A Transformed World - The Beginnings

 A world transformed - the beginning

In an era lost to time, somewhere in the vast universe, there existed a planet called Earth. On this planet, a thriving civilization flourished, divided into three great nations—Utopia, Magara, and Lama. Each was defined by a unique elemental force: Utopia was the land of water, Magara embodied fire, and Lama was guided by air.

Part 1: The Nation of Magara

Nestled among towering white peaks, the land of Magara stood proud, embraced by the eternal mist of Mukhilmalai. The mountain, crowned with clouds year-round, was revered as sacred. At its summit stood the ancient temple of Poorisivas, the legendary forefather of the Magara people.

Stories of the temple and the mountain’s divine origins passed through generations, whispered with awe. It was said that Earth itself had risen from the cosmic void, shaped by the force of meditation. From the dust and shadows of creation, the first being, Poorisivas, was born within a cave on this very mountain. As he matured, he awaited the arrival of Ambika, his destined companion.

One fateful day, as rain mingled with swirling mist, a golden peacock emerged from the sky, carrying Ambika upon its radiant wings. Together, they became the ancestors of the Magara people, whose lineage spread across the land.

Mukhilmalai was not just a sacred peak; it was woven into the fabric of their lives. Each year, the people of Magara embarked on a pilgrimage to the Poorisivas Temple, their footsteps turning the mountain paths into living trails. The journey led them through dense forests, where towering trees stretched toward the heavens, and fallen leaves formed a soft carpet beneath their feet.

Villagers and city dwellers alike traveled together, carts filled with offerings—cockerels, hens, and goats, destined for the sacred rites. As they ascended, the sound of prayers intertwined with the rustling wind, carrying their devotion to the gods above.

The road leading to the temple was lined with vibrant stalls, where vendors sold flowers, fruits, and various goods. In front of the shops, men and women bargained loudly, their voices merging into a chaotic yet rhythmic chorus.

As the pilgrimage continued up the hill, large crowds gathered in rest halls, taking a moment to relax before reaching the summit. In just a few hours, the ritual sacrifices would begin, sealing the fate of the chickens and goats brought for offering.

Women carefully unwrapped the meals they had prepared, serving an array of dishes—both vegetarian and non-vegetarian. Fragrant spinach, steamed root vegetables, and crispy fried tubers were laid out alongside platters of rich liver curry, spiced brain masala, and golden-fried chicken. The aroma of food filled the air, mingling with the distant scent of incense.

The afternoon sun blazed fiercely, its heat drawing beads of sweat from the pilgrims' faces. As the day wore on, Adhavan, the sun, began his descent, painting the sky in streaks of gold and crimson. The fiery hues melted into twilight, and soon, darkness crept in. A soft wind carried the scent of damp earth, and the cool air offered a moment of relief.

As night fell, the festival came alive with mesmerizing performances. A woman walked gracefully, a serpent coiled in her hands, its scales gleaming under the torchlight. Nearby, a muscular man twirled flaming orbs, their fiery trails illuminating his powerful stance. Another performer struck himself with a whip, the sharp cracks echoing through the night.

The devotees moved forward, their footsteps guided by flickering oil lamps. In front of the temple stood a grand idol of Poorisivas, his presence both awe-inspiring and fearsome. With ten mighty hands, he held flames aloft, his long tongue stretching out in an eternal dance. His rolling gaze seemed to pierce through the night, and beneath him, the festival pulsed with unshaken devotion.

A grand platform had been erected beside the statue, where musicians played with unrelenting intensity, their drums and instruments sending the crowd into a trance. The rhythm grew wild, the very air pulsing with its raw energy. The fury of the music itself seemed to take form, as men and women alike surrendered to the dance, their bodies moving in harmony with the primal beat.

Then, suddenly, the music stopped. Silence fell like a heavy veil over the gathering. The dancers froze in place, their breath still caught in the rhythm.

An old man, standing at the edge of the platform, began to chant in a deep, resonant voice. He struck a sacred drum, his song rising in a haunting melody that spoke of ancestors and forgotten gods. Women joined in, their voices weaving together in reverence. The hymn reached its peak—then abruptly ceased. A moment of profound stillness followed, a silence so pure it seemed to echo through the night.

Then, the sound of footsteps. The royal family was arriving.

First came the palace attendants, carrying ceremonial plates filled with fruits, flowers, and offerings. Their attire was modest, their ornaments minimal, in contrast to those who followed. Behind them, the royal guards marched in formation, their hands gripping swords, spears, and bows. Their presence alone commanded respect.

Next came the minor kings and their families, adorned in extravagant jewelry and fine silks. Among them was the family of King Trivikraman, their status evident in every step they took. Prince Ezhilkumaran and his loyal companion, Manimaran, rode in on powerful steeds, their gazes fixed ahead. And finally, atop a majestic white horse, King Trivikraman himself arrived, his presence undeniable.

The ritual began. First, the chickens and goats were sacrificed, their blood collected in sacred vessels, an offering to the divine. The air grew thick with the scent of incense and iron.

Then, at midnight, a young man was led onto the stage. A knowing smile played on his lips—he understood his fate. After the completion of the sacred pujas, three women stepped forward, their gazes fixed upon him. According to custom, he was to choose one among them, and on this night, she could not refuse him.

A great fire roared within the Agnikundam, its flames licking the night sky. The blood of the sacrifice was poured into the sacred pit, hissing as it met the embers. Priests recited mantras in reverence to Poorisivas, their voices rising and falling in rhythmic unison, carrying prayers into the darkness.

The young man was brought to the stage once more. He stood naked, his body exposed to the flickering firelight. First, they coated his skin with saffron, then turmeric, and finally, with the blood of the sacrifice. His arms were bound tightly by two iron wires, stretching his body in cruel submission. The smile on his face had faded, replaced by a distant, unreadable expression.

Manimaran stepped forward, gripping his sword with steady hands. Without hesitation, he ran the blade across the young man's back, slicing deep into his flesh. A crimson river spilled forth, tracing jagged paths down his skin. The air tensed. Then, in one swift motion, Manimaran raised his sword high and brought it down with precision—severing the young man's head from his body.

The gathered crowd erupted into ecstatic cries, their voices merging into a deafening roar. As if possessed by the moment, men and women embraced each other in frenzied passion. Their bodies intertwined like writhing serpents, lost in primal ecstasy beneath the shadow of the temple.

Manimaran stood frozen, his face drenched in blood. The warmth of it clung to his skin, thick and unrelenting. His hands trembled. His breath came in short gasps, his chest rising and falling with an unfamiliar weight. Every nerve in his body tensed, as if awakening to something unsettling.

Prince Ezhilkumaran approached him, flanked by two women, his voice loud and commanding. One of the women, her body adorned in silks and gold, reached for Manimaran, pulling him close with an inviting embrace. He shoved her away.

Ezhilkumaran's gaze darkened. Without hesitation, he grabbed the woman, pushing her down, his hands tearing at her garments. His breath was ragged, animalistic. Manimaran turned away, his steps hurried, his pulse hammering in his ears. He disappeared into the shadows, leaving behind the echoes of revelry and the woman's silent gaze.

Then, as if breaking free from unseen chains, the woman shoved Ezhilkumaran away and vanished into the darkness.

                                                ————***********—————-

Near Mugilmalai, a dense forest known as Chandivanam stretched far and wide. Towering trees had grown unchecked for years, their thick canopies blocking even the faintest rays of sunlight. Human presence was scarce; the forest was forever cloaked in darkness.

The profound silence of the jungle was constantly interrupted by the soft, rhythmic hum of insects, their murmurs weaving a delicate song. Suddenly, the sharp cries of birds shattered the stillness, only to be swallowed by silence once more. Occasionally, the deep growls of tigers and the thunderous roars of elephants sent a wave of fear through the wilderness.

For ten days, Manimaran had been wandering through this forest. Prince Ezhilkumaran of the Magara Kingdom had disappeared. Reports from spies revealed that he had been seen heading toward the forest with an unknown woman. Manimaran suspected that the woman might be the one he had encountered during the Poorisivas festival.

Having spent much of his youth roaming the depths of Chandivanam, Manimaran knew every inch of this treacherous terrain. While other warriors hesitated in fear, he alone had vowed to King Trivikraman that he would find the missing prince and ventured into the wilderness.

But as the days passed, his confidence wavered. Returning to the king without finding Ezhilkumaran would be an unbearable disgrace. Ahead lay the hermit dwellings along the riverbank—a place forbidden to outsiders. Yet, he had no choice. If there was any clue about the prince’s whereabouts, he had to risk it.

The river sang as it flowed, cascading down from Mugilmalai before winding through the forest. The distant sight of hermit huts became visible along the bank. A cool breeze drifted from the water, carrying the scent of damp earth.

Manimaran swam across the river, reaching the opposite shore. He moved toward the huts, only to find them fortified by a wooden fence. Just as he prepared to climb over it, voices rang out behind him.

He turned around.

Two forest dwellers stood at a distance, calling out to him. Realizing that he had no other option, he acknowledged their summons and followed them into a small hut.

Inside the hut, Ezhilkumaran lay weak and frail. The forest dwellers cautioned Manimaran not to disturb him. They explained that the prince needed three more days to recover, after which he could be taken back safely.

Manimaran stayed in the hut, tending to the prince with great care. Once Ezhilkumaran regained his strength, he recounted the events that had led to his condition.

The woman he had followed was a spy for the rebel forces, sworn enemies of the royal family. She had lured him deep into the forest, drugged him, and then struck him with a blade before vanishing. If not for the healing knowledge of the forest dwellers, he would not have survived.

Ezhilkumaran further revealed that the rebels had already seized several cities in the Magara Kingdom. Through the spy, he had learned that their forces were marching towards the capital.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, he insisted that they must meet the king immediately and rush toward Madurapuri, the capital.

The king was staying in a village called Saavadi, near Mugilmalai. The forest dwellers guided them to a shortcut, and without delay, both men set out at full speed toward Saavadi.

                                   ———********———-

At the foot of Mugilmalai, in the village of Saavadi, King Trivikraman had taken refuge. The region, bathed in frequent evening rains, was home to towering trees that thrived in the damp climate. The villagers extracted various medicinal herbs and oils from these trees, making the village a center for natural remedies.

That evening, the rain had just ceased.

For ten days, Trivikraman had been restless, tormented by the lack of news from Manimaran about Ezhilkumaran. The Chandivanam forest was infamous for its dangers—few who entered ever returned. Doubt and despair crept into the king’s mind.

Had he made a terrible mistake by raising his only son with such tender care?

Unlike his father, King Desingu, who was one of the most powerful rulers of the Magara Kingdom, Trivikraman had led a different life. Desingu had remained childless for many years, marrying several queens in search of an heir. Only at the age of sixty was Trivikraman born.

But whispers in the court told another story—some claimed that Trivikraman was not truly the king’s son. A scandalous rumor suggested that he was the child of a queen and a palace servant.

