Chapter 101

"I would still want to know why they changed suppliers."

The winged woman across from me paused halfway through answering Edmundo at my sudden speaking up.

Not because I had interrupted her.

I had waited until the previous exchange reached an appropriate opening, then said my piece with timing that naturally made the conversation [Flow] where I wanted.

"Because the new supplier is cheaper," she eventually answered.

"By less than two percent according to the figures you mentioned."

"Yes."

"And the previous supplier had worked with them for twenty-three years."

"Also correct."

I considered the best way to pursue my present [Purpose], then ultimately said, helped by [Guided], "So either the difference matters for reasons that aren't apparent from the price itself, something changed in the old relationship, or someone with enough authority wanted the new supplier."

Her expression shifted just enough for my [Awareness] to notice.

Edmundo noticed too.

"That," he said beside me, "is why you don't tell her half a story."

"I wasn't telling her anything. I was telling you."

"I was listening," I helpfully clarified.

"Yes. I've noticed."

She wasn't particularly annoyed.

Good.

I smiled.

Not the stiff arrangement of facial muscles Stavros had once repeatedly corrected.

A small, socially appropriate smile that months of experience and [Guided] had rendered sufficiently habitual that I no longer needed to contemplate its every detail.

"Then I'll stop stealing your conversation."

"You already stole it. You might as well finish."

Well, I wasn't one to refuse an invitation to establish new relationships.

So I did.

Not by interrogating her until every relevant piece of [Knowledge] had been extracted.

That would have been inefficient here.

Instead, I asked what made the new supplier worth risking an established relationship for, listened to her explanation, allowed Edmundo to add the context he considered relevant, then followed as the discussion naturally [Flow]ed toward a recent restructuring within the organization involved.

Around us, the gathering continued.

Hundreds of people occupied an immense hall overlooking one of Everwell Prime's commercial areas.

As I had left the sphere of influence of Lylily Tower, fairies were conspicuously absent compared to what I had become accustomed to.

The contrast was only heightened by the hosts evidently expecting enough morphologies that several architectural standards had been layered together without any one being allowed to dominate.

Grounded tables.

Raised platforms.

Suspended seating.

Open flight space.

Broad resting areas for larger winged species.

Transit routes wide enough for Entities many times my size to cross without inconveniencing anyone else.

Beyond the transparent outer wall, Everwell Prime stretched farther than my unenhanced visual [Perception] could meaningfully encompass.

Towers.

Bridges.

Transit structures.

Freight routes.

Streams of flying Entities.

Lights marking countless pathways between them.

Everything moving, [Flow]ing from one state to another.

Conceptually, there wasn't really any difference between what was taking place outside and inside this hall.

"Everything" simply encompassed more of what it already defined.

Introductions [Flow]ed into conversations.

Conversations [Flow]ed into establishing basic relationships.

Relationships [Flow]ed into blooming or waning [Foundation] of interests.

Not that I was in any hurry to ascertain such a [Comprehension] of how gatherings transpired within Everwell Prime just yet.

This was only my first time venturing into one thanks to being Edmundo's plus-one, after all.

Several more months had passed since my [Harmony] Aspect advanced within Lylily Tower, and somewhere along the way, my relationship with Edmundo had become difficult to classify as merely a mercantile acquaintance.

No [Contract] formalized anything.

No arrangement required him to teach me.

I paid him nothing.

Yet I sought him out often enough, brought him problems often enough, tested what he explained often enough, and returned with sufficiently improved questions that he had gradually started teaching me without either of us deciding when that began.

An unofficial apprenticeship, one could call it.

So when he mentioned attending this gathering and offered to bring me...

I accepted.

And my [Purpose] in coming was straightforward.

To see in practice what he had spent months explaining.

Expand my [Knowledge] of how Everwell Prime operated beyond Lylily Tower.

And while doing so...

Get myself noticed.

That objective had required somewhat more preparation.

My social skinweave was already designed for precisely this sort of environment, but clothing alone did not constitute presentation.

So before leaving, I had extensively cleaned myself and the skinweave, adjusted every white-and-gold layer until it sat exactly as intended, rearranged my crystalline hair ornaments twice, then applied the small collection of cosmetic products I had acquired over the previous months.

Basic ones.

A tiny quantity to even my complexion.

