something that didn't fit.
With all the groundwork done, there was only one thing left to do.
[Focus].
What is the primary risk of overheating in Draethi physiology?
Their heat-generating metabolism can spiral, leading to internal burns; cooling the body and suppressing metabolic output is essential.
How do Sorells recover from bone stress due to their low density?
Bones must be kept under minimal load while calcium-rich intake and controlled movement encourage gradual reinforcement.
What sustains Kethras in low-light conditions, and what happens without it?
They draw energy from light; prolonged darkness leads to lethargy and tissue weakening, requiring artificial light exposure.
How does Myren's rapid regeneration fail under repeated injury?
Their regenerative capacity drains reserves quickly; without rest, tissue regrowth becomes flawed and unstable.
Question after question, my pen danced across the pages of the examination paper, words pouring forth in an unrestrained current of ink.
What is the consequence of nerve damage in Elyras?
Their heightened awareness amplifies disruption, causing disorientation; healing requires gradual nerve recalibration.
How do Vorins maintain mobility despite joint plating?
Their joints rely on precise alignment; damage requires careful repositioning before natural repair can occur.
What is the danger of bright light exposure to Zereths?
Overexposure overwhelms their vision, causing temporary blindness; recovery requires darkness and sensory isolation.
What is the effect of dehydration on Sylvaes?
Their vine-like structures dry and stiffen, reducing mobility; rehydration restores flexibility and healing.
How do Nyrels survive with low metabolic rates during injury?
They enter a semi-dormant state, slowing damage progression while gradually repairing tissues.
Hours slipped by unnoticed, and with the examination hall still filled with the restless scratch of pens racing across paper, the soft shuffle of turning pages, and the quiet, unceasing murmur of thought made ink, I turned my examination paper to its last page.
How do Ulren resist extreme pressure environments?
The difficulties of the questions hadn't changed.
They were still basic.
Their layered skin distributes force, but breaches must be sealed immediately to prevent potential internal damage induced through distribution overcompensation.
How does Virel's adaptability manifest during illness?
Their bodies adjust to stressors, but overadaptation can cause instability; balance must be restored through controlled conditions.
What is the primary vulnerability of Selyn wings?
Their hollow structure fractures easily. Immobilization and lightweight splinting are necessary for recovery.
Then I reached the last question.
What happens when an Oryll's cohesion fails?
My pen unfurled in a swift, decisive sentence.
Their semi-liquid form destabilizes from the outer layers inwards. Re-concentration of both mass and energy is required to restore structure.
And with that, I flipped the last page of my examination paper and was welcomed by a blank sheet.
Soundlessly putting down my pen, I made a quick sweep of the hall, the two examiners, and the fifty-odd examinees.
No one was looking.
Not Archivist Trius, not the other healer, none of the examinees.
Should I?
What were the alternatives?
Be a good fairy and go through a mixed embryonic [Cycle] breathing self-asphyxiation [Tempering] session?
No way.
Being exposed like so went against the nature of [Secrecy].
[Will]ing for my existence to vanish from others' [Perception] and [Awareness], a mantle of [Will] settled over me, and then the game was on.
My grasp of my examination paper secured, I waited until everyone within my [Perception] had their head lowered and the two examiners [Focus]ed on their own matters, then unhesitantly took off in the way of [Secrecy].
No sound, no abrupt motion, no physical displacement of air that could give me away.
No one reacted.
Success.
Smoothly, I glided over to the side of the examiners' table and initiated a slow and silent descent, being careful of them having formed the likes of an [Awareness] Aspect.
When I crossed the imaginary line I had traced, where all the examinees had to do was look up for me to enter their sight and the two examiners ought to shortly become aware of my presence behind them, I pushed my [Will] to its limits.
[Secrecy] is a shield no blade can pierce...
I initiated my dive when I felt the timing to be correct, and extending my [Will] such that my examination paper did not make a sound when I laid them down on the examiners' table, my objective was completed in less than three seconds' worth of time, and I ascended back to the relative safety brought by height.
Once I crossed back over the imaginary line, I took a look backward.
Archivist Trius was staring right at me.
The other examiner was still browsing through whatever paper had more presence than I did.
I looked over at the examinees...
A few had their eyes firmly locked onto my location.
It seemed I still needed some [Exertion]...
Not bad, though.
Not bad.