Five years after Trivikraman’s birth, Desingu Rajan passed away. Until the young prince came of age, the throne was entrusted to Mahendrabhoopathi, Trivikraman’s maternal uncle.

But Mahendrabhoopathi had deliberately raised Trivikraman to be weak. He denied him any war training and never allowed him beyond the palace walls. The prince grew up sheltered, confined within the grandeur of the royal fortress, knowing little of the world outside.

To pass the time in the royal palace, Trivikraman immersed himself in games, particularly chess. He had a deep passion for the game and found a worthy opponent in Manjunathan, a skilled player.

Manjunathan was more than just a chess master—he was also a wise strategist who helped Trivikraman see through Mahendrabhoopathi’s schemes.

He warned the young prince:

"In a few years, Mahendrabhoopathi will have you killed and place his own son on the throne. If you wish to survive, you must seek the support of the lesser kings and eliminate him and his lineage."

Determined to escape his fate, Trivikraman hid inside bundles of discarded palace laundry and smuggled himself out of the fortress. With the support of allied rulers, he raised a formidable army and marched on Madurapuri, the capital of Magara Kingdom.

In a fierce battle, Mahendrabhoopathi and his entire bloodline were wiped out.

After securing the throne, one day Trivikraman played chess with Manjunathan once again. As the game progressed, Manjunathan remarked,
"This will be the last game we ever play together."

The next day, Manjunathan vanished from the palace, leaving no trace behind.

Without his trusted advisor, Trivikraman struggled to find wise counselors. He fell prey to poor advice and made disastrous decisions that weakened his reign.

Each night, he sat alone before the chessboard, playing against himself, lost in thought. The once-powerful king now found himself consumed by loneliness, his only companion the silent game of strategy.

                                ————*******———-

The distant sound of galloping horses interrupted Trivikraman’s thoughts. He rushed outside the hut, and a wave of relief washed over him as he saw Ezhilkumaran and Manimaran approaching.

Without wasting time, he explained the dire situation—the enemy forces were advancing toward Madurapuri, and they needed to depart immediately to defend the capital.

For a few moments, Trivikraman stood frozen, lost in thought. Then, pulling Manimaran aside, he spoke in a low, urgent voice.

"We are not prepared for this battle. My death is certain, and Ezhilkumaran will meet the same fate. Our severed heads will hang from the fortress walls of Madurapuri. But you… you must not perish with us."

"After the battle, infiltrate the enemy ranks. Use that spy—the woman who lured Ezhilkumaran—to gain their trust. Stay close to them, earn their confidence, and when the time is right… destroy them from within. This is my final command. Swear to me that you will do this."

Tears welled in Manimaran’s eyes as he grasped the king’s hands, silently vowing to fulfill his duty.

Without another word, the three men mounted their horses and rode toward Madurapuri at storm-like speed, racing toward their fate.

                                                   ———-*******———-

The Land of Utopia

"This sea, its restless waves crashing upon the shore, the sky meeting the horizon in endless blue, the sun tearing through the clouds at dawn, the countless people who come here for leisure—my son, Rousseau, I have watched this for forty years. Nothing has changed. Faces come and go, but the scenes remain the same. This unchanging nature—this is the curse of this land."

Rousseau said nothing in response to Voltaire’s words. Instead, he gazed at the waves, lost in thought.

The capital city of Utopia, Principia, was known for its picturesque shores. For eighteen years, every time Rousseau set foot on this beach, he felt reborn. The waves, in particular, stirred a profound excitement in him—the way small ripples were swallowed by towering waves, the way white foam emerged from the deep blue, the sudden surge of waves rising from ankle height to chest level—it never failed to feel like a new experience.

That day, the beach was bustling with activity. Children chased crabs, watching in amusement as they scurried back into their burrows. Young girls collected seashells and conch shells, while some built sandcastles and temples, only to watch them get washed away by the waves with excited laughter. A few mischievous boys dug deep pits, burying themselves up to their necks in sand.

Couples and families waded into the water, playfully splashing each other. Some daring young men even carried their beloveds in their arms, venturing into the deeper waters.

It was a full moon night. The evening sun dipped into the sea, painting the sky with vibrant hues, and soon, the moonlit night cast its glow over the shore. Families sat together, sharing the food they had brought. 

Near the coastline of Utopia, stood the grand temple of Mother Johan, the first deity of the nation. The temple had three towering gopurams (towers), each adorned with a star-shaped emblem at the top. Inside, at the heart of the temple, was a statue of Mother Johan holding a child in her arms. That child represented the people of Utopia—a symbol of her eternal protection and motherly care for the nation.

As soon as the temple bells rang, people began gathering in large numbers for prayer. Sacred hymns filled the air, and the devotees slowly entered the temple, joining their hands in reverence before kneeling down. In a short while, the evening prayers would commence, after which everyone would return to their homes.

Once the crowd had dispersed, only Voltaire and Rousseau remained, seated upon a rock, gazing at the dark sea shimmering under the moonlight.

"Look at the capital of this so-called great empire," Voltaire said. "The sun has barely set, and yet the entire city is asleep. Shouldn’t the capital be alive at night—with entertainment, trade, and travelers filling the streets? Tell me, what is wrong in wishing to leave this stagnant land?"

"Father," Rousseau replied, "you say this city has grown dull, that this shore has lost its charm. But I do not feel that way. Did you see the seabirds today? When they soared, I felt as though my heart took flight with their wings. As the sun set, I felt my soul merge into its crimson rays. When the waves rose and fell, I felt like a drop within them, tumbling and rising. No matter how many times I come here, I will never tire of this place."

"Ah! You are a poet. The goddess of art dwells within your soul. But I am just a merchant—I see only wealth in all things. Your grandfather was like you, a great scholar, forever lost in books on history and philosophy. I have preserved a whole room filled with the books he read, in his memory. But tell me, what did he gain? He spent his entire life serving others—masters far less intelligent than him. And yet, because he was gentle, they belittled him.”

"It was this bitterness that led me to make a decision," Voltaire continued. "I resolved never to work under anyone. I abandoned my studies, started small, and today, I have grown into a great merchant. But even this is not enough for me. Do you know what I feel when I look at this sea? Listen, and I will tell you."

"Hundreds of ships stand anchored in this vast ocean. A great many of them belong to me. Goods are unloaded onto boats and ferried to the shore. From there, they are loaded onto carts and taken into the city. Every valuable item in the world finds its way to this very coastline—fragrant spices, exotic foods, golden ornaments, medicinal herbs, and fine liquor. There is nothing that is not bought and sold here. The shore is lined with food stalls, buzzing like a hive of bees with eager customers. Government officials patrol the docks, collecting their tariffs from merchants."

"But my vision does not end here. My dream expands further. I will set sail across distant waters, discovering new lands—lands rich in wealth and resources. With my armies, I will seize small territories, settling our people among them. I will forge treaties with their rulers so that our people and theirs may coexist in harmony. And once that is done, I will continue my journey toward newer lands."

"And I will take you with me—not as a merchant, but as a philosopher. These journeys will shape you, refine you, and grant you wisdom. Will you pray for my dream to come true?"

Rousseau took his father’s hands and kissed them.

The city clock struck midnight. The waves had grown restless, rising and crashing with newfound force.

Side by side, father and son walked toward the city, heading home.

                               ——-********——

The next day was the remembrance day of Johan Mother, the divine figure who had descended to Earth. The entire city was in celebration. At dawn, the temple doors opened, and the rituals began. The temple was adorned with lights, radiating brightness. The crowd gradually filled the temple, with people joining in prayer, clapping their hands, and sitting in reverence. In the central area of the temple stood a grand statue of Johan Mother, holding her child in her arms. A golden crown rested upon her head, symbolizing her divinity.

Voltaire arrived at the temple with his wife and sat in the front row. Rousseau, on the other hand, avoided coming to the temple regularly. Despite his parents' insistence that he attend at least once a year, he did not pay heed to their requests.

Children were called to the stage to sing songs, and the devotees joined in, creating an atmosphere of euphoria. Religious leaders came forward one by one to offer their prayers. The temple fell silent when the elder priest came forward to speak. He began narrating the history of Johan Mother.

"A thousand years ago, on a night filled with rain and thunder, Johan arrived in the city of Principia with her infant child. The citizens asked her where the child's father was, to which Johan replied that this child had no father. It was a gift from God. Because people did not believe her, Johan found no refuge. She stayed in a shack at the city's outskirts."

"When Johan arrived, the rain began to pour relentlessly, continuing for several weeks without stopping. The entire town was flooded, yet the shack where Johan had stayed remained dry."

*"The people, desperate for relief, went to Johan and asked for forgiveness. They begged her to stop the rain. Johan prayed, and within minutes, the rain ceased. This miraculous act made the people believe that Johan was a messenger of God.

Johan refused the comforts offered to her and chose to stay in the humble cattle shed. There, she continued healing the sick and the mentally afflicted through her prayers.

Slowly, people began to believe in her teachings. She preached that Joshua was the one true God and that those who did not worship him would be condemned to eternal damnation. The deities of the existing Solstice religion were, according to her, mere demons misleading the people.

Her teachings enraged the Solstice priests. Fearing the collapse of their faith, they conspired against her and urged the King to eliminate her influence.

The king's warriors arrested Johan and brought her before the throne. He declared,
"If you do not renounce Joshua as the one true God before the people, your child will be slain before your very eyes."

Johan refused to comply. The soldiers seized her child and placed it on a raised platform. A warrior stepped forward, his sword poised to strike. But as he lifted his blade, the child smiled.

A deep tremor ran through the warrior’s body, and he collapsed in a swoon. The other warriors, too, found themselves unable to harm the child.

Realizing the divine power of Johan Mother, the people fell at her feet in reverence. Even the king, overcome with awe, begged her to stay in his palace and guide him.

But Johan declined. She instructed him instead to build temples for Joshua and commanded both the king and the people to abandon the Solstice faith.

Thus, the entire nation embraced the worship of Joshua, and Johan Mother’s teachings reshaped the destiny of Uthopia.

For forty more years, Johan lived. However, her child never grew. Johan explained that the entire human race existed in the form of this child.

One day, she declared that the time had come for both her and her child to reunite with the divine. A pit was dug, and within it, a small chamber was constructed. Johan and her child entered it and sat inside. The pit was sealed. Johan entered a state of deep meditation. On the seventh day, a great light filled the sky. Johan and her child ascended to the divine.

From that day forward, Mother Johan became the first deity of the people. She had protected this nation from many calamities. Let us worship her. Let us worship her child. Let us pray to Joshua and attain greatness in our lives.

The head priest remained silent for a moment. The congregation, too, was still. Then, the temple bell rang. When it stopped, the people stood up, received the sacred offering, and slowly left the temple.

Voltaire walked to the park and sat on a bench beneath a tree. His wife had gone to watch a play with her friends. After a while, Rousseau arrived at the park with a young woman. Neither of them noticed Voltaire.

