Yoshika stared at Iseul, flabbergasted.

“What—how?!”

Iseul chuckled. Her voice was still very similar to Ja Yun’s, but like her appearance, had taken on a life of its own.

“I haven’t been idle, you know. You’re the ones who told me to investigate my soul and try to figure out who I am—it’s all I’ve been thinking about, every spare moment I have. This soulscape of yours was really confusing at first, but it’s quite a convenient projection, now that I can understand it better.”

“You’ve progressed a lot further than I realized. How long have you been able to talk like this?”

Iseul cocked her head.

“What do you mean? I’ve known human language for ages—ever since the first time Ja Yun shared her mind with me. We’ve spoken several times now.”

“Well, yes, but you had a connection to Ja Yun every time. I guess I just assumed that she was filling in the blanks.”

“Ah, I think I understand. It’s because of Heian, right? She took a long time to learn language.”

Yoshika frowned.

“Well, yes. I thought that since elementals and spirits both communicate on more fundamental levels, you’d have similar difficulties adapting.”

Iseul nodded sagely.

“That’s a reasonable conclusion, but you made an error in your premises. I’m not like those stupid spirits. Elementals communicate in pure thought because it’s more efficient, not because we don’t understand.”

“You seem a bit insulted by the comparison.”

“I know! Isn’t it great? Emotions are so fun! I’m glad you showed me how to emulate them.”

Yoshika blinked, furrowing her brows.

“Emulate?”

“Mostly, yes. I told you before, right? In order to access my soul, I’ve needed to understand it on a really deep level. It’s the opposite of you humans—or worse, spirits—who have access without any understanding at all. Ancestors, being ruled by your emotions like that...it must be so awful!”

“So you’re not actually feeling any of the emotions you’re expressing? You’re just faking it, like the Kumiho does?”

Iseul put her hands on her hips—which then just sunk into her body seamlessly—and pouted.

“Not at all like the Kumiho! She feels emotions and empathizes just fine—it’s the understanding that she’s faking. I’m the total opposite! I understand emotions almost perfectly, but I struggle to feel them. The whole point of exaggerating my behavior is to reinforce the feelings I do have—unlike that idiot fox who isn’t even trying to truly understand! It’s like you’re...”

She trailed off, narrowing her eyes as Yoshika covered her mouth and tried not to snicker.

“Hey, did you just try to make me angry on purpose?! Thanks! Stronger emotions are a lot better for developing the connection to my soul. You catch on pretty quick!”

Yoshika shrugged.

“I was able to piece some of it together from what I could understand of your thoughts before we came here, and you’re not the only fast learner around.”

“You’ve got two brains—that’s cheating!”

“Says the girl with no brains at all.”

Iseul opened her mouth, paused with her finger outstretched, then lowered it and frowned.

“Okay, you got me with that one.”

Yoshika covered her mouth and giggled. Iseul was refreshingly candid.

“I assume that there was a reason for asking to come here beyond just showing off your progress.”

“Hm, sort of? Nothing that you aren’t already satisfying. Just being here makes me feel a lot more in tune with my emotions, so meditating while in this state should be more effective for me.”

“I see. Is there any particular reason you haven’t refined your form this well in the physical realm? Half the reason your progress went unnoticed is because you’re still spending most of your time as a shapeless blob or a crude humanoid caricature.”

Iseul grimaced.

“Bleh, I’ve been trying, believe it or not. There is a very frustrating gap between understanding and actually doing. A whole lot of things get in my way. For one, there’s just not enough of me. I’ve been steadily growing as I gather essence and raw material, but I’m still very small in the real world.”

“So you have gotten bigger. I thought I was imagining it.”

“Of course I have! I’m a being made of essence, where do you think it all goes? It’s slow, though—most of what I cultivate needs to go towards my core, since a huge part of my foundation is wasted on just maintaining a physical presence. That’s one of the other problems, actually—my body isn’t a body.

“In the physical realm, the part of me that’s me is really just the core. Everything around it is more like...a shell. It’s there to protect me. I think most elementals my age are extremely focused on simply maximizing the efficacy of that shell, and it’s not until they ascend that they start to express themselves in more unique ways like my parents. It’s really hard for me to fight against that inclination, and since it’s not actually a body, I have to actively focus to maintain any sort of shape at all—it’s exhausting!”

Yoshika stroked her chin thoughtfully.

“Hmm, do you suppose it would be possible to create a technique that maintained your form passively? I think opening the right channels through your meridians and then connecting them directly to the flow of essence through your dantian could accomplish it, in theory.”

Iseul nodded happily.

“Yeah! That’s an awesome solution for all kinds of reasons, but it’s still out of reach for me. I don’t have enough of a connection to my soul to open meridians or even feel my dantian. Based on the lessons you were giving before, and my own observations, I think that the moment I’m able to feel my dantian will be the same moment that I both unify my cultivation and create my own domain. It’s a lot harder for me than for you humans, but I think it will be worth the effort.”

“Really enjoying having emotions, huh?”

“Eh, sort of? I mean, by definition, yes. Without emotions there’s no joy to experience in the first place. I’m not yet capable of actually making emotional decisions, though. I’m pursuing this for two reasons—first, I’ve seen first hand that it will make me objectively more powerful. You really gave it to my dad! Second, I need the capacity for irrational thought in order to arbitrarily assign myself a new purpose.”