A little around my eyes to emphasize their coloration without competing with their natural iridescence.

A trace across my lips.

Nothing dramatic.

Nothing I couldn't have omitted without attracting notice.

Yet that was partly the point.

I had learned that deliberate social presentation frequently consisted of dozens of individually unnecessary details whose combined absence still produced a noticeably different result.

So I applied them.

Correctly.

[Guided] made that part easy now that I possessed sufficient experience for it to do so.

The final result fit what I wanted.

Young.

Pretty according to common humanoid-proportioned tastes.

Well cared for.

Wealthy-looking enough that my presence beside Edmundo didn't appear incongruous.

Not decorated to the point of looking like I was attempting to compete with adults who had spent decades turning their appearances into social tools of their own.

When we met outside, Edmundo had inspected me once from hair to covered feet, and from his slight daze, I knew I had successfully made myself look the part of a young fairy making something of a social debut.

Alternatively, I could also have been called an aspiring socialite.

Which, admittedly, could very well turn out to be true, considering the compatibility of such a reputation with my social [Ambition].

Because at first, when I had only just learned about those rare existences referred to as "socialites" and started comprehending what they actually did...

Attending the correct gatherings.

Knowing the correct people.

Maintaining relationships across otherwise separate circles.

Remaining visible enough to be familiar with everyone of importance.

Knowing who could introduce whom.

Understanding which invitations mattered.

Being someone whose sole presence opened conversations rather than requiring justification...

I truly considered being a socialite adjacent to exactly the sort of social [Foundation] I was trying to establish.

It even looked like the sort of Path I was nearly born for, to the same extent I was seemingly born for auditing massive amounts of documents thanks to my Origin Aspect.

The mere fact that my social faux pas had increasingly stopped being a meaningful problem once I acquired the relevant [Knowledge] and experience was sufficient proof of that.

What's more, that extended to so many other facets of being a socialite, such as acquiring perfect [Comprehension] and [Mastery] of...

Forms of address.

Etiquette.

Conversational timing.

Introductions.

Clothing.

Which subjects were suitable for which circles.

When an interruption was acceptable.

When leaving required explanation.

When explaining myself would only make things worse.

Who could be approached directly.

Who should be approached through someone else.

How long one could remain with a group before it started communicating unintended interest.

The routine portions could be [Guided].

Unfortunately...

I too swiftly came to realize that actually becoming a "socialite" came with another requirement.

Actually becoming one.

As in...

Attending one gathering.

Then another.

Accepting invitations often enough that people kept extending them.

Reciprocating attention.

Appearing at events because absence itself became meaningful after enough appearances.

Maintaining relationships whose immediate relevance to my Path bordered on nonexistent because relationships apparently deteriorated when one only acknowledged people whenever they became useful.

Eventually hosting things.

Remembering a hundred times the amount of pointless personal events I was already collecting the [Knowledge] of.

Fulfilling expectations created by repeatedly participating in the same circles.

All theoretically manageable.

Also all far too restrictive.

My [Cultivation] always had to come first.

Always.

I had no intention of letting social expectations dictate where I spent every idle period, much less allowing them to compete with periods during which my Essence could safely develop.

So I settled for simply adding the useful facets of being a socialite to my social person and went for something considerably easier to maintain.

The young fairy obsessed with [Cultivation].

Curious.

Eager to learn.

Strangely serious about things children usually weren't.

Competent enough to make indulging her potentially worthwhile.

All conveniently packaged beneath what people seemed very willing to interpret as "youth's innocence" and "future potential".

An image that conveniently barely required deception.

I was young.

I was curious.

I wanted to learn.

My obsession with [Cultivation] required no embellishment whatsoever.

Only the innocence and potential portions became misleading if someone looked further into it.

I had already killed other sapient Entireties and dozens of times that in wild beasts.

Already traveled between Sectors alone.

Already worked within multiple organizations.

Already managed investments.

Already earned an Aspirant rank within the Pulse Of Eternity.

Already accumulated sufficient political, economic, medical, and institutional [Knowledge] to be considered somewhat of a minor "player".

Already realized portions of the potential people preferred imagining as something waiting conveniently in my future.

Which was why it was so convenient.

Because none of that needed to be explained tonight.

My [Purpose] wasn't to impress everyone I encountered.

