"Enter," a voice sounded from within before I could knock a second time.
I did just that and, following some fumbling with the unfamiliar handle, took in the sight of a smaller room than I expected, considering the scale of the Temple surrounding it.
Not that this smallness wasn't countered by a density of furnishings and documents that was, honestly, a sight to behold.
Shelves lined every wall, filled with bound documents, sealed cases, and stacks of loose metal sheets arranged according to a system I couldn't immediately decipher.
And behind a central desk sat who I presumed I had just heard the voice of, a thin, gray-skinned humanoid wearing the slightly more elaborate robes of a Seeker Archivist.
Magister Eliott's letter lay open before him.
His eyes briefly passed over me before returning to the documents lying on his desk.
"Solaena?" he pointlessly inquired.
"Yes," I pointlessly confirmed.
He invited me with his hands. "Sit, if you wish."
As the only available chair could have accommodated several dozen of me, I instead flew onto the edge of his desk.
He didn't object.
"Your letter of recommendation was personally written by Magister Eliott of the Red Sand Sector," he not-asked.
"Yes," I pointlessly confirmed a second time.
"A considerable distinction where you come from, I imagine."
His tone sounded perfectly polite.
Same with his mannerism, which didn't let transpire any hint of indifference or disinterest.
However...
The slight pause before "where you come from".
The way his eyes lingered upon my equipment without expressing any particular interest.
His perfunctory questions...
[Guided] quietly directed my attention toward those details, leaving me to form my own conclusions even as it subtly began altering my social conduct.
"Your accomplishments appear more than respectable for someone of your age and circumstances," he continued.
I was [Guided] to nod cordially.
"And I don't mean to diminish what you achieved."
His tone shifted to that of someone doing exactly that while wishing to avoid appearing impolite.
"Surviving and advancing within the Red Sand Sector undoubtedly required considerable perseverance and innate talent."
He folded his hands over the letter.
"However, circumstances change."
I remained silent.
"Throughout my tenure here, I have reviewed thousands of recommendations much like yours. Young Seekers years ahead in their studies. Sentinels capable of defeating individuals decades their seniors. Some were even considered unprecedented prodigies within their home Sectors."
He made a vague gesture toward the walls surrounding us.
"Then they arrived here. In the Everwell Sector."
He leaned back.
"Here, they meet children who have received structured instruction from birth. Families capable of supplying them with specialized tutors who have formed various [Teaching] Aspects, rare opportunities, access to established Paths and institutions dedicated to fields your home Sector has probably not even named."
He gestured vaguely around us once more.
"Just look at this border Main Temple, with a Seeker sanctuary larger than entire settlements."
His gaze settled upon me again.
"Most quickly discover that being exceptional in a desolate Sector does not make them exceptional here."
Fascinatingly, as he talked on and on, there was no hostility in his expression.
No mockery.
Only certainty born from repetition and experience.
That pretty much told me that he had most definitely delivered this explanation many times before, and he was potentially even the one responsible for handling all letters of recommendation.
Meaning, if I were given that explanation from the onset, and if this Main Temple or this Archivist before me didn't have any issue...
Things were even more different here than what I was told.
"I am not saying you are not exceptional in your own right, of course, but even with the resources of the Everwell Sector supporting us, there unavoidably came to be some manner of competition for privileged access to what the Faith Of The Aspects..."
And he droned on and on.
Until [Guided] found an opening, and I dove straight into it.
"So what do I need to do to gain access to the Prime Temple? Undergo an Essence [Appraisal]? Be interrogated by someone wielding a high-Tier [Truth] Aspect?"
A faint change crossed his face at my natural interrogation.
His shoulders shifted back.
His fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the letter.
[Guided] allowed me to discern it all and treat it as just another learning experience, whether it ended well or badly.
"You have only just arrived, so allow me to elucidate what lies ahead of you." He straightened slightly.
"First, let us talk about Everwell Prime, the city constructed around the Everwell Realm Rift."
