Thales was ten years old and wandering the halls—
routinely, at this point.
He couldn't go outside, so his life rotated between the forest, his mother's mansion,
and occasionally playing with Beatrix in many odd manners.
His growth was forcefully static, by nature of his confinement.
He had increasing freedom, so he avoided his mother.
But he was often bored here.
Still, unconsciously, he was planning for a specific future.
And consciously, he was planning for the journey.
Suddenly, he was interrupted mid-thought.
Thales felt it.
He was between something—between two layers of Umwelt.
From the most common of rabble
to a more unique experience.
But he had no reason to think about a tier he could not yet use.
What interrupted him, though, was deeply unsettling.
There was another person
standing on the outside.
And for some reason, the aura leaking from the man's visage
was making Thales's bones creak.
It was not indifferent to him—
it was like a cat playing with its food.
The man looked at Thales with a mix of curiosity
and—unsettlingly enough—pleasure in his eyes.
He had a regal presence about him.
Golden hair. Aquiline blue eyes.
A sword, concealed.
Thales didn't even have time to wonder if it was special.
He was grappling to stay conscious beneath this man's majesty.
He wore a cape of kings of war,
and armour even more golden than his hair.
A beautiful man.
Even Thales, a child with hints of strange beauty,
was dwarfed by the man's radiant form.
This man was only leaking a shimmer of his essence—
maybe consciously, maybe not.
But Thales could tell.
This was nowhere near his full power.
The man finally spoke.
"You there—Initiate of the Last Star."
"Yes," Thales croaked.
"That's an unfortunately pathetic response.
I expected more from you."
The man leaned into Thales's face—
as if to kiss him—
and whispered in his ear.
"You haven't been here before."
"So why now?"
Thales innocently blinked,
trying not to piss himself.
His pride would never concede such weakness.
"I don't know what you mean. I just wandered aimlessly and ended up here."
"I have good eyes.
My Umwelt is... rather developed.
And yet, I can't tell if you're telling the truth or lying."
"Experience—my experience—tells me you're lying.
But my logic says you're telling the truth.
I cannot perceive what you are.
And if you are lying… I'd rather not speculate why something like you has shown up."
"But I assure you," he continued, "I have supreme conviction in my ability to organize the relations of the system.
You are merely a craven worm relative to me—
as are the rest.
Their plights will remain unsaturated.
My hunger is too greedy, you see."
"This isn't to downplay your purpose," he said.
"Nor is it to mock your circumstances.
But you are either a peon soldier for me—
or an ant to be crushed."
"Maybe you can entertain me."
"Which could it be?"
"What's your name?
I'll forget your face—
but I never forget a man's destiny."
...
"Never mind. I got bored.
Thales Miray, speak quicker next time."
"What..." Thales yelped.
How does he know?
I don't remember him from the dinner party...
"I provide fresh nourishment to you," the man said, "by letting you learn my name.
It is ***** ********.
Although my last name will be Miray, unfortunately."
"What a shame," he sighed.
"I wish I could change it.
But unless I play with you properly,
he will remain insurmountable—
even if I get past her."
"These past years, that wench has bored me."
"You…
You were never there, though."
"I hope you provide me with great experience."
"I tire of this frequency.
The wheel that spins endlessly in the r'leyian vacuum is no longer apt for me."
He walked away, no longer paying Thales any mind.
Thales fell to his knees, panting heavily.
Fuck.
Do I have to beat a tough nut like that?
But why do I deeply believe
he is nothing to me
as long as I keep living?
Thales gathered his wits.
His eye caught that book again.
There was tension in the air.
An anticipatory atmosphere.
That book, again.
"Cogito ergo dubito: yet never The Mystery.
By ETERNAL MONOMYTH PRIMORDIAL."
I must read this, Thales thought.
As if it were an experience.
Not merely to read—
but to organically activate its juices
and let it flow into his Umwelt.
He flipped through the book.
Until he came across Legacy 62.
Elysiums are not distinct.
They are not divisible.
But a whole.
Electricity flows between myriad things—
and yet such things have but one Elysium.
The Mystery is such a Hegemonic Elysium.
*Elysium. **** *****, **********, *******,
and the Seventh—
and the myriad more—
all echoes of The Mystery.
Such purity... alchemy cannot hope to attain it through mythic and folly.
Gold for the God Standard.
And refuge for the not-so-exalted.
I do not judge. I merely communicate.
High speech may exchange for High reverence.
Noble deeds may potentially win—
even for laborers of demonic work.
The Not-So-Known of good—
they, too, are never forsaken.
When He spoke, and they were enthroned—
and He escaped.
The regents were enfeoffed, including -**.*
They were presented with pure mercury,
to accompany the Gold and Jade,
to balance the spirits.
He who speaks.
And then, he who reaps.
The one and the same.
His greatest war-horses even danced and frolicked before their meadows.
And yet—
would it not have been in their best interest to sit positioned still before The Mystery?
To enter The Mystery?
Why was The Mystery so greatly ranked even in antiquity?
Was it not said:
The striving and craving of The Mystery presents no bars.
Consequences are only truly abandoned then.
For even those that transcend cause and effect—
do not escape consequence.
Only fate, destiny, and pathetic murmurings.
And yet—
flowing through The Mystery puts you beyond even that Pillar.
The most feared.
For this Mystery was esteemed by all-unman fest and beached.
My trial is nothing compared to such elucidation.
I do wonder where this book leads to...
It's safe to say—
No type of person I've come to know could've composed this.
So what really lurks...
...on the outside?