It was to make a few of them curious.

Curious enough to remember my name.

Curious enough to ask Edmundo who I was.

Curious enough to eventually investigate.

And from there, the deeper they looked, the more they would find.

The supplier discussion eventually produced the expected question.

"How old are you?"

"Six."

Her attention immediately moved toward Edmundo.

He declined to save her.

"So you're his...?"

"Guest."

"I was going to ask if you were related."

"No."

"Student?"

I looked toward Edmundo.

He had suddenly developed immense interest in another conversation.

"Unofficially, perhaps."

That brought him back.

"Do not make me responsible for everything you think you know."

"I wouldn't. Plenty of other people have taught me incorrect things too."

The woman laughed.

Edmundo sighed.

A few minutes later, another person joined us.

Then two left.

The supplier discussion transformed into one about organizational acquisitions.

I listened.

The new arrival knew something about regulatory approvals within one of Everwell Prime's central areas.

Interesting.

A question surfaced.

I didn't ask it.

Not yet.

The conversation hadn't reached the right place.

So I held it.

Less than a minute later, the discussion reached delays surrounding one of the approvals.

There.

I inserted my question.

The conversation naturally transitioned, barely disturbing the established [Flow].

An answer followed.

Then a name.

An organization.

A dispute whose existence I hadn't known about.

[Guided] retained everything.

My [Awareness], meanwhile, followed something else.

The [Flow].

Only superficially.

I wasn't going to turn a gathering into improper [Flow] [Cultivation] while my Essence still sat within a recovery period merely because the concept surrounded me.

But observing remained harmless.

People spoke.

Others responded.

Subjects changed.

Attention shifted.

A joke loosened one conversation.

A poorly phrased claim tightened another.

Someone important joined a group and altered who received the most attention without requesting anything.

One person departed.

Two followed.

The remaining participants split.

Fragments of the old discussion became the [Foundation] of two new ones.

Chaotic.

Not random.

Each interaction altered what followed.

And I had become much better at moving with them.

Months earlier, around the peripheral districts surrounding the Pulse Tower, I had practiced much the same thing with far less [Mastery].

Unlawfully taken from NovelPhoenix, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

I entered conversations at bad moments.

Stayed longer than I should.

Asked directly for information someone would have offered voluntarily had I waited.

Failed to understand why people continued talking after all useful information appeared to have been exchanged.

Misjudged when someone wanted an answer and when they merely wanted acknowledgement.

Each mistake became another experience [Guided] could use.

I corrected.

Repeated.

Failed differently.

Corrected again.

What I had built there formed part of the [Foundation] allowing me to do this now.

Only the scale had changed.

And so I [Flow]ed.

Edmundo left one group.

I remained because the conversation still held value.

When it ended, I accepted an introduction to someone else.

That discussion shifted toward a subject where I possessed nothing useful to contribute, so I listened until staying accomplished little.

Then moved.

Not abruptly.

A farewell.

A transition.

Someone nearby was already moving toward another conversation.

I accompanied them.

One interaction [Flow]ed into the next.

And as much as possible...

I never broke that [Flow].

Who was speaking?

Who intended to?

Who had already tried twice and been interrupted both times?

Who looked ready to leave?

Which unfinished subject could support another question?

Would asking it deepen the existing conversation or replace it?

Which detail about myself belonged in an introduction here?

Pulse Aspirant?

Useful sometimes.

Lylily Tower resident?

Frequently.

Young fairy obsessed with [Cultivation]?

Almost always.

The best introduction wasn't the one that made me appear most accomplished.

It was the one that belonged.

By the middle of the gathering, I mostly left Edmundo to himself while I pursued my own [Purpose].

I still returned periodically.

He remained part of why I was here.

More importantly, watching him apply things he had explained abstractly remained useful.

Someone accepted an economically unfavorable concession because preserving the relationship held greater expected value than the immediate loss.

Someone else rejected a minor concession despite the profit because granting it would establish a precedent whose future consequences mattered more.

A third spent nearly twenty minutes discussing subjects apparently unrelated to business before making what looked like their actual request during the final two minutes.

That one interested me.

Years ago, I would have considered the first eighteen minutes wasted.

Now...

Same eventual request.

Different [Foundation].

The conversation preceding it changed what the request meant.

