IT WAS HIS second day at the Tower, which meant that he still had five days to go before he was sent to Camp. Now that he was sitting with legs crossed upon the platform inside the Chamber of Sanctum, with both hands on his laps while Miss Olivia also sat facing him, Maze had hope the day would bring him some more learning. At this point, the six-pointed star was spinning. The three circles from the upward triangle and the symbols within them were already shining, although the ones in the inverted triangle seemed to not be fully realized and were only flickering. Maze had been in cogitation for about half an hour, which was a swifter visiting of his Vision and finding his Soul Tree than yesterday.
Miss Olivia had already informed him of the symbols upon the platform. The triangle's three circles held the body, soul, and spirit, while the inverted triangle contained those necessary for the full realization of his path, such as for power, essence, and core, in general.
It was also said that through cogitation and the experiencing of one's threefold existence, one would truly master the retention of one's learnings; for at such heights, the acquisition of knowledge could be made profound through innate focus. Miss Olivia had articulated it thus: "The Learning Method of Children, they who manifest Vision, by the aid of cogitation."
Maze had not questioned the method, for its efficacy was beyond dispute.
"Tell me what you can recall once more, Maze." Miss Olivia stared at the calm face of the boy, who bore evidence of sweat upon his countenance. "Since you have been doing your meditation for some time now, it is best we try and further realize your path."
Maze began recollecting his learnings.
"Miss Olivia, I have come to know that the color of the bark means that I am treading Orphanhood. The color of the leaves . . . from what I can remember, is what determines my progress. Is it not Fertile? Since my Soul Tree has pale green leaves." He paused to steady his breath. "Therefore, my Soul Tree is the key to seeing the foundation of my soul. Without it, I will not see whether or not my soul is healthy, or whether or not I am at my limit. But this part is only my opinion. Perhaps, I am mistaken."
"I commend you for remembering these details, Maze." Miss Olivia smiled, even though the man could not see her do so. "Then, let us begin, shall we?"
"I am listening, Miss Olivia."
And so, Maze, wandering within his Soul Tree, waited for the whisper of Miss Olivia. Her voice arrived as the wind in this domain. After a while, the wind finally spoke.
"You already know that your Phantasm is a Vision, and that is the surface you have come to accept. Since time immemorial, a Phantasm is granted to chosen individuals, but the manner by which it is granted . . . depends. Do you have any idea why, Maze?"
Upon hearing that, Maze held a bargain with his own thoughts.
Thinking about it, his Phantasm was indeed a Vision, which was a manifestation of a conscious dream. Although vague, Sir Azaniel did say that a Phantasm was something a Child must confront.
But if he were to realize it, Sir Azaniel was not truly speaking of every Child. Perhaps the 'us' by which he called every Child was the 'us' that was the Orphans. Then Maze could conclude that a Vision was a Phantasm an Orphan must necessarily confront . . . but other Children who were not Orphans did not have them?
There was only one way to find out.
"Is it because . . . a Vision is not the only Phantasm?"
He heard the wind's slight response as a gust, and a demure chuckle resonated with it.
"You have wits about you, Maze." She fell silent for a moment. "As I said, in the beginning, there manifest two Phantasms, and these are the origins of the power granted among the chosen."
Origin? Maze thought, his brows furrowing.
"It is safe to say that a Phantasm can also be called a trigger." Miss Olivia paused. "I shall use a bow and arrow as an example for you to better understand, Maze. If a man is a target, and the arrow is the projectile, then the release of the string is the trigger as the hand releases the force to strike. The string is the Phantasm and the arrow is the power granted to man; and not that it is meant to wound him, but to make him a subject of . . . pain. Such as that, pain is a gift meant to heal man afterward, for, by this logic, the one who loosed the shaft surely possessed a motive for doing so."
The wind hushed and caressed Maze's treacle-black hair.
"In a divine sense, the one who loosed the arrow can either be yourself or a god. But how do we determine the difference? It is by what the arrow manifests as. Hmm . . . are you following, Maze?"
Maze could only nod.
Miss Olivia continued her lecture.
"Suppose there are two types of arrows: an arrow that is poisoned, and an arrow that is burning. A burning arrow is from a god, and the poisoned arrow is from the self. They possess a different effect, am I correct, Maze?"
Maze finally began to understand, while Miss Olivia established the analogy in a deeper sense.
