Mae-Ying Allen ~ 3-19-2029 10:43 AM GMT

The garden is vast, full of flowering plants, though most haven't come into full bloom yet. There are rows upon rows of barren rose bushes interspersed with hellebore and edelweiss. Niva is standing near the center of the garden, in front of a dry fountain, her arms folded under her breasts. 

Mae-Ying approaches her at a casual pace, her hands in her pockets. “How are you doing today?”

"I am annoyed,” Niva says. “But it is not your fault."

“I see.” Mae-Ying says. “I'll do my best not to make this a chore for either of us."

Niva turns to face her. "I will not complain over the tasks I am assigned to do. I will be teaching you most things. What I do not know or am not skilled at, I will seek another to teach you. You may ask questions, but do not interrupt me when I am speaking."

"All right."

"We will begin. What creed do you follow?"

"You mean religion, or...?"

Niva nods.

"Oh. I don't have one."

Niva’s mouth flattens. "You are an atheist?"

"No."

"So you lack conviction."

Mae-Ying gives Niva a polite smile. She doesn’t want to get into a drawn out discussion over the ethics of agnosticism, especially not with this woman. Better to force her to move on.

"Then I will have to begin at the beginning," Niva says. "Before there was the world, there was only light, the limitless being of the Authority. And when the Authority made a spot which was not itself, there was reality."

Mae-Ying has to force her face to stay neutral. If this thing is limitless, how can it limit itself? It seems nonsensical. Nevertheless, she nods and focuses hard, trying to commit Niva’s story to memory.

"The Authority sent its power down into the space which was not it, filtering it through myriad lenses, speaking the world into being,” Niva says. “But these first lenses were flawed...”

Mae-Ying’s mind rifts, without intention. It’s not usual for her to have such a hard time focusing, it’s just that the metaphysics Niva’s talking about seemS slippery, and too abstract, too pat. She wants to object to a thousand different, small things. What is this light? Why would the Authority, which Mae-Ying supposes must be God, even bother with all of this? Why would the Authority need these lenses? None of it makes sense and she can’t think of how to apply it to her situation, in any case, and she’s getting bored.

Niva finally gives up, sighing irritably. She rakes a hand through her long, thick hair.  Mae-Ying looks up at her placidly, unwilling to admit how annoyed and stultified she feels. 

"Do you know how to meditate?"

“Sure. I meditate all the time.”

“Then I will show you the practical parts and we can fill in philosophy another time.” Niva points at the gravel path. "Sit."

Mae-Ying sits down. The path is cold and the stones poke painfully into her legs and butt, but she doesn’t complain.

"The light of the Authority comes in different forms to different kinds of Initiate,” Niva says. “For us, it is the Law: words, the literal letters which are carried by the Host throughout the cosmos and planes.”

“Okay…”

“You will meditate to understand this. Begin by picking a word--any word. Permute the letters in your head. Form new words from them. Remove letters and add new ones. Continue to do this until I say to stop."

Mae-Ying picks the word ‘hellebore’. She permutes the word over and over in her head, running through the alphabet, backwards and forwards. Certain forms and letters seem to glow in her mind as she progresses, and regarding their mental images, she begins to feel giddy. Her head swims and she finds herself swaying back and forth, almost unconsciously. The glowing words become words of fire, seemingly random assortments of consonants and vowels, blazing brighter and brighter--

Niva puts a hand on Mae-Ying’s head. The glowing stabilizes, then dies back. She looks down at Mae-Ying with something approaching approval.

"The light seeks to press into all places,” Niva says. “The first mirrors were destroyed because they were too permissive. You are now a mirror for the light, the light which is reflected by the words themselves. If you allow it to, it will destroy you. It will eat into your mind and drive you to madness."

"O-okay," Mae-Ying says, alarmed.

Niva sits down on the edge of the fountain. "It is like water. Water in pipes. The pipes which are tighter make the flow have more pressure, but if the pressure becomes too great, the pipes after the tight ones can burst under it. The words are very tight pipes. When you begin to use the light, it is like you have turned on a faucet inside yourself, with very great pressure behind it. Throw open the faucet too far and you will be flooded with the light beyond your capacity to contain it."

Mae-Ying nods. “I think I understand. What would happen if I… burst?”

“The others, they call it ‘backlash’, but I think ‘bursting’ or ‘rupturing’ is more precise. The Light would flood into your mind, possibly even your brain. In your mind, unfocused, uncontrolled, it would break down your thoughts and your ability to control them. In your brain it would cause physical harms. In the worst cases, you would die.”

Mae-Ying stares at her, and swallows.

"For now, the safest path is the letters,” Niva says. “Soon you will learn other techniques, shortcuts, to bring the light up within you in certain forms. You must resist the urge to experiment, however. To do so could overwhelm you with power."

“That’s fine,” Mae-Ying says. “I’m good with boundaries.”

Niva nods. "Good. Now begin to meditate on the letters again. When you find a form or permutation which begins to glow, focus on it. Attempt to hold it in your mind."

Mae-Ying closes her eyes and concentrates. She reaches the glowing letters more quickly this time, as though they are trying to find their way through the permutations she's running, nudging her down lines of thinking that lead to them. Once she’s grabbed onto the glowing letters, they swim in front of her mind's eye. It's difficult to hold them as they are. Her brain seems slippery, wanting to continue adding or removing letters. Little itches on her skin, the poking gravel, and the cold all threaten to break her focus, but she sets her jaw and keeps concentrating.

"Good,” Niva says. “Continue holding the letters and open your eyes."

Mae-Ying does so. The world around her is transformed--all things, but most especially the plants, seem wreathed in scintillating light. The aura of the gravel is deep green, low to the ground, almost blending with the shadows. The flowers and bushes run through a riotous spectrum of oranges and reds. Niva’s aura is hard around her like a powerful line, ice-blue, like sunlight shining through glacier ice. Mae-Ying can feel herself slipping into that cold, solid world of crystalline order--

She gives a start. The word slips out of her mind; the strange lights all wink out.

"You saw my aura?" Niva asks.

“I think so…”

"What color did you see?"

“Around you? Light blue...”

Niva frowns. "You saw colors around other things also?"

"Yeah, all kinds of oranges and reds around the plants, and green on the ground..."

Niva’s eyebrows rise. "That is very good. I knew you were strong, but even so..."

"Really? Okay. Good." Mae-Ying’s legs are starting to ache and the gravel feels like it’s about to puncture her skin. She hopes Niva will have her go on to some other exercise.

"We will continue practicing now," Niva says.

Mae-Ying nods, suppressing a sigh.