Phosphius was perplexed by two things in his 19th year; he had no symbols to describe Will. He also had no answer for the lack of change in the human condition.
People suffered the same ailments and malaise they had seemed to do for generations. The advent of scientific solutions to daily problems did not entail an overall change in quality of life. Men and women had put up with heartache, mental slowness, the need to rest and the need to cry since his forefathers. He could tell, given the stories he had heard, the role of melancholy had been consistent in the history of man.
Man had been fighting beast and monster, be it real or imagined, since his dawn. He had toiled and woken at sunlight for survival no matter the age and no matter its achievements. In times of great material growth, men had been afflicted with the same tragedy as in times of great physical hardship. What was the reason? Had the use of machinery not dulled the labours of the field? Had the screws and pipes not eased men and women into a life of physical well-being? Why was the mental state of all so gravely impacted by the sadness of things?
The situation transcended the here and now, and therefore was central to what would become the representation of Objecta Arcaia. The inherent nature of all things. Living or dead, Phosphius reasoned, all objects around him were subject to some irrefutable laws. Some things, he argued, would never change. It was not the seasons or the arrival of the moon at night he alluded to. Phosphius was perplexed most by the core of all humanity which seemed, with consistency, to always depend on the same factors for it's happiness.
All living things should be in a state of bliss. This was the conclusion of the age. Everywhere Phosphius looked, people were trying to make their lives better with the help of reason. Objects moved faster from one location to another and beasts, like birds, seemed to recede further. This was acceptable and necessary in his world. His citadels had been growing and his survival seemed more and more assured each step of the industrial way. Yet despite all the invention, there was a sense of calamity and panic in the lives of everyday citizenry. A chasm that seemed to have existed always. Forever. Not just till the birth of Man and Woman, but before that. An infinite line of collective consciousness that must be part of the structure of life.
This connection, a common thread deep within the fabric of the living, meant all of life's essence must be in something all living creatures must share. A founding structure from which all of live must grow. Humans and birds and plants. All made from the same basic component.
This component had 'travelled' across millennia to get to his time. It would have been unchanged; it would have the source of the restlessness of Man's soul.