"And so, the arrow, in general, is a Phantasm, but the effect it gives is different depending on what is imbued within it. Is it fire, or is it poison? If it is fire, then your body burns externally. But if it is poison, it seeps into your vessels until death. Will you, then, survive the poison, or will you subside the fire? The arrow can only be shot once, and thus, a Phantasm can only be triggered in one way or the other: a Vision . . . and a Wine."
A Wine? he asked inwardly. Maze's entire frame experienced a chill, as if being soaked in cold water, or as if he were drowning in the river when a doppelganger had pushed him into it.
"But, Miss Olivia," Maze was reluctant, "does that also mean that power is different one way or another?"
"Yes, my child." Miss Olivia seemed to be in wonder as she spoke. "To better understand power, we must understand the root. A Vision . . . what do you think it is for?"
"Aside from it being a necessity for us to confront . . . I wish to learn whatever else is necessary."
"It is true that it is a necessity for a Child, but the confrontation lasts as long as we are alive. Enlightenment does not bore itself once, but brick by brick."
Maze kept the words in his heart.
"By understanding the intent of the one who shoots the arrow — either a god or the self — we understand the Phantasm. The self is the trigger for a Vision, is it not, Maze? Just as the Vision is the trigger for power. But for a god to be the trigger of a Wine, then the Wine becomes the trigger for power. We fall into either of these categories . . . and so we experience Vision."
That means . . . many other truths for me, Miss Olivia. So many truths that they only tangle into one another, making it hard to untangle them. Maze almost weakened at that moment, though not to cower nor to falter. For what was knowledge if not knowing more only to realize one could merely know lesser and lesser?
"Then, can a Vision happen to anyone?"
"Indeed, Maze," Miss Olivia confirmed. "As you loiter in your Phantasm, you loiter in the fact that you have been treading the path of the self. The reason a Vision can happen to anyone is that the self is the trigger, yet not everyone can have a Vision. You see, what if the self is not conscious enough for a Vision to reveal itself? Then it might not be his time to be enlightened. But this is something abhorred to those of the Towers Yonder, Maze—the very root by which we are outcasts. We are misunderstood and wretched in their sight because we do not follow their ideals. Do you know why?"
Maze's heart throbbed abnormally. "Why is that, Miss Olivia?"
"The Towers Yonder believe in the principle of drinking by cup, and we did not drink from it."
Then, I was right that the Wine is a drinkable liquor . . .
"You mean by cup, it is the idea of manifesting power through wine?"
Miss Olivia sighed as the wind hushed.
"The Wine comes from a god itself, by which power is a gift from them. Those Towers Yonder are both orthodox and non-orthodox, Maze; they worship the ones who have given them power, and that power can only be given to those whom they choose." The wind calmed for a while. "We, of the Towers Below, do not follow such religion, nor do we lean entirely toward the occult. If the arrow the self shoots is poison, then the arrow the god shoots is fire. The effect comes externally, and the pain is a gift of the divine to obtain glory."
Different methods of being chosen: one who chose himself, and one chosen by a god. But the manner of arriving at the tower also shared distinct methods, and if Maze were correct —
"How would they choose?"
It kept on bothering him the moment Miss Olivia had mentioned it.
"I have heard from Vaelstrom that you asked him about the beast that brought you here."
Maze answered "yes" to affirm.
"By that logic, the griffins only go to places to hunt certain individuals, and that happens once a year, every Day of the Eclipse. If our griffins hunt those who have Vision, they do not hunt just anyone, unlike the beasts who abduct chosen ones in the Selection of Children."
He could feel Miss Olivia's deep stare.
"Do you have any idea why there are no reports of missing individuals when the Eclipse occurs? An oblivious spell is casted to the world to forget a Child ever exists, and so the Towers hide what must be hidden."
Aside from the fact that he was busy shepherding, the gossip from the maids and servants of the manor he once resided in never seemed to discuss this issue at all. That only confirmed that Miss Olivia was stating the fact. There was not a single dread that the normal people had ever sensed whenever the eclipse occured, only that it was indicating renewal. Such renewal was this reality.
"The Selection of Children and the Hunt of the Awakened might differ in methods, but they are of the same intent, Maze. However, anyone can truly come to our Tower if they have already realized a Vision. For the others, they are a selection from a pool of people from a specific age group randomly, yet in their ideals, 'perfect candidates of fate.' They believe their gods chose them to drink from the cup."
Maze had not uttered a word.
"And the cup contains the blood of the god they worship."