"As you can easily learn, it is not closed to travelers, and anyone may theoretically enter it."
"Several factors must be considered before setting off on such a foolish journey, however."
"Distance. Cost. Danger. Qualification. Competition. You name it. It is the Prime City of the Everwell Sector, after all."
He listed each obstacle with practiced ease.
"Hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of individuals just like you arrive in this Sector every year with the intention of reaching the Prime City."
"Some come bearing some manner of recommendations, like you. Others possess wealth, influential relatives, rare Aspects, or achievements far exceeding what would make them renowned elsewhere."
"As for how many succeed?"
He paused.
"Very few. And that is merely to eke out a living. Being recruited into the Prime Temple?"
His lips pressed together for an instant.
"Fewer still. Because your competition no longer consists merely of those arriving, but also everyone already inhabiting this Sector and the Prime City itself."
"And as to answer your earlier question, what does the Prime Temple evaluate?"
He shrugged.
"Choose whatever you desire. Seeker and Sentinel ranks. Path development. Contributions to the Faith. Academic achievements. Rarely, demonstrated potential. There is no singular road leading to recruitment, only a combination of factors."
"Which would be the most direct?" I inquired.
He exhaled softly through his nose.
Not enough to qualify as a sigh.
Enough for my [Awareness] to catch it.
"The most direct course would be for you to cease thinking of the Prime Temple as your immediate destination."
He offered me a thin smile, adopting an expression of patient magnanimity.
"You have already made an extraordinary journey from a Sector with very limited opportunities. There is no shame in allowing yourself time to adapt."
"For now, you should continue your studies here. Register properly with this Temple. Familiarize yourself with the knowledge we possess. Seek appropriate instruction and mentorship. Contribute where your abilities prove useful. Advance through the ranks."
Essentially, I was being placated.
That, or this was some manner of test of character.
Still, his tone implied that he considered the matter resolved, so the likelihood of this being a test was extremely low.
Unless a Veiled was listening in while eluding my [Awareness].
To be certain, I [Will]-enhanced my [Awareness], gaining a semi-clear impression of the rooms and people surrounding me.
Nothing.
"If it is of some comfort to you, there are many promising Seekers and Sentinels here in Ophir," he continued.
"Some have trained here for decades without presuming themselves ready for Everwell Prime City. Getting ahead of yourself would serve no one."
The false generosity of the gesture became evident.
He wasn't forbidding me from proceeding.
He wasn't giving me the means to proceed either.
He was simply releasing me into the Temple and expecting reality to correct whatever excessive estimation Magister Eliott's recommendation had inspired.
A dead end, then.
Endeavoring to prove myself here would only risk worsening my already unstable image as a newcomer from a desolate Sector.
I could continue questioning him, of course, but it was highly plausible that he would continue answering without providing anything useful.
[Guided] agreed.
"Understood," I ultimately said.
"Glad to see you have seen reason."
The Archivist relaxed slightly.
"May I have my letter of recommendation back?"
His expression paused.
"The Faith normally retains submitted correspondence for archival purposes..."
Hearing him say something like that, I nearly suggested we write a contract so that neither of us—specifically me, in this case—could later invoke the existence of our conversation.
But I ultimately decided against it.
"I only stopped here because this was the first Main Temple I encountered, and I needed to ask for directions and instructions. Now that I understand more of what I am dealing with, I will need time to gather enough information to decide where to settle."
I wasn't lying.
I simply wasn't telling the whole [Truth].
Still, my reasoning proved solid enough for him to examine my letter with something resembling genuine consideration.
Shortly afterward, he folded it along its original creases and extended it toward me.
"As you wish."
I took it and returned it to my backpack.
"Thank you for your time, Seeker Archivist."
"You are welcome. If you wish to arrange a more extended stay, the registration hall is located two corridors to the right of the entrance hall. They will assist you with lodging, archive permissions, and an initial assessment."
"I understand."
Leaving his desk, I flew toward the door, opened it proficiently this time, then closed it behind me.
