After being ordered to rest for the entire day yesterday, my body now feels incredibly healthy and refreshed.
Although my physique feels exceptionally healthy, my mind is in utter chaos.
I thought I would be scolded for skipping yesterday, especially considering my teacher arrived furious and even destroyed my door.
But apparently not. She didn't even try to bring up her anger from yesterday.
So, if you ask what she's doing today, she is sitting across from me with a table between us.
She is casually sipping tea from her cup, while in front of me, there is no tea, only that worn-out book.
"What's wrong? Hurry up and read the book," said my teacher, seeming to notice my lack of focus. "And remember, don't you dare try to open page 000. I've already placed a sealing spell on it, so don't try to force it open," she continued with that prohibition.
"Alright, I'll try," I replied casually. This wasn't meant to be disrespectful or anything; it's just that my teacher dislikes things that are too stiff or formal.
I started from the page, or Chronicle 001, with the following content:
APPELLATION: Decarya
TITLE / EPHITET: Architect of the Crossroads, The Plural Reality, The Living Work
CLASSIFICATION:
* Primer: Mythological
* Status: Active
* Scale: Cosmic (Multi-versal)
* Level: Abstract
ORIGIN: Decarya was born from an event called the "Symphony of Possibility." It began with a single, mature universe—known as the Universitas Princeps or the "Anchor Universe"—which became so dense with potential and branching fates that it "birthed" nine perfect reflections of itself. When these ten realities first resonated together, the echo of creation awakened a single consciousness that became the soul for them all: Decarya.
FORM / ESSENCE: Its essence is Interwoven Reality-Consciousness. Decarya does not possess a body, as the ten universes are its body. Its thoughts are the laws of physics, its breath is the flow of time, and its dreams are alternative timelines. Every event within its ten worlds is a part of its sensation and awareness.
APPEARANCE & PERCEPTION: Decarya's presence is not an "appearance," but a "glitch" or disturbance in the local fabric of reality. You would perceive it as a moment of total disorientation, where logic surrenders. The cup on your table might feel cold one second and boiling hot the next, filled with coffee from another universe. Your shadow might detach from your body and wave with the wrong number of fingers. It is an experience of existential vertigo, a brief and terrifying awareness that your world is merely one of ten notes in a cosmic song.
DOMAIN & INFLUENCE: Decarya is an artist whose medium is reality itself. Its domain is causal engineering. It constantly "tinkers" with its work by moving, merging, or swapping elements between its ten universes. It might move an ocean from a drowning world to a parched one, or grant the memories of a hero from one universe to a coward in another just to see what happens. Its influence is neither malicious nor benevolent; it is purely experimental and artistic.
VULNERABILITIES & COUNTERMEASURES: Its immense power is bound by three fundamental laws it cannot break:
The Principle of Essence Conservation: It cannot create or destroy matter, energy, or souls. It is merely a brilliant rearranger, not a true creator.
The Reality Fulcrum: Its entire existence depends on the stability of the Universitas Princeps (The Anchor Universe). A paradox or collapse within this core universe would cause a total unraveling of the other nine, as well as Decarya's consciousness.
The Schism of Consciousness: Its consciousness is split into ten facets that sometimes clash. To make a drastic change, it requires an internal consensus. If its facets are arguing, it can be paralyzed by indecision, creating brief "lulls" where its influence wanes.
ECHOES IN HISTORY & MYTH: There is a myth of the "Eternal Blacksmith" who prayed to create the perfect sword. Decarya heard her prayer and "granted" it by merging the essence of the sword from ten realities into one. The result was a blade that existed in ten places at once, perfect yet impossible to hold, sharp yet unable to cut anything. The Blacksmith went mad trying to comprehend her own creation, a paradoxical artifact that stands as a monument to Decarya's power.
WHISPERS & FRAGMENTS OF KNOWLEDGE:
"Every choice you don't make is made by another 'you.' Decarya sees all of you, and sometimes, it gets bored with the same story."
"Glitches in reality—déjà vu, items disappearing and reappearing—those aren't mistakes. That is the echo of Decarya's breath as it moves something near you."
"Do not pray to it. You might not like how it 'fixes' your problem."
Scribe's Note: While transcribing this entity, a terrifying thought emerged: what if our reality, our entire history and destiny, is just one of Decarya's ten "canvases"? Perhaps we are just a sketch, a preliminary study. This feeling makes our existence seem profoundly fragile. We may not be the protagonists of our own story, but merely paint on a cosmic artist's palette.
After reading it down to the note, my teacher instructed me to always tell her when I finished reading a page.
"Finished? Okay, good. Now what did you read in there? What was that page about?" She asked while biting down on a cigarette in her mouth. The index finger on her other hand produced a flame to light it.
How practical. If only it were used for something more useful. I sighed heavily at my teacher's behavior. Smoking is not good, especially at her age.
Her expression changed as if she knew exactly what I was thinking right now.
"You're not talking about my age, are you?" She asked with her typical cunning smile.
I shook my head to deny it. A white lie is permissible, especially when it concerns one's own safety.
Answering her earlier question, I replied.
"Page 001 contains information about a figure or entity that is very difficult for me to understand, Teacher. I can't answer your question," I answered honestly. Because really, what could I understand when faced with something like a universe? What kind of creature is that? I wondered. Can it even be called a creature? And not just one, there are ten of them! Hahaha, how ridiculous.
After thinking that and casually labeling it 'ridiculous' in my mind, I felt something was missing. I felt a sudden coldness in a certain area.
To be sure, I tried to check with my hand, and sure enough, the item was gone. The cold I felt was because it wasn't there.
While I was confused about why it was missing, my teacher spoke.