Changed who was asking.

Changed why accepting it might feel reasonable.

An apt combination of social [Comprehension] and [Mastery].

I kept moving.

A logistics administrator explained which freight organizations had gained relevance after a recent expansion near the Everwell Realm Rift.

A banker corrected one of my assumptions regarding several Court-affiliated funds.

A six-winged fairy investor recognized Edmundo's name before mine and spent several minutes explaining why she considered one of his recent decisions needlessly conservative.

I remembered the criticism.

A representative of an academic supply organization mentioned three Academies whose research purchases had increased sharply during the previous year.

Two names I knew.

One I didn't.

A Court-connected mediator described a dispute while carefully omitting every identifying detail.

Even those omissions provided [Knowledge] concerning what she considered sensitive, though.

A very old arboreal who moved using strange [Ether] devices eventually asked why I kept taking notes.

"I'm not."

"You've been looking at people like you're writing."

That was new.

"I'm remembering."

"Everything?"

"No."

"How much?"

I considered providing an approximate percentage.

[Guided] recommended against it.

"A lot."

"That sounds ominous."

"Only if you say something worth remembering."

It laughed.

Then introduced itself.

Another name.

Another relationship.

Another point within my expanding [Foundation].

The conversations I only overheard mattered too.

Organizations.

People repeatedly referenced despite being absent.

Appointments.

Properties.

Rumors.

Disputes.

Old scandals whose context I lacked.

Projects beginning.

Projects failing.

And, just as importantly...

Who cared enough to mention them.

Information didn't simply exist in conversations.

Someone chose to communicate it.

To specific people.

At a particular moment.

For some [Purpose].

Sometimes I understood that [Purpose].

Sometimes [Guided] could offer likely interpretations through the sheer [Knowledge] I accumulated.

Sometimes neither of us knew.

Those were worth remembering most.

Eventually, the gathering began to empty.

By then, I had exchanged more than perfunctory introductions with several dozen people.

Not all would remember me.

Not all mattered.

Some I presently considered important would probably become irrelevant once I understood Everwell Prime better.

That was expected.

My [Purpose] hadn't been to leave with several dozen intimate relationships.

I left with names.

Faces.

Introductions.

Permission to contact several people directly.

Two invitations.

One offer to access a private collection of old financial records once I had read the publicly available material surrounding them.

A recommendation for an Entity researching the long-term economic consequences of Realm Rift travel fluctuation and its impact on logistical and exploitation efficiency.

Several corrected assumptions about Everwell Prime's commercial structures.

And, judging by how many times my [Awareness] caught some variation of "Who is she?" after I departed a conversation...

A little more recognition attached to my name and appearance than when I arrived.

Enough.

I found Edmundo near one of the exits.

"How badly did I do?"

He looked at me.

"You're asking that after wandering around without me for most of the gathering?"

"Yes."

"You didn't offend anyone important enough for me to hear about it."

"An encouraging standard."

"You asked too many questions."

"I always do."

"You already know that."

"Then it isn't useful criticism."

He looked at me for a moment.

"You still make it obvious when you've decided a conversation stopped being useful."

Several examples surfaced immediately.

"Maybe?"

"That's the problem. Most people prefer not knowing exactly when you stop caring."

"I didn't stop caring. I determined another conversation had greater expected value."

He rolled his eyes.

"That sentence is why I'm telling you this."

I stored the correction.

"Anything else?"

"Later. Go home."

"You're going somewhere else?"

"Yes."

"Another gathering?"

"Dinner."

"That sounds remarkably similar."

"It isn't."

"Why?"

He stared at me.

Then laughed.

No invitation followed.

Fair enough.

I left.

◇ ◈ ◈ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◈ ◈ ◇

Less than an hour later, I safely returned to Lylily Tower.

The route home would once have occupied most of my [Flow]-related attention by itself.

Now, my [Awareness] perceived too much familiarity in it.

Thousands of independent movements crossed one another throughout Everwell Prime.

Flying Entities.

Transit vehicles.

Freight.

Air [Flow]s shaped by enormous structures.

Heat.

Traffic streams dividing around obstacles before converging elsewhere.

Nothing about them became perfectly predictable.

Too many variables.

Too many Entities capable of suddenly changing their behavior because they remembered something, received information, noticed someone, or simply chose differently.