As Voltaire approached them, the young woman quickly stood up. Rousseau, upon seeing his father, froze in shock.

"Won’t you introduce me to your friend?" Voltaire asked.

"Her name is Jenny. She is not just a friend—I love her, and she loves me."

"So what? We shall arrange your wedding soon."

Voltaire’s words put Jenny in an even greater dilemma. She quickly excused herself and left.

"She seems like a good girl. Why didn’t you come to the temple today?"

"I am an atheist. Let me ask you a question. Do you believe that Joshua created us and this world?"

"Yes, of course. What is there to doubt?"

"What is the evidence for that?"

"How else could this world have come into existence?"

"It could have come into existence on its own. Do you believe that our lives are determined by fate?"

"Yes, that is what our religion teaches."

"Can Joshua change fate?"

"Fate is eternal. Even God cannot change it."

"If even God cannot change fate, then why should we worship him?"

"Because he is omnipotent."

"Does that make him worthy of worship? A person’s worth is determined by their actions."

"Joshua is pure and holy."

"Then why do so many injustices happen in this world? Just yesterday, a little girl in this city was brutally murdered by a vile man. When I think about it, my whole body trembles. How could your so-called pure and holy Joshua allow such a thing?"

"Son, you think too much. That is your nature. But what I need is faith. A man stranded in the deep sea will cling to even a small piece of wood, believing it will bring him to shore. In my business, I have to make many decisions. I must believe that they will turn out well in the future. If I don’t believe, I cannot be a businessman. Faith in the future is built on faith in God. Without that faith, there will be no action, and the world will not function. Do you understand, Rousseau? Stop arguing and come home by nightfall."

When Voltaire reached home, the emptiness of the house disturbed him. After a while, his wife, Mary, arrived.

She shared her conversations with her friends with her husband. She was anxious about why Rousseau had not come home.

"I saw him in the park today with a girl. He said he loved her. I liked that courage."

"He’s only sixteen, and he’s already getting involved in such things? Would this have happened in our time? Before marriage, I never even looked at another man. Even men were so restrained back then. Do you remember how, at our wedding, you told me I was the first woman you had ever touched?"

"Children today have more freedom. But Rousseau would never do anything wrong. He will be home soon."

"Do you know? Celine’s husband has been arrested. It was discovered that he was involved with another woman."

"Yes, monogamy is essential for a good family and a stable society. But some people have started breaking those rules. This should be stopped at its roots. The government must take strict action."

"It’s not just men; even women have started behaving immorally. Katie has been having an affair with her husband's friend. Her husband is considering filing a complaint with the authorities. His situation is truly pitiful."

The sound of knocking on the door interrupted their conversation. Rousseau entered the house and went straight to his room.

Voltaire and Mary finished their dinner and went to their bedroom. Voltaire sat on the bed while Mary sat beside him and held his shoulder.

Voltaire gently freed himself from her hands.

"Did you forget that today is Mother Johan’s remembrance day? We must observe restraint for a week."

"Yes, I forgot. I’m sorry. Tonight, I will sleep downstairs."

Mary spread a mat on the floor and lay down. Within moments, Voltaire fell into a deep sleep.

Mary couldn’t sleep. She lay there staring at Voltaire’s back. After a while, she got up, took one of his garments, held it close, and slowly drifted into sleep.

Lama Land

Amidst the white snow-covered mountains, the sun cast its golden rays, turning everything into a shimmering gold. In the morning sunlight, Mount Kanchen shone brightly. From the clouds, a rainbow emerged, glistening like a colorful peacock’s plume. Everywhere, there was silence and stillness. At that moment, the fundamental nature of Lama Land—emptiness, void, and inactivity—was reflected in the surroundings.

Kanishka looked up at the mountain, calculating the distance he had yet to climb. By noon the next day, he would reach the peak. As he walked, the elderly Naropa followed behind. Snow was spread across the ground, with patches of green grass appearing in places.

In some areas, yaks were seen roaming. They shivered slightly, shaking off the snow that had settled on their bodies. With their curved horns, they moved their heads in rhythm. The children sitting atop the yaks waved at the two travelers.

After a while, they reached a small stream. Both of them washed their faces in the clear water. The stream flowed swiftly, carrying floating ice crystals. Tall trees with needle-like green leaves surrounded the area. Nearby, the sound of a cascading waterfall echoed. A cool breeze gently brushed against their skin. Kanishka looked at Naropa, who nodded in acknowledgment. Quickly removing his clothes, Kanishka plunged into the stream and swam for a while. After emerging from the water, they resumed their journey once again.

Both of them spent the entire day climbing the mountain. As they ascended, the path became narrower. On one side was the towering mountain, and on the other, a deep abyss. Kanishka led the way, while Naropa carefully followed behind, holding onto a long staff that Kanishka extended backward for support.

That night, they rested inside a small cave. Outside, a fierce snowstorm raged, sweeping over the mountain. Kanishka rubbed Naropa’s feet to warm them.

The next morning, their journey continued. Finally, they reached the summit of Mount Kanchen. After descending a short distance, they came across a massive rock resembling a hill.

At Naropa’s signal, Kanishka stopped. Both of them realized they had arrived at the right place.

A brilliant light radiated from the snow-covered rock. The elderly man shivered and knelt, tears streaming from his eyes.

"I will now tell you about events that took place twenty-three years ago. At that time, I had assumed the role of the guide of Lama Land. You know well that our land has no rulers. No one has the authority to control others. That is why people do not call me their leader. Because of the wisdom I have attained, they consider me their guide.

Every guide has the responsibility of finding a worthy successor and imparting the wisdom needed to lead the people after him. I traveled across the land in search of the one who would follow me. Days and months passed, but my efforts were in vain.

Frustrated, I wandered alone in this mountain. One day, I arrived at this very spot. Here, I found you—a five-year-old child—seated in a meditative posture. I had no idea how many days you had been in that state. Your entire body was covered in snow, with only your face visible. From it, a brilliant light shone. The moment I saw you, I knew—you were the chosen one."

"I took you with me and taught you everything I knew. Today, in this very place where I first found you, my journey is coming to an end. The time has come for you to take on the responsibility after me. You are worthy of it. But what I fear is that you have not fully embraced the principles of nonviolence in your thoughts.

This is completely against the responsibility you are about to accept. It goes against the very nature of this land. Nonviolence, communal living, and renunciation of possessions—these three are the fundamental virtues of this land. Swear that you will never let them be compromised. Even if it costs you your life, even if our entire people are wiped out, you must protect this oath. Will you do it?"

Naropa extended his hand. Kanishka hesitated for a few moments. In that hesitation, Naropa took his last breath. His hand remained outstretched.

Even in his final moments, Kanishka could not bring himself to grasp that hand.

After gazing at Naropa’s face one last time, Kanishka turned and walked away from that place.

                                                   ———-*********————

Ashoka wandered aimlessly through the marketplace street. He loved places crowded with people. He found great joy in observing each person's face and their expressions—the sternness of the supervisors, the enthusiasm of the laborers, the chatter of women, the playfulness of children. It felt as if the entire world had gathered in that street.

Laborers were busy loading and unloading goods from carts. The supervisors oversaw everything and issued orders. The people of Lama Desam were simple. Jewelry and perfumes were not sold there. The purchase of weapons was strictly prohibited.

Ashoka noticed a foreigner standing in the street, looking lost. The man did not know the Lama language. Ashoka approached him and asked if he needed any help. The foreigner asked where he could find meat.

"Killing living beings is forbidden in this land. Meat is not available anywhere," Ashoka replied.

"Then where can I find cooked food?"

"You must go to another street for that."

Ashoka led the foreigner to a street where restaurants were located.

After they had eaten, the foreigner asked the person serving food something, but he was unable to get a clear response.

"When I asked how much I need to pay for the food I ate, he started rambling," the foreigner said in frustration.

"You don't need to pay any money. Here, nothing has a price. Everything belongs to everyone. We share according to each person's needs."

"Who decides how much each person gets?"

"The people. Think of this nation as one big family. In a family, no one determines how much food each person should receive. Similarly, here, people understand both their own needs and the needs of others and share accordingly."

"If someone takes advantage of this system, is there a punishment?"

"No. Sometimes, in a family, children may excitedly take more food than necessary, right? Only if such behavior continues will they be gently reprimanded."

"It's surprising how this system works."

"It's because of the conscience that is deeply rooted in human nature."

"A fascinating land. If no one owns anything, then surely there must be no violence here?"

"There are occasional incidents. Sometimes mischievous young men cause trouble for women, leading to conflicts. But in my lifetime, I have never heard of murder or theft happening here."

"What happens to those who commit mistakes?"

"They are sent to a reform monastery for two months, where they receive spiritual training that transforms them into better individuals."

"A good land. Good people."

After the foreigner departed, Ashoka headed towards his home.

As Ashoka walked down the street, a gentle snowfall continued. The distant mountains were covered with white patches. Children were playing by throwing snowballs at each other. The leaves of the trees had disappeared beneath layers of snow, and the branches were completely covered.

The crowd in the marketplace had thinned. In the eateries, customers sipped warm drinks to fend off the cold. The people walking on the streets were wrapped in thick animal-skin garments. The horses pulling carts had snow covering their eyes, causing the carts to be parked to the side.

As Ashoka neared his home, he saw his son, Vishwabandhu, decorating a snowman. When Vishwa saw his father, he ran up and clung to his legs.

Lifting him up, Ashoka carried him inside and playfully tossed him onto the bed. Vishwa excitedly started talking about everything that had happened at school that day. Just then, Ashoka's wife, Nala, entered the room. It was evident that she had been crying.

When Nala gestured, Ashoka began speaking to his son.

"You must have heard about what happened to your cousin Siddhartha last year."

"Yes, uncle bought him a horse."

"That's not what I meant. Last year, when he turned five, he had to leave his parents and go to the monastery to live with the other children. Tomorrow, you will turn five. From now on, we will no longer be your parents."

Shock was visible on the child's face.

"Don't worry. There will be many children your age there. You'll spend all your time playing with them, and soon, you'll forget about us completely. Nala and I will visit you once a month. If you ever need anything, we will always be there for you."

The boy covered his face and began to cry. Ashoka tried to console him, but when Nala gestured for him to stop, they both stepped into the next room.

"From tomorrow, he is no longer our son. You are no longer my husband. I am no longer your wife. Three birds built a nest together, yet they are powerless to stop it from being destroyed."

"Husband, wife, child—these relationships turn people into slaves to one another. They make them possessions. This goes against the fundamental nature of our country."

"We lived as husband and wife only to bear and raise a child until the age of five. After that, we are strangers. What kind of law is this? A law that does not understand human emotions—what is its purpose?"

"It is precisely because this law understands human emotions that it exists. Relationships bind people. They trap them in the web of desire. They plant seeds of attachment and fear in the mind. A society free of these is a truly advanced society. To achieve that, we must make this sacrifice."

