40. Patriarch

  “Thank you for the tea, Mai Mai,” Di Phon said with a smile as he sipped the nectar of the gods. “You say that this was grown on Atla?”

  “Yes, it’s very surprising but the seeds that I brought with me have already reached maturity. It seems that Atla has been giving them a large part of his or her attention, and they’re absolutely thriving! With the private Waygate that Little Bug installed in the Di Compound, I am able to check on them every day. This is the first time I have had anyone try it, though. I wanted to get your opinion before serving it to Little Bug,” the woman answered.

  Di Phon smiled. “You have grown so much since I first met you. I am so pleased that I was allowed to bring you out of that stifling environment where you first sprouted and see you blossom here on Atla. You are such a beautiful flower, Mai Mai. If it is not too presumptuous, I would ask that you allow me to think of you as my daughter.”

  She blushed, then inclined her head. “If that is why you were unable to fulfill my shameless requests before then I—”

  “You were acting within the lines of reasoning that you were conditioned to think in,” he said, cutting off that train of thought. “But yes, I have from the beginning thought that such a relationship would be improper for us. I am centuries older than you. I think that it would be improper for me to court anyone who can use two digits to express their age.”

  “So the problem is that I was too young?” she asked, sounding relieved. “And none other?”

  “There were many problems,” Di Phon said, “but none of them were your fault. You are lovely, and it brings me joy in my heart to see you happy. That you found it with Little Bug is serendipitous and a matter to be celebrated. And if you are my daughter, then I am to have a grandchild before long, which is another matter to celebrate.”

  “Yes,” Mai Mai agreed, a smile on her face. “And the tea? How is it? Is it much worse than what I served before?”

  “It tastes of home and happiness,” Di Phon answered. “This cup of tea is the best I have ever tasted in my very long life. If it is not too much trouble, I would ask that you come by from time to time to serve me another.”

  “It would be my pleasure,” Mai Mai agreed. “If you approve of it, I can’t wait to see Little Bug’s reaction!”

  “Tell me, how is he doing these days?”

  “He’s very … Little Bug. I can tell that he mostly deals with others through his avatars. It is very easy to spot his true self since his tribulation, since it has golden veins. His avatars do not,” she said. She smiled sadly. “I could tell the difference even before. It makes sense that he would keep me at arms length during the pregnancy, but I worry for what this means about our daughter getting to know her father.”

  “Her? You know that it is a girl?” Di Phon inquired.

  “Atla says so, and apparently he’s the expert on these things. They’re literally building statues for him now. Except that the statues are of Taimei for some reason. She was so flustered when she found out!”

  The gossip continued for some time before Mai Mai had to return to Resh Fali, leaving Di Phon behind. He smiled, smelling the fragrance of the dregs of his tea before washing the cup himself. Then he noted the time, and he stepped outside, then floated over to the courtyard where the juniors of the sect were assembling.

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  Sixty young men and women were in attendance, all on the silver path. These were young people attempting to form their identity cores, which was a requirement in order to step onto the golden path.

  It wasn’t the only requirement, but without a proper identity core, the powers involved in ascending to that height would rip a person to shreds.

  To his surprise, he saw a gold ranked man among them, but he did not comment on it further.

  He examined the students in silence for several moments, noting the various ways that they looked at him. He had proven his power in the duel against Tyrantus, and none of them questioned his right to hold this lecture. The emotions on display were mixed and many, ranging from curiosity, excitement, and nervousness to boredom and apathy. Although why someone would be apathetic to a lesson that they had to pay six hundred contribution points to attend was beyond him.

  “To begin with, a pair of statements. There is one true dao. There is no true Dao,” he began. “If you think you understand this contradiction, then you are both right and wrong, for every layer of understanding reveals a new layer of the contradiction. The dao of strength above might have been right while you lived on Majeesha. It allowed you to rise in station and reach new heights. Does this mean that this same Dao will hold true on Atla? Let us begin the discussion. You there, what is your dao?”

  The young woman he pointed at blinked in surprise, then she began to stutter something about the strength of the wind being capable of breaking rocks and shattering bones.

  “Wrong,” Di Phon said. “That is but a technique you are attempting to master. Do not confuse your techniques with your daos. If you master you daos, your techniques will naturally be empowered if they align with your dao, and your dao if it aligns with your technique. If you are struggling to learn a technique, you must ask yourself, ‘is it me? Is it the technique? Or am I stepping onto the wrong path?’ Tell me, have you been able to shatter rocks and bones with the power of your wind?”

  The woman blushed and admitted that she could not.

  “Then perhaps that is not your dao. But that is not why I said that you were wrong. You were wrong because you are uncertain. If breaking wind were your true dao, then you would not be hesitant to say so.”

  There were a few chuckles at his minor joke, and he allowed himself an indulgent smile. “Now then, we shall spend some time getting to know each other. We have two hours, and then we shall meet again next week for another two hours, and every week after that until none of you are left, as all of you have either abandoned the golden path or stepped upon it. This is my commitment to you. Let us speak about your commitment to me. You there, what do you bring to this class?”

  The young man he pointed at looked startled, then looked around. “I wasn’t aware that we were expected to bring anything. I already paid the contribution—”

  “You, what do you bring?” he pointed to another young man.

  “I brought a sandwich,” the man admitted, pulling it from one of his pockets. It was wrapped in a handkerchief.

  “Thank you, I was hungry. I’ve just had the best cup of tea in my life, but something to fill the belly would be wonderful,” Di Phon said, smiling as the young man came forward and handed it to him.

  He took a bite, and he continued to ask each student what they brought him.

  Finally, he got the answer.

  “I brought nothing but what you see before you,” the young woman answered. “Myself.”

  “Excellent answer,” he praised, before moving right on to the next person. It took a few moments for his praise to be noticed by the others, but by the end of the class they understood.

  Or they did not, for the next class was filled with sandwiches. He sighed. Perhaps he was not cut out to be a teacher after all.

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