Yet their broader [Flow]s had become increasingly legible.

Dense traffic built one extensive [Flow] along one route.

Later arrivals diverted toward another.

A transport platform displaced massive air [Flow].

Nearby flyers adjusted.

Those adjustments changed the circumstances encountered by everyone behind them.

Inside Lylily Tower, months of observation had made its immense vertical corridors even easier.

Duty changes.

School periods.

Commercial peaks.

Maintenance closures.

Court events.

Children emerging from supervised programs.

One corridor thickened.

Another emptied.

Thousands of individual [Purpose]s became aggregate [Flow]s none of the people composing them had designed.

My own body was simpler still.

Blood.

Heat.

Energy.

Wisps of [Vitality].

My physiological [Cultivation] [Cycle].

My [Awareness] could follow pressure changes through vessels I once couldn't have meaningfully distinguished.

Physical [Exertion]s increased demand.

Blood redistributed.

Heat accumulated.

My physiological [Cultivation] [Cycle] compensated.

[Vitality] moved according to structures I had spent years acquiring [Comprehension] of before optimizing them through my [Cultivation].

Not that it made everything perfectly predictable either.

But it was close enough that the difference between my present [Comprehension] of those [Flow]s and what I possessed when I first started studying the concept and formed my Aspect was like the Red Sand Sector and the Everwell Sector.

By the time I reached my residential floor, another fact had become more important.

My overdevelopment safety margin had recovered acceptably.

The gathering was finished.

So was this particular period of imposed idleness.

Thus, I entered my room.

Removed my social skinweave.

Cleaned the cosmetics from my face.

Stored my hair ornaments.

Put on my [Cultivation] bodysuit.

Considered replacing it, as it was really becoming extensively damaged.

Decided not to do so yet.

A quarter of an hour later, I landed on one of those special spots one could only find through extensive exploration of secluded spaces within the tower, giving me an incredible view of so much taking place within one social confluence location and one of the commercial floors.

Then, without wasting time manufacturing some artificial distinction between one portion of my existence and the next...

I [Flow]ed directly into my [Cultivation] routine.

[Flow].

[Foundation].

[Purpose].

Today's emphasis belonged to my [Flow] Aspect.

I started with air.

One wingbeat carried me upward.

Another accelerated me.

Turn.

Decelerate.

Reverse.

My movements displaced the air around me.

My [Awareness] followed the consequences.

Pressure changed against my wings.

My wake continued behind me.

Its [Flow] scattered everywhere.

Split.

Returned.

Interfered with currents generated by later movements.

I adjusted before one returning disturbance reached me.

It intersected my next wingbeat close to where I expected.

Again.

Faster.

More complicated.

My direct surroundings filled with trailing [Flow]s until my own flight existed inside a constantly changing environment created largely by my previous [Exertion]s.

Then I landed.

My [Will] took over.

A narrow [Flow] formed before me.

Circular.

Simple.

Months earlier, keeping it coherent would have required continuous imposition.

Move.

Turn.

Maintain.

Correct.

Keep the structure from dispersing into the surrounding air.

Now...

I established a suitable starting state.

Enough force.

A sufficiently efficient curve.

Pressure arranged so that the [Flow] naturally continued into itself.

Then I ceased to impose my [Will].

Yet the [Flow] I created persisted.

One rotation.

Another.

When external interference transpired, I intervened with a tiny correction.

Another rotation.

The energy expenditure was so small compared to my earliest attempts that measuring it accurately required more [Focus] than maintaining the [Flow] itself.

Eventually, I stopped correcting it.

The [Flow] continued for a while longer before friction and disturbances gradually broke it apart.

Then I repeated the whole exercise from the beginning.

Less [Will].

Same result.

Again.

Different orientation.

Again.

Two [Flow]s.

They intersected.

One destabilized the other.

I altered the weaker one's approach.

The relationship changed as predicted.

Again.

My [Awareness] observed.

My accumulated [Comprehension] predicted.

My [Mastery] applied.

And my [Will] increasingly only supplied what the naturally unfolding [Flow] couldn't.

That distinction had become fundamental.

I wasn't improving merely by becoming better at forcing [Flow]s into existence.

I was becoming good enough at understanding them that less force was necessary.

A suitable initial condition could accomplish more than continuous correction.