"Tell me the truth—can you really live without us? Can you stay away from the smiling face of the child sleeping in that room? Will the memories of you holding me, of our bodies merging in love, simply vanish from your breath? Tell me."

"We can still be together. There is no restriction on that."

"Yes. We can even be with others. There is no restriction on that either. But what does that give us? Can it ever compare to the love shared in the bond where you are mine and I am yours?"

"I am leaving for Tripoli tomorrow. I have decided to study philosophy at the monastery there. Whenever I get the chance, I will visit you and Vishva."

Ashoka slowly opened the door. The boy was asleep, his cheeks flushed red from crying.

"Oh, God! How are the three of us going to endure this separation?"

Ashoka's entire body trembled as he sobbed. Nala embraced him and laid his head on her lap.

"This is our last night. Tonight, you belong to me. Tonight, I belong to you. Fulfill my every desire."

The two embraced tightly, entwined as one.

Outside, the snowstorm showed no sign of stopping.

                                         ————************—————

Part 2 - The Land of Magara

Poombarai was a small village in the kingdom of Magara. In that village lived a humble farmer named Kandamaran. He had two children—a son named Manimaran and a daughter known as Poonguzhali.

Manimaran rarely stayed at home. He would wander through every corner of the village, playing wherever he found children. The women of the village would feed him without hesitation, and the elders sitting in front of their houses would make him sit with them and tell him stories. He was the beloved child of the entire village.

A terrible calamity struck this peaceful village like a storm. Bandits became a great menace. But these bandits did not steal possessions—they stole people. They abducted strong men and women, turning them into slaves to be sold in the cities. Even children were not spared.

The government of Trivikraman turned a blind eye to this horror. There were even whispers that those abducted from Poombarai were being forced into servitude within his very own palaces.

Suddenly, forty to fifty bandits would appear on horseback, storming into the village. They would break into homes, whipping people into submission, binding their captives in chains, and taking them away.

For a time, Kandamaran’s house miraculously escaped their raids. But that safety did not last long. One day, the bandits arrived at his doorstep. Manimaran was playing outside when they came. There was not the slightest trace of fear in the young boy’s eyes.

The leader of the bandits, Sembavan, ordered his men to enter the house.

At that moment, Manimaran bent down and drew a line on the ground in front of him.

"If you're a real man, cross this line and face me!" the young boy challenged boldly.

The bandits chuckled mockingly. Sembavan, their leader, signaled one of his men to seize the child. But as soon as the man stepped over the line, Manimaran grabbed a nearby sword and struck him down. Blood gushed from the bandit's legs as he collapsed.

One by one, Manimaran cut down every bandit who dared cross his line.

Finally, Sembavan himself dismounted from his horse and approached the boy. He wounded Manimaran’s hand, forcing him to drop the sword. Then, he took a thick club and struck the boy with brutal force, sending him crashing to the ground.

The bandits stormed into Kandamaran’s house and dragged out Poonguzhali. The entire village watched helplessly as Manimaran and Poonguzhali were tied to the backs of horses and taken away. No one dared to resist.

The captors transported the two children to the capital city. Manimaran glared at Sembavan with burning hatred. Each night, he witnessed the unspeakable cruelty inflicted upon Poonguzhali by the bandits.

Sembavan owned a massive mansion in the capital. Wealthy merchants and members of the royal family frequently visited to purchase slaves at high prices.

One day, King Trivikrama himself arrived at Sembavan’s mansion. The slaves were lined up before him. Manimaran was selected to work in the royal palace.

His duty was to prepare and serve food for the king and his family. Occasionally, important guests dined with the king. Over time, Manimaran began to understand their political discussions. He learned the deepest secrets of the kingdom.

One day, Trivikrama visited Sembavan’s mansion, bringing Manimaran along. That night, Manimaran assisted in preparing the royal meal.

When the food was served, Trivikrama’s meal had been poisoned. To prove it, Manimaran ate the food himself.

Manimaran lost consciousness. He was given the finest medical treatment in the palace and survived. When he recovered, he sought King Trivikrama's permission to torture and execute Sembavan. He also demanded a complete abolition of slavery across the kingdom of Mahara Desam. Trivikrama agreed.

Within a few years, as Manimaran grew into a young man, he rose to become one of Trivikrama’s most trusted generals.

---*********---

Tara was like a star that forever shone in the sky. Even before her birth, Senthazhai would gaze at that star every night before she fell asleep. That was why she named her daughter Tara.

Tara had two older brothers who protected her like the apple of their eye. When she turned fourteen and came of age, they imposed several restrictions on her.

Tara’s father, Sathanar, was a wealthy landlord. Revolutionary soldiers would occasionally raid his granaries and steal sacks of stored grains, causing him great distress. To protect his land, he maintained a small private army of armed guards.

Every Friday, Tara would go to the nearby forest waterfall for a bath. She was accompanied by her friends and guarded by soldiers.

One day, as she reached the waterfall, she noticed a man swimming in the river. He was completely unclothed.

"If you step aside, I will leave," he said.

Tara and her friends hid behind a bush. Urged by her friends, she stole a glance at the man as he walked away, his body sculpted like a statue. Embarrassed, she covered her face. The man noticed her reaction and walked away with a knowing smile.

From that day on, every time Tara visited the waterfall, the man was there. He spoke to her gently, and love blossomed between them.

The guards, upon discovering this, informed Tara’s brothers. They investigated and found out that the man’s name was Sethupathi and that he was part of the revolutionary army.

After that, Tara was forbidden from seeing Sethupathi or continuing her love for him.

One day, Tara was nowhere to be found at home. She had left the village with Sethupathi.

Her brothers searched for them in the forest near the waterfall and finally found them lost in the bliss of their union.

Enraged, her brothers killed Sethupathi on the spot. Tara, in shock, fell into the waterfall. The strong current carried her away swiftly.

Despite searching extensively, her body was never found. Everyone assumed she was dead.

But Tara had survived. She had drifted to another village, where she wandered near the temple of Virushi, the guardian deity.

Men who saw her beauty desired her and lay with her. Yet, she found no satisfaction in any of them. The pleasure that had been interrupted with Sethupathi could not be fulfilled by any other man.

A few days later, one of the revolutionaries passing through the village recognized her.

He revealed that he was Sethupathi’s close friend and urged her to join their army.

Tara agreed. She sought their help in avenging the family that had killed her beloved.

A week later, she returned to her birthplace with the revolutionary forces and killed both of her brothers.

From that day forward, she carried within her a fire that never extinguished. With the untamed fury of a wild goddess, she fought in countless battles alongside the revolutionaries, striking terror into the hearts of her enemies.

---*************---

In that small village, the farmers were toiling in the fields. Small huts lined the edges of the farmland. Children played ball, their cheerful voices filling the air.

Chickens and goats ran among them, while elderly men sat in the village mandapam, exchanging stories.

Suddenly, the sleepy peace of the village was shattered.

Thousands of horses galloped at lightning speed, their riders charging forward with fierce battle cries.

The villagers, however, were not startled. They knew who these warriors were—the revolutionaries.

"By tomorrow, Thirivikraman’s head will hang from the fortress walls," an old man declared.

The people despised Thirivikraman’s rule. The excessive taxation on farmers and common folk had made them furious. The government supported wealthy merchants, Brahmins, and landlords, while the poor were drained dry like lifeless husks.

Magara Desam never had a stable rule. Its land carried the nature of fire—nothing lasted forever. One power would rise, only to crumble, and a new one would take its place. The royal families and revolutionaries kept alternating in power.

The revolutionaries' cavalry stormed towards Madurapuram like a raging storm. Aware of their approach, the fortress gates had already been sealed.

Warriors flung ropes over the fortress walls and climbed up. Those behind them launched fire weapons at the fortress. Some tried to break the massive gates using a giant wooden log. In retaliation, the fortress guards rained down arrows.

After several hours, the fortress gate collapsed. The revolutionary forces surged forward, slaughtering enemy warriors and advancing towards the palace.

Inside the palace, Manimaran fought bravely. But the enemy numbers were overwhelming. He was certain of his death.

At that moment, a masked warrior appeared before him. The warrior hesitated for a brief second before pulling off the mask—it was a woman. The same woman who had once summoned him to the Purisivas temple for a secret meeting. She swiftly grabbed his hand and urged him to follow her.

Both of them escaped the fortress. As they passed the fortress wall, Manimaran's body shuddered at the sight of Thirivikraman and Ezhilkumaran’s severed heads mounted on stakes.

The woman urged him to hurry. They both rode away on a horse at lightning speed.

After riding for several hours, they reached a lake. The woman halted the horse to rest.

"My name is Thara," she said.

Manimaran stared at her and asked, "Why are you taking me with you instead of killing me?”

"Even the smallest thorn can aid a revolution."

"Don’t you have any anger towards me? For humiliating you at the Purisivas temple? I was in great turmoil that day."

Thara moved closer to Manimaran and pressed her lips against his. Manimaran’s hands wandered across Thara’s body. Night descended. The moon in the sky watched their passionate drama without shame.

—————*************——————

Mullai Nagar was a city renowned for its Purisivas temple. This temple was built by Thirivikraman’s father, King Desinguraja. He had constructed it using prisoners of war as laborers. At the heart of the temple stood a towering statue of Purisivas, with a massive sacrificial altar in front of it. Smaller statues of other deities surrounded it. Behind the temple, there was a cave, with ancient murals depicting the legends of Purisivas.

Since ancient times, Magara Desam had been home to two primary factions. One group was the believers—they worshipped Purisivas as their supreme deity. They personified every aspect of nature into gods. The royal family had always supported this faction.

The second group consisted of non-believers. They rejected idol worship and believed that the unchanging laws of nature were the true divine force—formless and eternal. They followed a philosophy of revering nature in its purest form. This faction eventually evolved into the revolutionary group that opposed monarchy.

Beyond these two factions, there was a third group—mystics who meditated deep in the forests, seeking enlightenment through spiritual practices. These ascetics renounced all worldly ties and engaged in intense penance.

Purisivas was considered the sworn enemy of the non-believers. His decree was clear—every last child of the unbelievers must be eradicated. Thus, the deep-rooted enmity between the royal family and the revolutionaries was, at its core, a conflict of faith.

After Thirivikraman’s downfall, the remnants of the royal army dedicated themselves to protecting the temples. Their fear was that the revolutionary forces would destroy them completely. Hundreds of soldiers stood guard around the Purisivas temple in Mullai Nagar.

A short while later, the revolutionary forces entered Mullai Nagar. The royal army stood their ground fiercely, preventing them from nearing the Purisivas temple. A brutal battle broke out between the two forces. Eventually, the revolutionaries retreated.

The commander of the royal army warned that the enemy might return with greater numbers.

Not long after the revolutionary forces had left, Thara and Manimaran arrived at Mullai Nagar. Manimaran insisted that he would stay in the city and protect the Purisivas temple. Thara, however, assured him that no temple in the Magara kingdom would face destruction.