Wanting somewhere to think this through, I returned to the inner courtyard filled with strange flora and landed upon what looked like a giant green-and-red flower.
It bounced lightly when my weight—and that of my armor and backpack—settled upon it, but otherwise remained still.
So... that was that.
I had arguably reached the Everwell Sector, even if I was presently located within what was considered its "border", far from the Prime City where all the [Knowledge] I sought must be.
And the only advice I received was to remain here, study, contribute, and advance until someone else decided I was ready.
That... was not a proper plan.
It was an expectation that I would eventually accept the place assigned to me.
Obviously, I would have done so if it came with guarantees that I would eventually be recognized, but from what I had just been told...
Merely being excellent and talented was no longer enough, considering how many aspired to enter the Prime Temple.
So...
I was alone, inside a Temple larger than any single building I had previously entered, within a Sector whose lowest standards already exceeded many of the highest I had ever known, and whose organization I intended to join proved accommodating.
That warranted a pretty significant redesign of my priorities.
But first...
What next?
I and [Guided] determined that [Clarity] of thought came first.
Thus, I entered a short communion, both to center my mind and to work through the developments brought by my journey from the Red Sand Sector to here.
[Guided] (Origin)[Cultivation] (Tier 1)[Insight] (Tier 3)[Awareness] (Tier 2)[Secrecy] (Tier 0)[Will] (Tier 3)[Clarity] (Tier 0)[Harmony] (Tier 1)[Ambition] (Tier 0)[Purity] (Tier 0)
Within seconds, my entire Essence unraveled as I plunged into a state of true communion, revealing the full extent of my Path.
Only once it had been displayed so completely did I then begin to contemplate what my course of action ought to be.
First, on the most general level, by looking at organizations capable of assisting me.
Apart from the Faith Of The Aspects, there were three organizations amongst dozens I had been told about that I knew could potentially assist me.
The Fairy Court, which any fairy could join, though from what I had read, it presented itself more as a political faction than anything else, serving as the "court" where diplomacy and negotiations occurred between various smaller fairy factions.
The Pulse Of Eternity, where I would find all manner of healers wielding the [Vitality] Aspect, which I evidently intended to join one day once I confirmed that the [Vitality] Aspect truly was what I had read it to be.
And the Creed Of Nonexistence, which Stavros had told me I would become a member of whether I wanted to or not, considering how [Worthy] I was.
Only once I established that did all the associated long-term considerations and implications start mattering.
That immediately disqualified the Fairy Court and the Creed Of Nonexistence, as I neither knew enough about them nor wanted to involve myself with either before learning more, thus giving rise to a deadlock born of ignorance.
That ultimately left me with three rationales to pursue as courses of action.
Finding a more agreeable high-ranking member of the Faith deeper within the Everwell Sector who was open to regarding me as worth all the effort required to get my foot through the door of the Prime Temple.
Playing up my healing capabilities to engage with the Pulse Of Eternity, capabilities which had only developed further in the wake of my [Awareness] Aspect advancing to Tier 2, with potential new applications stemming from my [Harmony] and [Purity] Aspects.
Or journeying deeper into the Everwell Sector by myself and seeing where the novel intelligence I learned there took me.
Conveniently, none of those three courses of action ran contrary to the ultimate factor deciding whether I would act upon them.
My personal interests.
Only the third exposed me to any significant danger, according to the words of the Archivist I had just parted with.
Otherwise, none had the potential to lead me astray, and all possessed the capacity to further my [Knowledge] in one way or another.
Ending my true communion, all that remained was the [Clarity] of knowing what I had to do next.
Hence, with a light beat of my wings, I took to the air.
I had much to do.
◇ ◈ ◈ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◈ ◈ ◇
Departing Ophir's Main Temple of the Faith, still ignorant of exactly where I ought to go first to pursue my objective of heading deeper into the Everwell Sector, I began visiting everywhere that appeared likely to provide answers.
Huge tower buildings that seemed to belong to single organizations.
Popular places with heavy traffic.