The most efficient [Flow] wasn't one whose every movement I commanded.

It was one that reality continued carrying approximately where I wanted after my intervention diminished or ceased.

I had understood that conceptually for some time.

Now I could reproduce it almost effortlessly.

I let the air [Flow] settle.

Then turned inward.

Blood.

My heart contracted.

Pressure propagated.

Blood [Flow]ed.

Divided.

Returned.

My [Awareness] followed not every individual portion, but the [Flow] itself.

Where it came from.

Where it went.

What divided it.

What resisted it.

Why one region received more than another.

Then heat.

Then the circulation patterns maintained by my physiological [Cycle].

Then [Vitality].

A faint amount of golden [Vitality] entered my blood without any meaningful injury requiring it.

I observed how it traveled.

How living structures drew upon it.

How some routes naturally received more.

How movement changed after the surrounding state changed.

Different [Flow]s.

Different rules.

Yet the questions had become familiar.

Where did this [Flow] originate?

Where did it go?

Why?

What sustained it?

What redirected it?

What did it change?

And what did those changes cause next?

Next.

My [Focus] remained on that last question.

What came next.

One heartbeat drove the next stage of circulation.

One redistribution altered what subsequent circulation encountered.

The [Flow] of air I had created persisted because its previous state created the conditions of the next.

One state became another.

A progression.

A [Flow].

I moved my hand.

An [Exertion].

Muscles contracted.

Another.

My shoulder adjusted.

Another.

My torso compensated.

Another.

My hand stopped.

The sequence did not.

The decision to move had itself arisen from the question I had been pursuing.

Which emerged from observing the [Flow] of [Vitality].

Which followed blood.

Which followed air.

Which followed flight.

One [Exertion] leading into another.

Physical.

Mental.

Conceptual.

I raised my hand again.

Slower.

An [Exertion] did not need to be arduous.

I had learned that lesson long before synthesizing away the old Aspect carrying the name of its concept.

An [Exertion] was an application of effort.

A wingbeat.

A calculation.

A question.

A deliberate act of [Focus].

A manifestation of [Will].

Each [Exertion] changed something.

And whatever it changed became part of the circumstances from which the next [Exertion] proceeded.

A [Flow] of [Exertion]s.

This [Insight] settled deep within my [Comprehension] as the entire weight of the structure holding my [Knowledge] came to bear on it, [Guided] to do so by my Origin Aspect.

My earliest existence had already followed it.

[Warmth].

[Cold].

Struggle.

Recover.

Move.

Fail.

Try again.

Every [Exertion] created the conditions encountered by the next one.

My later physical [Exertion] routines only made the structure more deliberate.

Exert.

Recover.

Repeat from a body no longer identical to the one that began the previous [Cycle].

My mental development worked no differently.

Observe.

Question.

Remember.

Compare.

Comprehend.

Apply.

Every mental [Exertion] altered the mind carrying out the next.

And my [Cultivation]...

Of course.

It was evidence itself.

My [Cultivation] was a [Flow].

It always had been.

I never truly carried out one isolated [Cultivation] and then another unrelated one.

I attempted something.

The result altered the next attempt.

[Guided] retained the experience.

[Clarity] distinguished.

[Comprehension] integrated what I had learned.

[Mastery] made successful applications increasingly reproducible.

[Foundation] preserved what deserved to remain.

Then the next [Exertion] began from everything the previous ones had created.

One [Cultivation] [Exertion] brought about another.

Then another.

Ceaselessly.

A [Flow] of [Exertion]s.

A [Flow] of [Cultivation].

Just like what I was doing now.

I had settled here.

Flown.

Observed.

Manifested a [Flow].

Reduced its cost through optimization and experimentation.

Turned inward.

Followed my blood [Flow].

Followed my [Vitality] [Flow].

Followed cause into consequence.

And arrived here.

This [Comprehension] hadn't appeared separately from everything preceding it.

It was what everything preceding it [Flow]ed into.

My Essence reacted.

The response wasn't violent.

My [Flow] Aspect simply began changing beneath the weight of something it had apparently become ready to embody.

I entered deeper communion.

The external world faded from my [Awareness], turning blurry and indistinct.

My [Flow] Aspect did not.

Months of accumulated [Comprehension] remained behind the advancement.