Manimaran did not believe her. Wanting to keep him close, Thara agreed to stay in Mullai Nagar for the night.

The next day, the revolutionaries re-entered the city with a larger army. Manimaran was eager to join the royal forces in battle. As the revolutionaries advanced toward the temple, a man on horseback approached from the opposite direction.

"Stop!" he commanded, raising his hands toward the revolutionary soldiers. He handed a scroll to their leader. After reading it, the leader ordered his troops to withdraw. The revolutionary forces left Mullai Nagar.

"Who is this man?" Manimaran asked Thara in astonishment.

"Meganathan. He is the advisor to our leader. Didn’t I tell you that not a single temple would be harmed? Meganathan is the reason for that."

"Does Meganathan believe in God?"

"No. But he knows how to respect the beliefs of others."

—————*************——————

After a morning journey the next day, they reached Mangalapuri.

Mangalapuri was one of the most important trade hubs of the Magara kingdom, connecting various regions through commerce.

At the city’s entrance stood a temple dedicated to Meghaladevi, the goddess of wealth. The road leading to the city’s center was crowded with bullock carts, hand-pulled wagons, and pedestrians, creating a bustling atmosphere.

Both of them dismounted from their horses and slowly walked into the crowd.

Manimaran had assumed that after the revolutionaries took control, the city would be in chaos, drenched in blood. However, he was mistaken. On the contrary, the city's operations were more orderly than before.

The first shops that they encountered were those selling vegetables, fruits, and rice pulses. Small traders were buying in bundles and reselling them.

In front of each shop, there were coolie laborers unloading and loading goods onto carts, their calls mixing with the commands of the supervisors overseeing them. Inside the shops, there were clerks assisting the shopkeepers. Behind the shops, there were storage spaces.

There was a high demand for spices and condiments like pepper and dried vegetables in Mangalapuri. These items were unloaded from carts in bundles and brought into the shops from the northern regions.

As they continued through the streets, they encountered jewelry shops. Young women, along with their lovers or husbands, were seen in these stores. The variety of ornaments made from gold, diamonds, pearls, and coral captivated the eye.

There were also stores selling perfumes and fragrances, filled with groups of young people. Mangalapuri was renowned for its fragrance products. The perfumes made from various flowers were famous throughout the Magara kingdom.

A little further down, they found stores selling short swords and small weapons. Some of the sword hilts were adorned with precious gems and gold, crafted beautifully.

Upon reaching the city center, they saw merchants sitting quietly in front of a pavilion. Revolutionary officials were explaining new regulations to them.

No merchant should charge more than the designated profit margin on goods. Workers should not be paid less than the set wage. No workers should be forced to work beyond their designated hours.

"A specified percentage must be paid as tax to the government. The officials also explained the punishments in detail if these rules were violated."

"Tara, I didn't expect this. Earlier, during the revolutionaries' rule, all commerce was under the control of the government. Private trading initiatives were crushed."

"Under Trivikrama's rule, merchants had complete freedom. There were many benefits for them, such as excessive profits, avoiding taxes, and paying workers lower wages. But we will create fair business and trade regulations. Our new rules will increase the purchasing power of the people. By increasing sales, the net income of traders will multiply. This will benefit both parties. The taxes collected from the traders will be used to build wide roads that will connect the entire Magara kingdom. Rest houses will be set up for travelers. As a result, traders will become supportive of our revolutionaries."

"How did this change occur in the revolutionaries' thoughts?"

"Earlier, we were guided by the military commanders. Now, learned scholars are guiding our leadership. In contrast, Trivikrama's reign was governed by the ignorant. It took only two days for our revolutionary army to reach the capital. There was no resistance anywhere. The king's armies gave way and retreated."

Manimaran remained silent.

"Manimaran, join us. We will give you the respect you deserve, someone like you, a great warrior."

"I am indebted to Trivikrama and the royal family."

"Their heads are hanging on the fortress wall."

Both of them reached an inn near the city's boundary. Tara removed her clothes and lay down on the ground. Seeing the fullness of her back, Manimaran, overwhelmed by desire, placed his hands on the curves of her waist.

Tara pushed his hands away.

                                           ——-*******———

The next day, the two of them reached a city called Villipuram. They stayed there for a day to rest before continuing their journey. Along the way, they came across a river. There, both of them swam and engaged in water sports. The unique pleasure of swimming together and teasing each other brought them both immense joy.

They arrived at a small hut. There was a large garden in front of the house. Various flowers filled the air with a delightful fragrance, and their vibrant colors were pleasing to the eyes.

"Tara, what’s our purpose here?"

"Tonight, we will stay here and continue our journey tomorrow."

"Who lives here? Do you know them?"

"Yes. My lover."

At that moment, a young man came out of the hut and embraced Tara. He lifted her and carried her into the hut, locking the door behind them.

Manimaran remained seated outside the house.

The sounds from inside stirred unease within him. However, he did not feel any anger towards Tara. In the land of Magara, it was not uncommon for women to have relations with more than one man, both before and after marriage.

After a while, Tara emerged from the hut.

"Manimaran, the house is small. There is only one room. So, you will have to sleep outside tonight."

Manimaran pondered inwardly, questioning whether this cruelty was intentional. He did not miss the shy smile on Tara's face.

While strolling in the garden, Manimaran noticed that there were some paintings hanging on the walls. All of them depicted naked women, with male and female lovers portrayed in intimate scenes.

The sculptors and painters of Magara Desam, why do they always focus on depicting passion, Manimaran thought, troubled by the constant obsession with sensuality.

The next morning, Tara called Manimaran. Inside, Tara was lying after their union, which had been painted as a portrait by her lover.

“How is it?” Tara asked shyly.

Manimaran pounced on her, pushing her onto the ground. Her lover closed the door and left the room.

By noon, the two of them continued their journey once again.

“Tara, I’ve asked you many times, and you still haven’t told me where you’re taking me.”

“I know that you don’t have any affection for our revolutionary group. I won’t force you, but I know that you have a connection to this land of Magara. That’s why you must come with me to the place I’m taking you.”

“Where?”

“To the clock in Ponnagaram. There, we will meet the three of us.”

———-**********————

Ponnagaram was still a few hours of travel away. The horses were exhausted.

Manimaran recalled the promise he had made to Trivikrama. The reason he had joined Tara was to kill Killi Valavan, the leader of the revolutionary group. Was he going to meet Killi Valavan in Ponnagaram? Tara said three, and Manimaran assumed that they were of equal authority to Killi Valavan. Major plans for the future were about to unfold.

Tara had avoided giving direct answers to all of Manimaran’s questions. She should no longer be allowed to take him lightly. He stopped his horse and sat under a tamarind tree.

Realizing that Manimaran was no longer following her, Tara came to him.

“It’s just a little more travel. Why the exhaustion so soon?”

“You’ve made it very easy for me to be dismissed. Without knowing your plans, I won’t leave this place.”

“What do you need to know?”

“Who are the three we are going to meet?”

“Agni Devan, Meghnathan, and Neelakandan. There’s going to be a conference in Ponnagaram about the future of our country. Our group leader, Killi Valavan, will also join with them.”

“What is my role in this?”

“The political plans for making our country stable for many centuries are going to be debated at the Ponnagaram clock. Agni Devan knows some truths. We both need to undertake long travels related to this. I’ve said everything I know. Is that enough?”

“The reason you chose me as your opposite.”

“To unify the people of the country. Through this, we are signaling our intention to work together with the opposing side. This is Agni Devan’s decision. No one else, including Killi Valavan, knows about this.”

“I know Killi Valavan. Who are the other three?”

“The sculptors who are going to construct the political structure of this country. Tomorrow’s history will talk more about these three than about Killi Valavan.”

“It’s necessary for the current society to understand them before future generations learn about them through history. Tell us a story about these three, their complete history.”

Tara sat beside Manimaran. She began to tell the story of the three.

                                                      Agni Devan

The forest of Tāṭakai was a sacred place where scholars resided. In this sanctuary, hermits had established their ashrams and imparted their wisdom to disciples. The towering trees, the hum of the bees, the songs of diverse birds, and the occasional roars of wild animals created a natural beauty that made the forest an ideal setting for education. The forest also housed wild animals, who were not permitted to approach the ashrams.

Iḍumpan, a young wild boy, had lost his parents at an early age. The forest raised him, teaching him to climb trees, swim in rivers, and ride elephants. He lived like a prince of the forest.

Driven only by instinct, Iḍumpan first experienced the spark of thought at the age of ten. One night, lying atop a tree, gazing at the moon in the sky, a thought struck him: Is the moon revolving around the earth, or is it the other way around? If he, on Earth, perceives the moon to be revolving, would a person on the moon perceive Earth as revolving around them? This realization sparked a turmoil in his mind.

From that moment, he began to observe the events around him with a different perspective. Why did animals, who had no consciousness like humans, possess self-awareness? Did plants have consciousness? If one broke down objects into smaller and smaller parts, would there eventually be indivisible particles? His questions were many, but the answers eluded him. He soon realized that to answer these questions, he needed a teacher.

One day, while walking along the riverbank, he noticed an ashram. This ashram belonged to the sage Devadeva. Iḍumpan observed the happenings at the ashram for a while. He disguised himself as one of the disciples and entered the ashram.

He changed his name to Agni Devan and quickly grew disillusioned with the teachings at the ashram. The discussions on the soul, reincarnation, and karma did not resonate with him. What he longed to learn was nature—the mysteries of the vast universe that surrounded him. But the ashram did not provide the kind of education he sought.

He left the hermitage and wandered again in the forest. One day, he saw a sage named Kruthathan bathing in the river. He felt drawn to him. His inner voice told him, "This person may be the one who can bestow knowledge upon me." Kruthathan accepted him as his disciple.

Kruthathan imparted immeasurable knowledge to him about the origin of the universe, the nature of atoms, the evolution of life, and more. Agnidevan was astonished by how he knew all this. Like other sages, Agnithaeven once asked him, "Is it through divine blessing during meditation that you know these truths?" Kruthathan explained to him that the highest form of meditation is simply to observe and pay close attention to the nature that surrounds us.

Once in every ten years, Kruthathan and Agnidevan went to participate in a philosophical debate held in the royal court of the Makar Kingdom. In these debates, everyone must defend their philosophical knowledge through logic. One must use the same logic to refute the philosophy of their opponents. After winning several debates, Kruthathan faced a final debate with a sage named Sukradevan. Despite Kruthathan's sharp logic, Sukradevan emerged victorious.

Returning to the forest, Kruthathan was deeply saddened. Within a few days, he passed away. Agnidevan, having lost his guru, seemed to have lost his mind. He realized that logic alone was not enough to understand the true nature of the universe. He needed a different language, a language beyond logic, to grasp these truths. He became determined to find that language.

After much hard work, he created a new language composed of numbers and symbols. He named it "Akshara Mathematics." Through this, many of the questions that had no answers for him earlier were now explained.