I chased after whatever names I heard repeated most often, regardless of whether they initially seemed relevant.
At first, I approached everything as I had during my Sentinel assignments within Red Sand Rift City.
Directly.
I asked questions.
Introduced myself in increasingly convincing ways by repeating what I observed and incorporating whatever corrections I received.
Presented Magister Eliott's letter when relevant.
Explained what [Knowledge] I was seeking.
Then observed the reactions.
Most were remarkably consistent.
A brief glance at me.
A longer one at my equipment.
A polite inquiry into my age, achievements, organizational affiliation, or Sector of origin.
Followed by a swift loss of interest.
Some answered my questions without ever looking away from their documents.
Others redirected me toward reception halls, introductory courses, or public libraries before I finished explaining what I wanted.
Several simply informed me that someone of my standing couldn't access what I sought, then resumed whatever they had been doing.
Even when [Guided] adjusted my tone, posture, timing, and manner of presenting myself...
Little changed.
Evidently, it wasn't solely a matter of hostility toward those coming from other Sectors.
I had simply entered a Sector filled with too many people for the existence of one more unknown hopeful to matter.
For everyone I introduced myself to, I could only imagine that there were hundreds of others like me.
For every request for information I made, every organization surely received thousands of similar ones.
Just as the Archivist had said, every institution here possessed its own established hierarchy of individuals who had already spent decades building sufficient reputations to be noticed.
Within the Red Sand Sector, simply being a fairy had made me unusual.
Being a fairy with an unusual Origin Aspect, four Aspect syntheses, and numerous achievements to my name had made me memorable.
Here...
I was perceived as what I looked like.
A seemingly lost young fairy wearing a travel-worn combat weave and a full backpack.
Not that interesting.
Not worth looking into.
Just another passerby.
Even other fairies treated me no differently.
The first I approached wore a strange uniform adorned with symbols indicating affiliations I couldn't identify.
She listened to my inquiry regarding organizations specializing in Essence development for several breaths.
Then another fairy joined us, this one wearing finely woven blue robes and carrying a stack of crystalline sheets.
The fairy I had been speaking to immediately turned away from me to engage in a discussion concerning a lecture, a sponsorship opportunity, and someone whose name seemed sufficiently important that both lowered their voices whenever it was mentioned.
I waited until they finished.
Then, when the first fairy finally turned back toward me, she appeared surprised to find me still there before decisively pointing toward a directory panel and leaving without another word.
The second time, a group of fairies occupying a small elevated platform interrupted their conversation when I approached.
They assessed me, answered my inquiries in the fewest words possible, then resumed talking around me.
Others ignored me entirely or became instantly dismissive once I introduced myself, calling me provincial and other terms.
Provincial.
A novel designation.
Not an inaccurate one, either, from what I gleaned of its definition as encompassing individuals originating from comparatively undeveloped Sectors.
I stored it alongside everything else I was learning.
Truthfully, I wasn't particularly surprised by the difficulties I found myself facing.
Civilization did not promise recognition or acceptance to those partaking in it, after all.
It only promised access to systems capable of producing both.
Hence, until I established myself within those systems, being overlooked was simply the cost of entering them.
That was acceptable.
Apathy and dismissiveness had their advantages, after all.
All I required was [Knowledge], in the end, and as it turned out, even dismissive answers to well-designed inquiries contained some.
Little by little, my available options expanded.
Like, I now knew that joining an academy was an option.
There appeared to be thousands scattered throughout the Everwell Sector, and they supposedly catered to everything a young Essence Entity might aspire to pursue.
Because that was apparently what academies did.
Combat.
Aspect theory.
Realm ecology.
Essence fundamentals.
Crafting disciplines.
Diplomacy.
Subjects whose names conveyed nothing to me...
Some supposedly even revolved around preparing students to join particular organizations.
Others readied them to pursue specific Paths or even singular high-order Aspects.
As for accessing them, I heard frequent mentions of payment.