That gave Yoshika pause.

“Could you explain that second part a bit more?”

“Sure! Most elementals come into being naturally. They lack purpose, but they also don’t know purpose. They just trundle along, gathering essence and growing because that comes naturally to them. I think this might be why Grandpa is so particular about so-called ‘natural order.’ Elementals who grow enough to start thinking about self-definition usually don’t have anything but their nature to go on, so it seems like a fairly natural conclusion to me. I don’t have a lot of logical basis for that, though—it was one of my early experiments in absurd speculation.”

Iseul had certainly gotten talkative, now that she could actually express herself. Yoshika didn’t see any reason to discourage that, though.

“But you’re different?”

“I think I am, yes. I was created for a specific purpose—to act as an emissary between you and Grandpa. Once your business with them was concluded, I didn’t have a purpose anymore. Unlike a naturally created elemental, I knew purpose, and knew I didn’t have one. If you hadn’t brought me with you, I think I probably would have just let myself waste away.”

“Wait, what?!”

Iseul held up a hand to stop Yoshika.

“I know what that sounds like, but it’s not what you’re thinking. I wasn’t depressed, nor did I want to die. I just...didn’t have anything to do. Staying alive doesn’t matter if there’s nothing to do, so I just wouldn’t have bothered. But since you did bring me with you, I just accepted the essence fed to me, and did whatever I was told. It was...sort of like having a purpose.”

Yoshika crossed her arms and frowned.

“That...doesn’t sound like a very good way to define yourself.”

Iseul chuckled.

“No, not at all! I’ve done a lot of thinking about this—since you told me to—and I think the problem is that I’m just incapable of wanting anything. I keep trying to ask myself ‘why?’ Why do anything? Why should I care? And as much as I can rationalize things on a surface level, the deeper I consider it, the more I come up empty. As an elemental, my mind alone isn’t enough to find meaning in existence.

“That’s why I need emotions—not just the ability to emulate them, but to actually feel them. To be able to let them control me, even if just for a moment. If the world has no meaning, then searching for it is absurd. The only way I’ll be able to fulfill the purpose you’ve given me is to embrace that absurdity, and create meaning from meaninglessness—form from formlessness.”

Yoshika whistled appreciatively.

“That...sounds like you’ve already gotten pretty close to succeeding.”

“Maybe, yeah. I have to admit, being here like this makes it a lot easier for me to put it all together. I don’t think I’d have been able to articulate it so well if we weren’t connected like this. What was the phrase you used? ‘Filling in the gaps’?”

“I see. Well, then maybe we can both try to find meaning in our existences together.”

Iseul raised an eyebrow and cocked her head, bits of her hair and ears dripping into her shoulder.

“Hm? Why would you need to search for meaning? You’ve already found it, no? You’re Unity! Peace, cooperation, friendship and family. Even with my limited access to emotions, your soul is very pretty to look at.”

Yoshika smiled sadly.

“Thank you, but I think you’re going to find that the search for meaning is a path without an end. Right now, I feel a bit like you—searching for meaning from other people instead of defining it on my own. What does Unity mean if I’m by myself? Can I even exist alone anymore? If something were to happen to Jia or Eui, would I just become a broken shell forever? I don’t know, and I’m terrified of finding out.”

Iseul blinked.

“Hmm. That sounds very difficult. I’m not sure whether I should be encouraged or disheartened that someone like you shares the same struggles I do, but if it helps, I can give you my own thoughts on the matter.”

“Sure, why not? I have been looking for outside perspectives, though I’m afraid that’s just another way of finding definition in others.”

“Okay. Um, fair warning, these thoughts come from—let’s call them ‘Muddy-thoughts.’ They’re going to sound a little...different from the way I’ve been talking so far.”

Yoshika gestured for her to continue, and Iseul closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, all expression fled her face, and she spoke in a flat, affectless monotone.

“There is no functional difference between purpose granted by another, and lack of purpose. Purpose granted by another can be removed by another. It is, therefore, not one’s own purpose, but another’s—realized through oneself. Such purpose is untenable, and inevitably leads to degradation of the self.

“True purpose must, therefore, come from the self. Anything else is merely a hollow facsimile, at best used as a temporary platform from which to achieve enlightenment, and at worst a barrier that prevents one from ever reaching it.”

Iseul blinked, and her features slowly lit up again, forming a sheepish smile.

“Er, it might be different for you—since there’s two of you. But that’s the closest I’ve been able to get to a core belief so far. Does it help?”

Yoshika frowned as she thought about it.

“I’m not sure...I think it might. I’ll need to reflect on it. Thank you very much for sharing, Iseul.”

“No, thank you! Without you and Ja Yun encouraging me, I’d have never even started to learn how to be happy. I’d be honored if I was able to return some of that kindness.”

“Is that a genuine sentiment, or just a reasonable impression of one?”

Iseul giggled.

“With enough practice, maybe it can be both!”

Yoshika smirked.

“I suppose so. One last thing before we get on with our mediation...”

“Yes?”

“Could you teach me those hand signs you’ve been learning with Ja Yun?”