One day, while holding a clay pot in his hand, the pot slipped and broke. Agnidevan was struck by the question, "Why can't the broken pot return to its original state?" He realized that any object, when it interacts with other objects, loses its energy in the form of heat. Once it loses its heat, it cannot be regained. After the object has transformed, it cannot return to its former state. Hence, he concluded that decay is eternal in nature. In the universe, decay increases and never diminishes. He proved this theory of decay through his mathematical language.

The next year, Agnidevan participated in the debate held in the royal court. During the final round, the debate reached a point where neither side could prove their arguments using logic. At that moment, Agnidevan declared that he could prove his point through a new language.

Everyone was eager to learn about this new language. However, no one could understand the new mathematical language. People accused him of fraud. The king ordered Agnidevan's arrest.

Two years later, Agnidevan escaped from prison and met Killivalavan. He said that he could help bring down the king of Makar Desam and avenge the wrongs done to them.

Using his scientific skills, Agnidevan created several mechanical weapons and provided them to the revolutionary army. Meanwhile, King Thirivikraman was crowned as the ruler of Makar Desam. Twelve years after his reign, the revolutionary forces captured the throne. Agnidevan's mechanical inventions played a significant role in this victory.

As a reward for his help, Agnidevan was granted permission to construct a grand clock in the city of Ponnagar. There, he decided that he would teach advanced science, mathematics, philosophy, and literature.

A few months ago, his dream was realized. The clock in Ponnagar was built, and it became the center for determining the political direction of Makar Desam.

                                                        Megnathan

Mallipuram was a famous city in Makar Desam. The mallipoo (jasmine) flowers from this city were in great demand in other cities. The people of Makar Desam had mastered the art of extracting various fragrant liquids from these mallipoo flowers.

In that city, there was a wealthy landowner named Vallapan. His wife had frequent illnesses and had a frail body. They had only one son, Megnathan, who had not spoken for many years. After visiting several doctors and temples, it took six years for him to finally speak. His first word was “Mallipoo."

Within a month of Megnathan starting to speak, his mother passed away. Both Megnathan and his father were deeply affected by this loss. His mother had always been bedridden and had very few moments of happiness spent with her family.

After her death, a woman named Neelambari began visiting their house frequently. She and Vallapan would often engage in long conversations, laughing together. They would drink wine along with their evening meals, and later, both would go to the bedroom.

Megnathan eagerly looked forward to Neelambari’s visits. Her daughter, Mallika, would accompany her, and he greatly enjoyed playing with her. In these games, they would take on different roles such as husband and wife, king and queen, friend and companion. When night came, both would sleep in the same bed.

One day, when Mallika came to the house, Megnathan noticed a significant change in her. She didn't look at him or make eye contact, and she seemed shy, keeping her head down. When he invited her to play, she refused. That night, she slept in another room.

One day, Megnathan noticed Mallika crying alone in a corner of the house. She later told him that her mother, Neelambari, had ordered her to go to Vallapan's room that night.

Megnathan and Mallika secretly escaped from the house and hid in a nearby coconut grove. That night, under the light of the moon, they experienced their first intimacy. In the morning, Vallapan’s men found them and brought them before him. Vallapan spoke in private with Neelambari, without saying anything to the two of them.

The next day, Mallika was taken to the capital city of Makar Desam, where she was introduced to the royal palace. She quickly became a favorite of the king. Expensive clothes, jewelry, and a life of luxury changed Mallika’s nature. She soon forgot about Megnathan.

After Mallika’s departure, Megnathan wandered around in despair, like a man driven mad. Once, he saw Mallika at a temple in the capital city. When she saw his condition, she looked at him with disdain and quickly walked away from him.

After this, Megnathan became a slave to alcohol. After drinking, he wandered around the palace in search of Mallika. One night, a poet named Thirukkizhar found him lying drunk and took him to his home.

When Megnathan woke up in the morning, the poet told him, "The goddess of learning resides in your tongue." The poet explained that the words he had muttered while intoxicated showed poetic talent and that they revealed the philosophy of life. He invited him to stay with him and learn arts and literature. Megnathan agreed and gave up his drinking habit.

As time passed, Megnathan’s poetic skill grew. He completed a grand epic, which was given an opportunity to be presented at the royal court. However, his epic was not accepted by the other poets. They criticized it for being disorganized, not following the proper meter, with deliberate grammatical errors, mocking the gods, and even ridiculing the king. The general consensus among the poets was that the poem was fragmented and lacked coherence.

The next day, Megnathan received an invitation to the palace. The queen praised his poetry, saying it greatly captivated her, and that it was a revolutionary work in literature. She invited him to visit her often.

Each time he visited the palace, the queen gave him expensive gifts, which Megnathan accepted without refusal. Through the queen’s patronage, Megnathan’s epic became highly popular among the women. Many young women developed feelings for him, but Megnathan remained uninterested in any of them. His thoughts were entirely consumed by the creation of his poetry, which he believed would endure through time.

One day, when he went to the palace, he found that the queen was not there. He learned that the king had passed away, and his son, Thirivikraman, had ascended to the throne. A few days after Thirivikraman’s coronation, Mallika came to Megnathan’s house with a male child. She explained that Thirivikraman had ordered the execution of all potential royal heirs, fearing rivals to his throne. Fearing for her life, Mallika had come to Megnathan seeking refuge.

Megnathan decided to escape with Mallika and leave the capital city. However, they were captured by Thirivikraman’s soldiers.

The child would surely be killed. However, the soldiers told Megnathan that if he obeyed one of Thirivikraman’s commands, both he and Mallika would be released.

Thirivikraman instructed that a poem be composed following traditional literary rules, and it must be one that praises himself.

Following his command, Megnathan composed a song. Thirivikraman ordered that both he and Mallika be released. However, Thirivikraman’s chief poet intervened, claiming that the poem mocked Thirivikraman’s father. Angered by this, Thirivikraman ordered that Megnathan be imprisoned.

In prison, Megnathan met Agnidevan. He realized that his concept of the decay of the universe and his poems were connected. Together, they devised a plan to escape. They befriended another prisoner, a revolutionary, who helped them escape. They met with Killivalavan.

Killivalavan insisted that through poetry, they must awaken a revolution among the people.

Megnathan requested that no temples or artistic treasures should be destroyed in the process. After his plea, the destruction of temples was halted.

Megnathan's emotionally profound poems inspired the people, and this played a key role in Thirivikraman’s eventual downfall.

                                                                Neelakandan

Neelakandan wandered the streets of Muthunagar. He was starving and weak, yet he remained determined not to beg or ask for charity from anyone.

He hailed from the village of Chinnipuram. His father had once been a great merchant, dealing in groceries, clothes, and jewelry. He also owned farmlands.

One time, a severe famine struck the village. Many people died, and in their anger, they killed the local rulers and looted their goods. Neelakandan’s father also perished in this chaos. Neelakandan managed to escape and reached Muthunagar.

He wandered through the merchant streets, looking for work. The merchants quickly assessed that he was someone who had never done any physical labor, making it difficult for him to find a job.

Exhausted, he sat down near a large shop. The workers moved busily, loading and unloading goods into carts, working like ants.

Inside the shop, there was a heated argument between the owner and the chief manager. They were debating how many varieties of lentils to purchase in the next three months.

Neelakandan interrupted. He pointed out that lentils grow abundantly in the Manipur region. However, due to the failure of the monsoon, there would be a shortage in the coming month, and it would be wise to purchase them in bulk now.

Upon hearing this, the manager approached Neelakandan in anger. The owner intervened, agreeing to follow Neelakandan's advice. He promised that if Neelakandan's suggestion proved correct, he would appoint him as the chief manager. If not, Neelakandan would have to work for him without any salary for the rest of his life.

Three months later, it was proven that Neelakandan’s suggestion was correct. He was appointed as the chief manager of the shop. Later, he started his own stores and accumulated great wealth.

Several years later, he returned to his native village, only to find that it had just recovered from a great famine. Neelakandan met with the village leader and suggested a plan.

He proposed that every villager contribute a portion of their income each month to form a community fund. This fund should be protected as the village's collective property and must not be used for any other purpose. In the event of another famine, it should be distributed to the people. He also suggested that, instead of solely relying on the seasonal rains, the villagers should grow crops that could yield produce in any conditions.

The leader accepted the suggestion. Four years later, when a famine struck, Chinnipuran easily overcame the crisis.

Suddenly, one day, Neelakandan gave away all his wealth to the village and disappeared. His interest in education had grown. He traveled to all the great clocks of the Makar Kingdom. However, he could not find the answers he sought. He was eager to gain formal knowledge in commerce and economics. He wanted to understand the fundamental rules that govern these fields. He had no doubt that a nation’s economy determined its political landscape. However, there were no books written on this topic.

He then decided to write it himself and completed the book in three years. He went to the royal court of King Trivikraman, who was the reigning monarch, and explained his book.

The king’s chief minister feared that his position would be at risk due to this, so he arranged for Neelakandan to be imprisoned.

In prison, Neelakandan found friendship with both Agnithevan and Meghnathan. Together, they managed to escape from prison and met with Killi Vallavan.

The revolutionary army made the mistake of being on the side of the working class, but it was wrong to raid and plunder the merchants and the wealthy. The failures of the revolutionary army’s campaigns were mainly due to a lack of resources. To fight against the king, great wealth was needed, and for that, the support of the rich was crucial. Both the working class and the wealthy must grow together, and plans should be made in a way that benefits both groups, Neelakandan advised.

Neelakandan’s counsel was a key factor in the easy defeat of King Trivikraman.

                                                ——-******———

                                                           Part 3: Utopia

The form of absolute rule conducted within the boundaries of democracy is the finest form of governance.

After reading the documents titled The Democratic History of the Utopian Nation, Marx was led to this conclusion.

At that time, Marx, who was the current president of the nation, had learned many lessons from reading about the methods of the leaders who had ruled before him.

In the Utopian nation, monarchy had ended, and democracy had flourished for nearly five hundred years. The power to create laws rested with the Senate. While the president could only offer suggestions regarding what laws should be made and their philosophical structure, the details of the law were refined, and a vote was held in the Senate. Once the law was passed, it was only enforced after receiving the final approval of the president.

The way certain presidents dealt with the obstacles set by the Senate left Marx astounded. In particular, the actions of the tenth president, Theodore, in passing the law granting women the right to vote, were extraordinary. The procedures of debates, divisions, and punishments to enact the law were remarkable. To counter every senator who opposed the law, he promised to build temples, museums, and universities in their constituencies. The power to spend the funds allotted for that scheme was given to the senators. Even though corruption in these projects was widespread, it was ignored. During the next election, Theodore assured that no senator would stand against his party. In the end, only one senator’s support remained to be gained. Under the pretext of discussing the law, the senator was confined to a room in the president's palace. The president's advisors negotiated with him 24 hours a day. Only after the senator's support was secured was he allowed to leave the palace.

