Unintended Cultivator - Book 7: Chapter 10: Wisdom

Mindful of Fu Ruolan’s words, Sen relieved Glimmer of Night from watching over Liu Ai. Granted, it mostly involved telling the spider he didn’t need to stand at the girl’s door, but Sen found it relieving that she hadn’t been left entirely alone. That thought sparked more than a little guilt. He was so used to being responsible only for himself, that he’d fallen into that mindset immediately when he went searching for Falling Leaf and damned nine-tailed fox. Unlike Falling Leaf, Liu Ai couldn’t take care of herself. He hadn’t given it a single thought. He hadn’t truly left her alone, but he couldn’t simply expect Glimmer of Night to watch her all the time. The spider hadn’t taken responsibility for her, after all. I can’t run off like that anymore, thought Sen as watched the little girl sleeping for a moment. He was once more struck by how much bigger the scope of what he’d taken on really was compared to what he’d imagined.

“How was she?” Sen asked, turning his eyes away from the partially open door to the spider.

The spider looked at him with that unreadable expression. “Upset. Afraid.”

Sen nodded. “I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have left you here with her like that. It wasn’t fair to either of you. I won’t let it happen again.”

The spider shrugged. “The child is not offensive. Also, the nascent soul cultivator helped. She made food. Told stories.”

That surprised Sen. He tried to imagine Fu Ruolan being comforting and found it more than a little difficult to picture. However, the spider’s complete lack of incentive to lie gave the whole thing a certain air of truth. That meant Sen was doubly indebted to the woman for stepping in when he’d failed so spectacularly. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling. Sen eyed Glimmer of Night and wished he had a better sense of the spider. It wasn’t as though they had made any kind of formal agreement or spent a lot of time together. Truth be told, Sen had thought the transformed spider would just wander off one day.

“I can’t imagine this is what you expected when you came with me,” said Sen. “I doubt it’s what your Great Matriarch had in mind either. If you want to leave, I certainly won’t hold it against you.”

Glimmer of Night didn’t respond immediately. He looked at Sen for a time. Then, he looked through the door at Ai.

“I will stay,” said the spider.

Sen waited for some kind of elaboration that it became increasingly clear that the spider wasn’t going to provide.

“Any particular reason why?” prompted Sen.

That question was met with another protracted pause before Glimmer of Night finally said, “I was sent to learn. I am learning.”

“About what?” asked Sen.

“Humans. Cultivation. You.”

“And that’s enough?”

“The Great Matriarch must believe it is, so I believe it is.”

Sen thought that the spiders must have a very different relationship with their matriarch divine being than the one that humans had with their divine beings. He would have many doubts about the project if he’d found himself in Glimmer of Night’s position. He probably would have thought that some transcendent being was having a joke at his expense. The spider seemed perfectly content with his vague mission to seemingly tag along for Sen’s misadventures. Given that spiders were hunters by nature, he’d expected more aggression from his new companion. Yet, by all appearances, Glimmer of Night was at peace with the universe. I wish I was that comfortable with the state of things, thought Sen with more than a touch of envy.

“The Great Matriarch didn’t explain what she expected you to learn?” asked Sen, his curiosity piqued.

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“She did not.”

“And that doesn’t bother you? You didn’t want to know why she told you to come with me?”

Glimmer of Night tilted his head a little to one side in a gesture that Sen wanted to believe was confusion or thoughtfulness, but he just couldn’t tell. The spider’s answer didn’t particularly shed any light on the subject either.

“You ask many questions.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I mean humans. You ask many questions. The child asks many questions. The nascent soul cultivator asks many questions. It is as if you received no wisdom from your elders, as though you do not understand what you are. Spiders do not ask many questions. We know what we are. We receive wisdom from our elders. We trust that wisdom. The Great Matriarch says I am to learn. I don’t ask why she wishes me to learn. Even if she told me, I have no faith that I would understand her reasons. I am untempered by time,” said the spider, before shaking his head. “Young. You would say I am young. It is not for me to question the Great Matriarch. I simply trust that there is wisdom in what she asks of me. Before, you fought the corrupted beasts and angry spirits. You called down lightning touched by the heavens. Now, you learn of cultivation. You care for the child. I don’t ask why you do these things. I simply trust that there is wisdom to be gleaned from it.”

Sen had to work to keep his jaw from dropping. That was the most words he had ever heard come out of the spider’s mouth at one time. There was also a lot in those words. More than Sen could hope to understand without taking some time and really thinking them through. It was clear that Glimmer of Night enjoyed a profoundly different view of things than Sen. Elder Bo had thoroughly shattered any ideas that Sen possessed of simply trusting that “divine” guidance was a good thing. Then again, maybe the Great Matriarch was a more reliable source of advice and guidance than the turtle. Beyond that, even if Sen did trust divine guidance, he wasn’t sure he could take that advice as unquestioningly as the spider. The problem in front of Sen was that he didn’t know why the spider accepted things as they were. Was it a lack of curiosity? A lack of imagination? Or did the spider truly have such an unbreakable faith? Without that insight, he couldn’t put most of what he’d just heard into the proper context.

“I see,” said Sen when he felt the silence had dragged out for too long. “I suppose we, humans, do struggle with knowing what we are. Although, I don’t think you can blame our elders for that. It seems to me that most elders try to impart their wisdom. We just aren’t always very good at listening to it.”

“That seems a sure path to destruction.”

Sen nodded. “I expect that’s exactly what it is for many.”

“Then, why ignore wisdom that is freely offered?”

What a question, thought Sen. Like I have any real idea. Still, he thought he should take a stab at it. If the Great Matriarch had sent the spider to learn from him, Sen supposed she must think he had something worthwhile to offer.

“Pride, I guess. It’s easier to think that you’re right than accept that someone else knows better. It’s also in our nature to question and confront. Asking questions is a way to get information, but it’s also a way to test our thoughts and ideas. The things other people tell us can shape how we see the world and how we understand truths. Not every person rejects the wisdom they receive. Of course, not every elder is truly wise. Everyone can be blind in some way.”

“Is that true of you? Are you blinded in some way?” asked Glimmer of Night, seeming truly curious for the first time.

“Me? Very much so. It happened today. I was blinded by anger at Laughing River. It made me forget that I had other responsibilities.”

“Will knowing this change what you do?”

Sen actually let out a tired laugh at that question. “If people were reasonable, it should and would change what I do. But people aren’t always reasonable. Changing things about yourself is hard for humans. Emotions are… Well, for humans, they’re powerful and unpredictable. It’s hard to see past them to the best course of action sometimes. Is that not the case for spiders?”

The spider considered that question for a long time before shaking his head. “We don’t feel things this way. We have anger, fear, and even affection, but they rarely overwhelm us. To survive, to hunt, one must be calm and patient. When emotions overwhelm us, we become the prey of others instead of the hunters.”

“I guess that makes sense. Humans do tend to band together. It makes things a bit safer. It certainly lets us indulge our emotions more,” said Sen before hauling in his curiosity. “You don’t need to stay and talk with me if you’d like to be alone or to sleep.”

The spider didn’t hesitate. “I’ll go. I wish to rest.”

“Thank you for watching over Ai for me. I appreciate it.”

Glimmer of Night just nodded before disappearing out the door to return to his own little dwelling. Sen had helped him set it up when they first arrived. Sen would have just made another galehouse, but the spider wanted something smaller, round, and without rooms in it. It struck Sen as odd, but he raised it to make the requests. At some point, he might even ask the spider about it. In the meantime, he pulled a chair out of his storage ring and put it down near Liu Ai’s door. That way, he’d be one of the first things she saw when she got up in the morning.