Thousands of coins per year, sometimes more or less, depending on the reputation of the academy one wished to join.
Others allegedly relied on examinations or demanded sponsorships, recommendations, specific Aspects, or proof of prior achievement.
Several allegedly recruited directly from poorer settlements along the edge of the Everwell Sector, though further inquiries revealed that those arrangements often came with years or decades of obligations.
All in all, joining an academy could provide instruction, legitimacy, contacts, and opportunities.
It could also bind me to an institution I knew nearly nothing about.
Another novel possibility I only just learned about was joining an Everwell Realm delving team, which, once I started paying attention, turned out to probably be a streamlined course of action according to how recruitment notices for them appeared everywhere.
On public boards.
Along major roads.
Outside nearly every tower.
Throughout market streets.
Inside establishments built solely to connect teams with prospective members.
The "positions" recruited varied.
Harvesters.
Guards.
Navigators.
Appraisers.
Transporters.
Researchers.
Healers.
Carriers, whose strange task upon entry was to carry unusable refuse into the Realm so that the team they were part of had an elevated harvesting limit.
The rewards appeared considerable, with expedition bonuses that could allow even up-and-coming lucky ones to acquire foods, materials, ores, organisms, and rare Essence treasures available nowhere else.
That all expeditions could also end with every member being reclaimed and reprocessed alongside everything around them if greed or disaster struck and they ended up still inside the Everwell Realm when its renewing transpired was, of course, mentioned nowhere.
When I asked how new arrivals joined those teams, though, most recruiters told me to return after acquiring recognized qualifications from Rifter Guilds, which put a serious damper on that course of action.
As for joining those willing to recruit without them, they either demanded extensive contracts or were so evidently desperate that joining them would have amounted to voluntary disposal.
I added both academies and delving teams to my growing list of possibilities, though neither truly interested me.
Then I discovered options I initially struggled to classify as such.
Sports.
Games.
Competitions.
The distinction between them appeared arbitrary.
Some involved direct physical contests.
Others tested control over Aspects, flight, memory, [Craft]ing...
A few even supposedly possessed entire institutions dedicated to training their participants.
Successful competitors accumulated wealth, recognition, sponsorships, and access to opportunities and people who would otherwise never acknowledge them.
One such institutionalized game, for example, was Blitz.
At first, I assumed the crowds gathered around its boards were watching some form of tactical planning exercise.
They were not.
Or rather, they were, but solely for entertainment.
Two players controlled groups of Essence Entity pieces across a divided board.
Each piece possessed predefined capabilities based on the Aspects it represented.
The objective was to eliminate the opposing force or fulfill one of several shifting victory conditions before one's own pieces were destroyed.
Terrain changed.
Resources appeared and vanished.
Realm Rifts altered portions of the board.
Certain pieces could advance, synthesize Aspects, or become permanently impaired depending on how they were used.
It was...
Interesting.
I watched one match.
Then another.
By the third, [Guided] had already begun grasping the underlying rules and making hazardous predictions.
By the fifth, I truly started to understand where the depth of the discipline came from.
Preservation versus disruption.
Treating the loss of high-value pieces as exchanges rather than inherent failures.
Accounting for the psychological effect of making an apparently irrational move.
There were also evidently established strategies, which allowed unfamiliar board states to disrupt even experienced players' planning.
There was no doubt in my mind that, with [Guided], sufficient practice, and the appropriate study materials, I could become excellent at Blitz.
Perhaps even exceptional.
But...
What would be the point?
Sure, success could potentially place me before someone capable of helping me reach the Prime Temple.
But it could also consume years while producing nothing relevant to my Path beyond incidental [Insight]s.
Blitz was nothing more than a momentarily appealing option born from my ignorance of better ones.
A false Path created by incomplete [Knowledge].
The same applied to dozens of professions, competitions, academies, and organizations.
Each could lead somewhere of interest, I reckoned.
Just not somewhere relevant to me.
For me, they would amount to little more than wasting time better spent advancing my Path on my own.
So I kept moving.