This was the way some presidents used their influence and creative thinking to deal with the Senate.

Senate President Hegel was waiting to have a conversation, as his assistant informed. Upon hearing this, Marx descended from the upper floor to the room.

Inside, Hegel was reading some documents.

"Do you consider the people of this country to be intellectuals, or a foolish, mindless crowd? Can you provide a solution to my confusion, Hegel?"

"What is the cause of the confusion in the President of Utopia's mind?"

"Two years ago, I won the presidential election. The next year, in the Senate elections, your party won. Doesn’t this seem foolish?"

"I don't think so."

"All the bills I send are rejected by your Senate. None of the bills sent by the Senate satisfy me. So, there is a state of deadlock in the country."

"When we chose a democratic system for our nation, this is exactly how it was meant to be by the founders of our country."

"I don’t understand."

"Great changes, revolutions, and unchecked power with the government. All of these must be constrained, and that is the core purpose of democracy."

"If stagnation, immobility, and deadlock are the result of democracy, then we must embrace them. The people yearn for a straightforward autocracy."

"Is it the people who yearn, or is it you?"

"We will debate our philosophical conflict later. I need an explanation of why the bills I proposed were rejected by the Senate."

"Let’s first talk about the healthcare reform bill you sent. The goal of this bill is to make healthcare free. To fund this, taxes should be imposed on the people. But there are some issues with this. If healthcare becomes free, people will end up consulting doctors even for simple colds or fevers. This will increase the burden on the healthcare system rather than reduce it. Moreover, raising taxes to fund this will negatively impact other public services. On the one hand, making everything free will increase the number of people seeking services. However, this will result in increased taxes, which could lead to economic deficits."

"You are discussing problematic issues, but your points are significant. From my perspective, this would only cause a challenge, and implementing it could become complicated."

"But the point is, you must understand the intention behind it. The people want their basic needs met. They need guidance and restrictions on how to provide it."

"Regarding the political constraints, we also need to discuss that. It must align with providing service to the people."

"Alright, so what you are saying is that providing for the people’s basic needs and fulfilling those needs is essential. But how this is carried out must align with the economy and public service structures."

"I understand what you're saying. Therefore, when implementing this, your suggestions must be considered. Health insurance and tax systems must be revised, and the economic impact must be taken into account before such a law can be enacted. If the law is enacted The demand for medical services will increase. There are not enough doctors in the country to meet this demand. Doctors will raise their fees. The country's finances will be impacted. Taxes will need to be increased on the people. Do you see the problem?"

"This is a very negative thought. The solutions to the issues you've raised are included in the bill."

"They may be. My recommendation is to first implement this bill in just one province and test it. Then, gradually implement it in other provinces. This will help address the problems and shortcomings, and we can bring a clearer bill to the national level."

"That will take twenty years. My term will end in ten years."

"That may be true. But this is how democracy must work. The road construction law we passed last year was designed twenty years ago, and after many failures, it was implemented during your administration. You received credit for it. But the foundation for this came from former presidents and the Senate. They even lost elections because of this."

"Next, the sales tax bill you suggested for the whole country. Currently, the sales tax rate differs in each province. If a uniform rate is implemented, some provinces will face a financial shortfall. Therefore, they oppose it. If you adjust the rate to satisfy them, the people will be dissatisfied."

Marx walked around the room silently for a while.

"Generally, this is the opinion about government administration. The people advising you are unqualified. You should replace them. The government administration and the legislative branch should work in harmony. This is not just my opinion; even people from your own party are saying this."

"It’s not the advisors that need changing. It’s the Senate."

Hegel was shocked. "What are you saying?”

Yuta University is the most important educational institution in Principia City. It is located in a vast area in the center of the city. The university was founded a thousand years ago.

After Jogan's mother went to the celestial realm, a new religion called 'Madas' was formed in the country of Utopia, with her being regarded as a deity. Joshua was considered the primary god of this religion. Over time, 'Madas' became the only religion in the country of Utopia. This religion needed some fundamental philosophical ideas. Five sages came together and developed the basic tenets of the faith. It was believed that during their deep meditation, Joshua revealed these thoughts to them as visions. Concepts like the creation of the universe, reincarnation, and fate were compiled into a religious scripture. The life of Jogan’s mother and the ethical guidelines needed for the people were also included as teachings in this book. It became known as a holy scripture.

To spread these ideas and hold discussions about them, an institution was required. In response to this need, Yuta University was established. Initially, only religious doctrines were taught. Over time, however, subjects like literature, art, crafts, aging mathematics, and science were added to the curriculum.

Spinoza worked in the field of science at this university. At that time, the country of Utopia was in its early stages regarding science. Religious superstitions were also intertwined with science. Concepts like reincarnation, fate, and astrology, which were not supported by evidence, were considered scientific subjects.

Spinoza aimed to bring about a revolution in science. He adopted a rational approach to scientific inquiry, grounded in mathematics.

After years of hard work, he had the opportunity to present his new theories to the senior professors of the university. With a nervous heart, he introduced his theories.

"So, what I propose is that the universe exists due to the gravitational force between objects."

The head professor, Herbert, and the other professors were listening to Spinoza's speech with little interest.

"Why such a fuss about explaining gravity? I have felt this gravitational force when my wife stands half-naked in front of me before the night mixes with the dawn."

Herbert’s comment made the other professors burst into loud laughter, as if they had heard an amusing joke.

Spinoza, embarrassed, became flustered. He could no longer explain his theory without further hindrance. After a great effort, he continued.

"Gravitational force exists between all objects, including inanimate objects."

"If there is gravitational force between me and the desk in front of me, then why haven’t I collided with this desk?"

"Gravitational force depends on the mass of the objects and the distance between them. The more mass and the closer the objects are to each other, the greater the gravitational force."

"My mass and the mass of this desk are not insignificant."

"I am talking about forces between objects the size of planets. The Earth orbits the Sun due to gravitational force. The Moon orbits the Earth due to gravitational force. Without gravitational force, it would not be possible for large objects to form. The universe would only consist of particles. These particles would collide with each other, creating disorder. The universe was formed due to gravitational force. The universe remains stable due to gravitational force. And the destruction of the universe tomorrow will also be due to gravitational force."

"I have read your explanations. In them, I saw some words and thoughts combined in a way that I couldn't understand. It felt like reading a new language. What is that?"

"This is the modern new form of mathematics."

"Spinoza, I cannot believe what you are saying. But if what you say is true, you should not have been born in this era. You should have been born many hundreds of years later. Do not waste your time with small-minded people like us."

"Professors, I need a little help. Please grant me permission to continue my research and provide me with financial assistance."

"That is not possible. You need the approval of the government for that. Research like this will definitely not get funding."

"If you recommend it, it will definitely happen. Please show some compassion."

"Here’s what you can do. Right now, any research on astrology will immediately receive financial assistance from the government. Give a new explanation of astrology. Create a new theory through your gravitational force on how the other planets determine our future. By doing this, you can continue your research indirectly, and I will have no objection."

"Your advice is against science. Astrology is mere pseudoscience. The purpose of science is only to discover the truth."

"You must have a lot of courage to oppose us. If I wanted to, I could make it impossible for you to even step foot in this university."

"I have no patience for this foolish assembly."

Spinoza left the room in anger.

Following him, Professor Spencer came in.

"Spinoza, neither the university nor the government will help you. I have a suggestion for you. Based on your theory, create modern machines. You can seek the help of the wealthy merchants in this city. This would be a good opportunity for you to test how your theory works in real life. What do you say?"

"But who will fund me, trusting my theory?"

"There is a merchant named Voltaire in this city. You can seek his help."

"I will follow your advice. Thank you for your help."

Seeing Spinoza leave with renewed enthusiasm, Spencer's face broke into a joyful smile.

‘Blue Park’ was a large garment manufacturing factory in Utopia. Thousands of weavers worked at the factory, where the fabrics were mostly woven by hand. Recently, due to competition, Blue Park had been deteriorating, and its founder, David, decided that the factory should be shut down. It was at this moment that he met Nietzshe.

Nietzshe was a creator of remarkable machines. He assured David that he could create a machine capable of weaving, one that could do the work of a hundred people.

Nietzshe had spent a year developing the machine. He designed several prototypes, all of which ended in failure. David, having lost patience, agreed to give Nietzshe one final chance when he begged for it.

The day came when David would see the machine in action. The machine, which resembled a giant bird with wide-spread wings, was something Nietzshe observed closely without blinking. The machine was made of wooden planks and rollers, and after many trials and adjustments, it was finally ready.

As David stepped into the room, he shuddered at the sight of the machine's grandeur.

"This time, I feel it will work correctly," said David.

"This time it will not fail. I have tested it repeatedly, fine-tuning it. I haven't slept for two weeks," replied Nietzshe.

"I don't care about your lack of sleep. If the machine doesn't work today, the factory will be closed. You will lose your job.”

The machine worked perfectly the first time. The second time, the fabric got stuck and the machine stopped. After fixing that, on the third attempt, some of the machine's plates broke, and the machine stopped working.

Nietzshe stood there as if he was in a daze. David said nothing and left the place. The guards kicked Nietzshe out of the factory.

Nietzshe walked through the streets in frustration, with no idea where he was heading. He went to a tavern and sat in a secluded corner. There, a man and a woman were laughing loudly, enjoying themselves and talking happily.

After drinking two cups of wine, Nietzshe felt a little lighter. He noticed a young man sitting across from him. Sensing that the young man, too, seemed frustrated, Nietzshe struck up a conversation.

"Young man, look at the people around here. None of them worry about what tomorrow will bring. Tomorrow, they might lose their jobs. When they go home, their wives might be angry and upset with them. Their children might not respect them. But do any of them care about this? See how they spend this moment so joyfully. Why can't you, too, live this way, just for one day?"

"My father always says that a fool is one who worries about the future. No scholar can predict what the next moment will bring. According to his words, we are both fools. Yes, I, Spinoza, am a complete fool."

"And I, Nietzshe, am a fool as well."

The two shared the reasons for their frustrations. Then, Spinoza suggested an idea.

"There might be some flaw in the design of your machine scientifically. I can help you fix it."

"I can’t go there anymore. I’ve lost my job."

"Don’t worry. I’ll talk to David."

The two met David the next day. After a lot of effort, they were given another chance to fix the machine.

They worked hard for two days and finally fixed the machine. They successfully demonstrated it to David.

"Nietzshe, I can’t take you back into work by myself. But if your friend agrees, I can offer both of you work."

Nietzshe was about to happily agree, but Spinoza interrupted and stopped him.

"We don’t want to work here."

The two left the factory.

"Nietzshe, you might be angry with me. Innovations are always followed by great struggles, but they do lead to success. In particular, we can see examples of innovations in science. David is not the right person for our efforts. He lacks patience. I have another suggestion. There is a merchant here named Voltaire. I believe he can help us in the right way. We can meet him tomorrow."

