“The conjurer, it can be said, is a good deceiver, or is it the deceiver, that can be easily conjured?”
“Part of the job,” Lolan replies, as she flicks away what look like spec of dust, which looks flesh colored, from the hem of her skirt.
“Ah, yes. And?” Deva asks.
“A little bit bored…” She sips from her tea again. “...This broken incorporated world, still requires hacks into mainframes. And those hacks are of course are always human, our defects are keys into systems. Artificial Intelligence flaws, are of course our flaws.”
“Imperfection…” The aging master lifts his left hand, and in a clenched horizontal fist, he tightens his grip. “...When it is too tight, gripping onto the idealism that the computer systems would automate everything, make life easier for human beings, it was this over reliance of structure. That caused the collapse…” He opens his hand, into an open palm. “...To be open, accept flaws and its imperfections is the cultivation of perfection. But, it can never be attained. In the end, we would fall, but not as hard.”
Lolan nods, as she has heard Deva express a similar analogy about the downfall of humanity many times before. “And they barely got up from this one.”
“True, but do you care?” Deva sips his tea again, as he studies Lolan’s reaction.
“No, I don’t...” Lolan replies, yet does not blink. “...But, I do thank you for the meditation you taught to me, of knowing perception without being consumed by its sentiment. It has helped, perfect the ability…” Lolan also sips from her tea again. “….To conjure.”
Leaning forward, Deva places the ceramic tea cup down on the polished stone top, he leans back into his chair, interlocking his fingers, while resting them onto his chest. To which Lolan observes his movements.
“And what is it, you require now?”
“The concept of time,” Lolan replies.
“Of a future, or its past?
“The past”
The aging master smiles, aware of Lolan’s narrow precognitive abilities, and how she can gauge interaction before its action, but only within a short duration of time. “Of what timeline?” He asks.
“I haven’t decided as yet”
“But, you do know Xana, that end has already occurred,” Deva says.
“Yes I am aware, we are at the end. Like so many times before, I’m curious after all these years, if there maybe a redefining on this ***end. As you know, I can detect a movement before a move, with only the slightest sentiment, …” She points with her left index finger at the man sitting opposite her. “… and the narrowest of interactions.”
“So I believe, and I hear, that makes you an exceptional lover...” Deva leans forward, and lifts his cup. “...The tea, has gone cold.”
“I could read into that…” She also leans forward, lifting her cup, which is still warm, aware of the wise master’s play of words. She sips from her cup. “...So, I guess there would be no temptation.”
Deva closes his eyes, and nods in a calm and meditative manner. “Enticement, is of a memory attached to a desire. What do you seek Xana?”
“An understanding, of my past.”
Why? A person is defined by their actions, not of their past lives...” Lolan opens his eyes. “...You are indeed a conjurer Xana. Do you feel you have reached your end?”
Lolan looks up at the high ceiling, admiring its bland and unrefined interior, over the years this space where Lolan resides has always been a source of inspiration for her, she then fixes her gaze onto the man sitting opposite her. “Maybe. I always thought that I lived within the sliver, between worlds, but now, after all these years, what I feel is there is only one world. Mine.”
“But, you did. To know the sliver you must live within it. The world that you were born into, was the realization of self knowledge that very few are granted insight too. And its study does not occur overnight, only through the years, that the wisdom is realized and then, like the burden of suffering, is released. That, Xana you have achieved...”
Lolan remains quite, listening to the wisdom of her former master.
“...You are, what you are, Xana.”
She nods in a resounding way. “I know, but I feel there still needs to be a completion. Before the end.”
Master Deva stands, as does Lolan.
He does not say anything, as Lolan turns and makes her way to the entrance. Without facing the man behind her, she enters the lift, as the doors close, with he left index finger she pushes the button for the ground floor, within a building set deep within the sub-levels of once grand city.
Exhaling, she watches the numbers slowly descend.
“I am, already at the end*,” she whispers to herself.**

___

Reading: "Previsions of future End" from COVEAL OF THE HEDONIC (A.Glass 2025)

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