Water [Flow]ing after the movement that initiated it ended.

Air.

Blood.

Heat.

Crowds.

Traffic.

Credits.

Information.

Development moving through my Essence...

My [Awareness] had grown capable of tracking increasingly complicated [Flow] dynamics and predicting portions of what their present states would become.

My [Mastery] had progressed from allowing me to crudely [Will] [Flow]s into existence to establishing [Flow]s that could sustain themselves for meaningful periods at almost negligible cost.

And now another [Comprehension] joined them.

[Exertion] itself [Flow]ed.

My [Cultivation] [Flow]ed.

Progress didn't consist of isolated steps placed beside one another.

Each step changed what the next could be.

The advancement continued.

I observed.

There was little else worth doing.

Eventually...

Aspect Advanced: [Flow] (Tier 0) ➞ [Flow] (Tier 1)

My [Flow] Aspect settled.

Tier 1.

And the difference became obvious almost immediately.

My internal [Flow]s grew clearer.

Not simpler.

Not unified beneath some convenient universal law.

Just clearer.

Their origins.

Destinations.

Causes.

The structures directing them.

The pressures sustaining them.

The reasons they split.

The reasons they ended.

The consequences left behind after they did.

I surfaced enough from communion to raise one hand.

Golden [Vitality] emerged.

I [Will]ed it into a narrow [Flow] through my forearm.

Before, I could already accomplish that.

My [Vitality] had moved through my body for years.

Blood could carry it.

My [Will] could direct it.

My [Mastery] could shape its application.

Now, however, the [Flow] itself became easier to parse.

Where it began.

Why it followed one route instead of another.

Where surrounding structures resisted it.

Where it naturally broadened.

Where it concentrated.

Where it would continue if I stopped imposing upon it.

I gradually ceased imposing my [Will] onto its [Flow].

My [Vitality] continued [Flow]ing.

A minor adjustment near the origin propagated forward.

The [Flow] split slightly farther along.

One region received less.

Another more.

Approximately as I expected.

I reversed the change.

The correction [Flow]ed through the structure.

I repeated the exercise several times.

Then I did it with my blood.

Then with air.

Different mediums.

Different rules.

Different [Flow]s.

Yet each had become a little easier to understand and handle according to what made it what it was.

A fitting [Foundation] for what should come next.

Tier 2.

According to everything I had studied and everything I had personally uncovered since forming the Aspect, Tier 1 remained insufficient for the objective that actually mattered.

But Tier 2...

That was where I presently expected my [Comprehension] and [Mastery] of [Flow] to become sufficient to attempt the most primitive form of deliberate Essence [Flow] [Cultivation].

I would not yet redirect enough overdevelopment to solve anything.

Neither would I safely manipulate every current inside my Essence.

But I would be capable of getting started.

I would finally be able to interact with my Essence's [Flow]s deliberately instead of being limited to observing the consequences of development moving through structures I couldn't yet properly affect.

One more advancement.

One more threshold.

I inspected my Tier 1 [Flow] Aspect.

Another step toward shattering the shackles restraining the development of my Essence.

Good.

Like that, I ended my [Cultivation].

Continuing merely because I had just advanced would achieve nothing except consuming more of the safety margin the advancement had already reduced.

I had observed enough.

Tested enough.

Recorded enough.

My Essence once again needed time.

Which meant my idle time once again required optimization.

I returned to my room.

Changed.

Packed three empty notebooks.

Considered their likely inadequacy.

Packed a fourth.

Then left Lylily Tower again.

Several weeks ago, one of the retired fairies connected to me through an increasingly convoluted chain of introductions had finally granted me access to a private archive I had wanted to visit since first learning it existed.

Not Path journals.

Not Aspect research.

Not ancient sealed [Knowledge].

Newspapers.

Thousands upon thousands of old newspapers dedicated exclusively to what had happened within Everwell Prime.

Politics.

Business.

Crime.

Construction.

Appointments.

Closures.

Disputes.

Celebrations.

Failures.

Organizations rising.

People becoming relevant.

People ceasing to be.

Decades upon decades of Civilization recording whatever someone had once considered worth reporting, as it would in turn produce sales and profits for the organization handling the mass dissemination of [Knowledge].

My Essence could recover while I read.

So...

Newspapers.