"That's a natural reaction. Because we don't know if there truly is a universe that possesses consciousness, and then, if this world truly has a twin," she said, looking at me. It seemed she knew I wasn't listening to her right now.
"Are you listening to me?" she asked to make sure, her gaze sharp and observant.
"Yes, I hear you. Something about a twin," I replied randomly, based on the part I understood most easily, while my left hand was still trying to confirm the missing item.
She began again. "The chroniclers of the past claimed that Decarya indeed cannot be seen or its existence confirmed," she took a deep drag of her cigarette and continued, "but many things have happened that indicate Decarya exists. Like some legends or stories that tell of a large lake suddenly appearing in a desert, and it wasn't an illusion but a real oasis."
To look like I was listening, I tried to ask a random question. "What does that mean, Teacher?" My question wasn't really seeking an answer, as I was still searching for an answer to something else—why was that thing missing?
"It is a phenomenon produced by Decarya's experiments. Reality is its canvas," she answered, her hand propping up her chin. She observed me more closely in that position. "It can move water from another universe, or another part of its 'body', to another universe or 'body'."
The cigarette in her mouth had gone out. She tried to light it again while saying, "Not only that, Decarya is also said to be able to influence small things..." A thud interrupted her before she finished, and the cigarette in her mouth remained unlit.
The thudding sound came from me. One of the legs of the chair I was sitting on suddenly broke.
As a result, I fell backward with my skirt flying up, causing her eyes to widen and her to fail to light her cigarette.
Oh crap, she saw it, I thought, feeling extremely embarrassed.
"What are you doing? What's with your underwear? Quite daring, aren't you," my teacher asked. "Aren't you cold?"
I knew she must be teasing me. This all had to be her doing—making it disappear and then breaking my chair.
"It wasn't me," she said, as if she could really read my mind. "It was probably the doing of what you just read." She used her magic to lift me and the broken chair.
"What do you mean, Teacher? It wasn't you who did it? So you're saying this was all Decarya's doing?" I asked while fixing my position. The chair I was using had been repaired by her using magic.
"Then who else? I really didn't do it. Besides, why would I only make your underwear disappear when I could make all your clothes vanish?" She denied it with her hand on her chin, her face tilted, not looking at me.
She's annoyed because I accused her. Turns out she can get annoyed too. But what about her statement that she could make everything vanish? That made me feel I needed to be more careful with my words around her.
She then told me to "go back to the dormitory, get your underwear and put it on." She was still annoyed; she didn't even look at me when she said it.
"Fine." I walked towards the dormitory, but it wasn't easy. Many strange phenomena occurred, like the stairs kept adding steps, as if every step I took wasn't taking me up.
And what was worse, was when I opened my room door. What lay behind the door was not my room, but a desert with a large lake in the middle.
Damn, this is starting to get real. Where is my room? I tried closing the door and opening it again, only to find its contents changed to another place.
My room door led to a forest, a royal throne room, or a noblewoman's luxurious bath. I kept trying until I finally found my room again.
I went in and opened the wardrobe and saw several of my clothes were missing, replaced by beautiful gowns like those of a noblewoman or even a queen.
I could see all sorts of forms and variations of underwear, from the very thin, fishnets, to ones that were just a string.
What a strange collection. Do noblewomen really wear this? I felt disgusted. Don't they get cold wearing this? I thought as I grabbed one of the pairs.
There was no choice; it seemed I had to wear one of them. Alright, I would choose one that was more normal, or one with more fabric.
After putting it on, I left the room and passed the other Chronicler who came to my room yesterday.
We passed on the stairs; she wanted to go up while I was going down, and she greeted me, "How are you? Is your teacher watching over you?" she asked.
"Ah, thank you, Teacher, for worrying about my condition. My teacher is always watching me." I wasn't lying about the supervision, because I saw a bird that was always following me from behind the window.
"That's good. My advice is to be careful with your words, hahaha..." She said that, then laughed and just left.
Well, she's right. Despite her appearance, my teacher is a very powerful mage; I have to be careful.
I resumed my previously halted steps. I set foot on the first stair, and the staircase immediately turned into a slide. Damn it! I slipped and slid all the way down.
A loud thud echoed from the bottom of the stairs that had turned into a slide. Yes, that sound was caused by my buttocks colliding with the terrace below.
Dammit, that hurts. I was sure my teacher was laughing her head off right now.
I got up and walked back, seeing her in the distance, casually smoking. She was done laughing.
When I got there, I sat on the chair, only to hear my teacher laugh and say, "I didn't know your taste in underwear was so aggressive."
"That's not mine! That stuff was just there, and some of my clothes were missing, replaced with clothes like that." I slammed the table to deny it.
"Yeah... yeah, I know that. But it seems to fit, and you like it, right? Because if not, you wouldn't be wearing it."
I was a little annoyed, but it was fine, because I felt comfortable wearing it. But that doesn't mean I like it; comfort and liking are different things.
Okay, back to the previous discussion. I've had enough of all this. "So is it true there are ten universes, or Decarya's ten bodies?" I asked. I couldn't take it anymore and wanted to end the discussion of page 001 Decarya quickly.
My teacher stood up, her robes fluttering in the wind. "Yes, that is true. But for us, it is impossible to prove or even traverse all ten."
I looked at her with admiration at that moment. She looked so amazing as her robes billowed in the wind.
"In conclusion, not everything needs to be proven to exist, because even the dreams in your sleep cannot be proven. Only the one who experiences it knows what it's like."
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a cigarette, placed it on her lips, and lit it. "You could say you dreamed of being a queen, but there is no proof you actually dreamed that, right?"
My teacher continued speaking while I kept staring at her with admiration. I wondered if someone like me was even worthy of being her student.
"Sometimes we just need to accept something without questioning it."