Silen still lay on the ground. The bright sun reflected directly on him; his pale complexion grew alive, and his dark black hair glistened under it.
He had his eyes closed, for he was currently feeling rather anxious. But the task he had at hand was necessary.
'Interpreter?'
No response.
Feeling both nervous and elated, he tried again.
'Interpreter.'
Yet no response came. Then he willed the same thought again. Yet not a single bit of change occurred in either his soul or vision.
'Is this it? Have the heavenly spirits really forsaken this land at last? Is this why this body has no memory of the spirit or interpreter?'
Deep down, he knew it was wishful thinking. The heavenly hierarchy was forever unchanging. It was simply a natural law for the spirit to exist.
'Well, anyway, the memory says that gnosia can still be achieved, even if the process is inconvenient and obscure. That should be my first goal.'
He carefully got up from the ground and looked at Sersa. He stared curiously at the man; Sersa was currently dozing off on a chair, his head hanging down uncomfortably, but his hand held his sword strongly.
Silen spoke calmly.
"It's time to go. Wake up."
Sersa was dozing off on the chair, his head carelessly hanging down, and the watch in his hand was on the ground. Hearing Silen's voice, Sersa immediately woke up. The first thing he did was pick up the watch from the ground. It took him a moment to register what he had just heard.
"Huh??"
"Ohh. It's not like you've got a job or meetings to attend."
Seeing his reaction and following up with the memories from his mind, he knew what kind of person the previous Silen was: a man who refused to do anything but read and stare at things. So Sersa's reaction was valid. But he wasn't that Silen anymore. For all he knew, that man was dead.
So Silen needed to safeguard himself from suspicion that would come from his future actions. He needed a reason valid enough for Sersa to ignore all the strange changes.
"Things are going to change now."
Sersa still looked unserious.
"Is it a new prophecy on the social state of the kingdom?"
Silen could only shake his finger in refute if his question before continuing with his lie.
"You asked for the reason as to why I came here in the middle of the night, remember?"
Sersa nodded, and Silen continued as he strolled in front of Sersa.
"Well, that was a part of my ritual. A ritual of change. In the night, I let my soul-bound mother embrace me for one last time. In the bath of the first light, I have resolved her embrace."
Silen immediately retorted.
"Mother just means comfort and recluse into owns own self, at least symbolically and in this context."
'I almost forgot that it was a sensitive topic for the previous Silen!'
Sersa believed his explanation.
"Well I don't think I want to comprehend your symbolicism first thing in the morning. Just explain it to me. Did you get enlightenment or something?"
Silen waited for a second and nodded.
"Yes, but it's much simpler. It's a realization. Let me just say it: I have decided to become a transcendent."
Hearing such absurdity, Sersa gave him a surprised look, with a bit of sarcasm hidden in it. He wanted to make a joke—it was obvious in his eyes. But when he looked at Silen's expression, an expression of someone who was sure of what they desired, he held back.
He waited for a second, finally deciding to speak.
"You know it's borderline impossible to just will gnosia into existenc?"
"I do."
Sersa did not reply to him any further. He stared at him for a while.Yet before any further conversation could occur, a sudden change occurred in the hall.
A moth manifested in the room from an unknown corner.
Regardless of how unfocused they were on their surroundings, their attention was immediately drawn toward the silk-white creature. From each flutter of its wings came a serene sound. The world seemed to have momentarily paused, and the slow movement of the moth became hypnotic.
It moved slowly toward Silen and Sersa. But it took only a moment for it to arrive; the moth landed softly on Silen's shoulder.
Both men stared at each other in confusion because they knew what it signified.
Sersa spoke first.
"Church of the Collective Depth? Why would they call for you?"
Silen shook his head. There was no memory of anything relating to it.
Sersa stood up from his chair and spoke urgently.
"We must make haste then. I don't like the unknown. I just hope it's not something serious."
"Let's also continue our conversation on the way."
The next moment, they were already making their way toward one of the doors of the hall, a path leading straight to the Garden of Ambiguity.Silen walked in front while Sersa followed him. Thinking about Sersa, he suddenly had an idea.
"Sersa, how about you teach me how to use a sword?"
Sersa clicked his tongue.
"I wish I could, but you know that it's limited to my family. It's not even a matter of secrecy; it's about the genealogy."
While Sersa said so, they were already at the door leading to the hallway.
"Of course I know that. I never said teach me your sword art. I said teach me how to use a sword. I can learn basic arts from books anytime I want."
In that moment, they stepped into the hallway. A brand new view came into their vision.
On the left were stained glass windows that reflected brilliant colors onto the right wall. The stained glass depicted many symbolic images: some of a tree growing eggs and a maze below it; in one of the others was a village with some strange instrument in the middle.
It was a strange experience for Silen, who had seen most of the world and yet had no idea what any of this meant. In the past, of course, there were obscure manifestations of many kinds, but this world was just riddled with them.
'Well, it makes sense. Without the systematic trials and blessings through the heavenly spirit, there would, of course, only be left the hazy requirements of a gnostic quest.'
Regardless, he decided to memorize all these depictions into his own memory; retrieving data from the memory of the previous Silen was simply too taxing at times for him.
Sersa, who was thinking about Silen's words, finally replied.
"It's not like I can refuse your word. I will teach you how to fight with a sword every evening. How about it? If you really are serious."
Silen smiled faintly hearing this.
'After all these years of fantasizing about it, I am finally getting a chance to learn how to fight. This life might just be the fruit of all my suffering.'
"It's good with me."But his expression immediately turned dark thinking about the past.
'And eventually, I'll eat that bitch alive.'
Noticing the glee in his voice, Sersa immediately retorted.
"Do not forget it's physical training, not magic."
Silen simply nodded without thinking too deeply about it. After all, any amount of suffering did not affect him as much as weakness did.Silence continued between them as Silen focused on observing the windows and the images they depicted.It took a long while for the endlessly winding hallway to come to an end.
In front of them was an enormous wooden door. On the door was an engraving of an arm rising above the mist. From the hidden world below, only a few mountains and towers rose above to see the full majesty of the hand. At the highest point of the engraving was the end of the arm—a hand holding a sword that reflected rays of light down upon each of the monuments capable of rising above the murky world.Below the engraving, directly in front of Silen, was writing engraved into the wall. The language of the sentence was from a dialect belonging to the Order of Pale Saint Asif Descrites. The body that Silen had acquired had been a scholar to begin with; there was no way he hadn't already decrypted this writing.
Silen only had to travel lightly into the mental engravings and retrieve the memory. Since there was a direct association in front of him, the translation came instantly.
"Ahead lies the passage to all, the Garden of Inexactness. An unclear mind shall forever be lost within the ambiguity."