"We shouldn’t have rejected David right away. We could have talked to Voltaire and, once we’re sure about his help, then rejected David."

"David is short-sighted. His immediate gains are his only goal. Even if our meeting with Voltaire fails tomorrow, going back to David for work wouldn’t be wise."

Spinoza’s suggestion wasn’t fully accepted by Nietzshe. With confused thoughts, he headed home.

                                                 ——-********———

The study room of Marx was lit by lamps. Candles were burning on the table. Marx was someone who would sleep late and wake up early. He spent a lot of time reading at night. He often read historical documents.

There was a slight disturbance in the room. Marx’s daughter, Stella, was standing near the door.

“I haven’t been sleeping well for the past few days. The weather has changed, and the humidity is high. I thought I’d come and speak with you for a bit.”

“I’ve been reading some historical documents. History is a spiral. The past history will come again in a new form. Countries and leaders who don’t learn from the events of the past will make the same mistakes their ancestors made. Such countries will decay. I am firm in my resolve not to make that mistake. That’s why I’m carefully reading history spanning several hundred years. I’m learning lessons from it.”

“I feel the urge to read as well. I will take some of these to my room.”

“There’s no problem as long as what you take reaches its proper place without any mistake.”

Stella took some documents and went to her room. As she quickly glanced through everything, one particular document caught her attention. She picked it up and began reading.

                                                          James

The transformation of Utopia from a monarchy to a democracy was not brought about by a leader or a warrior, but by a writer—James. Through his writings, he deeply engraved the thought that “All men are equal” in the minds of the people.

James’s father was from a royal lineage. In terms of status, he was equivalent to a minor landowner. A few small villages were under his control.

In his childhood, James was frequently sick, and he had a frail body. He had little interest in military training. However, he had a great passion for learning, particularly the history of the country of Utopia, which he found most fascinating.

Later, James developed an interest in writing poetry. After that, he began writing plays. However, he never liked his own writings, so he never showed them to anyone else.

When he was fourteen years old, his health suddenly deteriorated. Doctors could not identify what illness he had. Everyone thought he would die. But one day, after an entire day of rest, he returned to a normal state of health. He claimed that on the first night, he had a profound experience where Joshua appeared before him and said, “You haven’t yet completed the work that was assigned to you. Why the hurry?” and then vanished. After this event, James developed a deep interest in spirituality. He began to pray in temples regularly.

Whenever he went to the temple, he noticed a woman named Nancy. He felt an attraction towards her. After some hesitation, he spoke to her. Nancy’s father was a weaver. After becoming familiar with her, he started visiting her place, which was a settlement where people of low social status lived. Seeing the hardships people endured there shocked James. He saw children huddled together in makeshift shelters, families struggling for food, and people lying in the open with no place to stay. His heart ached at the sight.

Determined to help these people, he spoke to his father about it.

“What concern do you have for pigs living in the gutter? It is their destiny. Nothing can be changed.”

“Our financial situation is quite good. With it, we could build homes for them. Every day, we have food left over that is thrown away. But they sometimes suffer without food. Will Joshua forgive us for this?”

“Son, remember one thing. We are not responsible for their miserable condition. They are sinners. They have committed great sins in their past lives. That’s why Joshua has made them go through this hardship in this life. If we help them, their sins will taint us as well.”

“They are not sinners. They are human beings, just like us. They are our equals. In no way are they inferior to us.”

James's father scolded him.

"Are pigs and I equal? How much courage do you need to say such a thing?"

After this, James was prohibited from meeting Nancy. However, secretly, James met Nancy at his own palace. She read the plays he had written and was deeply impressed. Each play had a profound impact on her. They both decided that these plays should be staged.

With the help of her friends, Nancy created stage productions of the plays. Most of the plays focused on the virtues of Johan’s mother. These plays were very well received by the public.

James's father found out about his meetings with Nancy at the palace. He scolded James and threatened that if she came again, her life would be in danger.

James suffered greatly from not meeting Nancy. He returned to her place and, upon seeing the stage version of his play, he was amazed. He thought the stage version was far superior to his writing.

After that, he began to write a new play called "The Protagonist." This time, instead of a spiritual play, he wrote a political one. The story was about the exploitation of the poor and a hero who fights to save them. The hero overthrows the monarchy and creates a new system of government, where the people themselves choose the ruler. The play ends with the hero declaring, “In Joshua’s creation, all men are equal.” This play sowed the seeds of the idea of democracy.

The play received great enthusiasm from the people. It was performed across the entire country of Utopia. The king, fearful, banned the play. However, the play continued to be performed. Violent attacks by royal soldiers took place at the locations where the plays were staged.

During one such attack, Nancy was killed. After her death, James, holding his grief, disappeared into the shadows.

Both Nancy and James remained in the hearts of the people of Utopia. Their artistic creation became the primary catalyst for the struggle of the democratic movement, which arose twenty years later, against the monarchy.

After reading the documents, Stella went to sleep. That night, in her dreams, James and Nancy appeared.

———*************———

When Stella arrived at Marx's study, she encountered a new individual. Upon noticing her, he offered a gentle smile. For a moment, Stella's heartbeat seemed to halt. There was something magnetic about this young man.

"Stella, this is Rousseau, the son of a prominent industrialist. He has a deep passion for knowledge. History, in particular, fascinates him. I have appointed him to document the period of my leadership."

"The President has instructed that all aspects, both accomplishments and shortcomings, be recorded with complete honesty."

Rousseau's voice, which combined the strength of masculinity with a hint of gentleness, captivated Stella.

"It would not be appropriate for me to read your documents, Stella. You will be the one to do so."

Marx left to meet with the minister, leaving Stella and Rousseau alone.

"What is your assessment of my father's rule?" Rousseau inquired.

"There are indeed notable achievements. The country's economy has never been in such an exceptional state. The people are content and prosperous. He has successfully suppressed the attacks from bandits at the borders. Roads have been constructed throughout the nation. As for the shortcomings, there is a lack of cooperation with the Senate. The government has failed to unite the various factions of the country. History will undoubtedly regard Marx as a figure of achievement."

"My father sees it differently. In his view, he has only fulfilled a very small percentage of his grand vision."

"My father is a man of impatience, yet he believes that society cannot match his pace. They view the principle of 'gradual, steady, and substantive change,' which underpins the foundation of this nation's political structure, as a significant hindrance," Rousseau remarked.

"That is indeed a valid point," Stella responded thoughtfully.

"The man who abolished the monarchy and became the first president was Peter. Are you acquainted with Matthew, his right-hand man? He was the architect of this nation's political constitution. Rarely spoken of in history, he is nevertheless one of the country's founding fathers. It was he who laid the foundation for the principle of 'steady change' that forms the very core of our political system."

Rousseau handed Stella the documents concerning Matthew, and she became deeply absorbed in her reading.

Matthew

Matthew was enraptured, a sense of exhilaration overwhelming him. It would take time to recover from it. Each time the protagonist encountered the conclusion of the play, he found himself drawn into that very state of awe. In his lifetime, Matthew had never witnessed a play like The Protagonist. Previous works had all focused on extolling the virtues of Jogen's mother and those who followed her. But The Protagonist was different. It illuminated the exploiters of the people, tore them down, and instilled hope among the poor and downtrodden.

The Protagonist had been banned by the government. It was possible to view it in the larger cities, but in the smaller towns, the authorities were unable to prevent its performance. Nevertheless, people from the cities would travel to watch the play.

When Matthew returned home after attending the play, the lines would reverberate in his mind. He would speak them aloud, reenacting the scenes. He wondered when the protagonist destined to save Utopia would appear. Could the change occur naturally, without external intervention?

Matthew's father was a farmer, a man of modest means. His dream was to send his son to study at Judah University in the city of Principia. In pursuit of this dream, Matthew had developed a keen interest in his studies. He had mastered the history of Utopia, keeping it at his fingertips. To fund his son's education, his father had been steadily saving small sums of money over the years.

At the time, the king of Utopia was Donald, a man of great strength, with a massive following among the people. However, as the last king of Utopia, his reign ended with the advent of a revolution, giving way to a democratic system. The cause of this upheaval was a foolish scheme of his own making.

At that time, Utopia had coins in circulation, but the king introduced a strange plan to replace them with paper currency. The plan involved people surrendering their coins to the government in exchange for notes.

This decision plunged the country into chaos. Those closest to the king—wealthy elites—easily exchanged their coins for paper money, but it was the common people who suffered. There were rules in place that allowed only a specific amount of coins to be exchanged for paper notes each day. As a result, the people were unable to exchange all their coins easily, which led to frustration and unrest. Across the country, riots broke out, and during these upheavals, Matthew’s father lost his life.

The revolution against the monarchy erupted, and Peter became the leader of the revolutionary army. He captured several small villages and brought them under his control. Matthew met Peter, and the two became close friends. To rally the revolutionaries, a performance of The Protagonist was held every night. Both Peter and Matthew enjoyed the play, watching it alongside the soldiers.

One night, after the play, Matthew sat deep in thought. Peter, unusually silent, had not responded as expected.

“Why this silence?” Matthew asked. “You’re usually so lively after the play. You always quote the hero’s speeches.”

"I’ve watched this play many times," Peter replied, his voice calm. "Every time, the character who fights for the common people, whose powerful speeches ring out, has always captivated me. But today, I saw it from a different perspective. Democracy—where the people choose their leader—how extraordinary a system! The one who conceived this must have been a great political thinker. James, you are a genius. If you want a state where everyone is equal, democracy is the only way forward. I understand now, and I owe you my gratitude."

"Your words are profoundly enlightening," Matthew responded.

I am trying to push James' thoughts further," Matthew said. "Tomorrow, the monarchy will fall. The revolutionary forces will seize control. The people will choose a leader. But we need a system that can protect them from the foolishness of such leaders."

"That's what elections are for."

"Yes, but that won't be enough. A leader who makes mistakes can manipulate the people or, due to weak opposition, win the election and continue in power."

"What are you suggesting?"

"Democracy requires foundational stability. Plans for major changes must be brought in gradually, after being discussed by all factions. For that, we need a Senate. The members of the Senate will be elected by the people. Senators will be chosen from all provinces of the country. They will propose laws, and the leader will have the power to either approve or reject them. Once a law is made, its implementation will fall under the leader's authority."

"This reduces the power of the nation's leader. It's a very innovative idea."

"A political system that ensures gradual changes, balance, and the unification of all factions—this is the foundation of stability. And stability is the key to a nation's prosperity."

That day's debate sparked a great deal of excitement for both friends. Several years later, the revolutionary forces seized control, and the monarchy was abolished. Elections were held, and Peter became the president. Under Matthew’s leadership, the country’s constitution was created. The decentralization of power, the Senate, and other such concepts were included in the new political system. Since then, many leaders have come and gone, but the political system Matthew shaped has provided stability for centuries. The concept of "steady, well-thought-out changes" from the constitution became its defining characteristic.

                                              ———******————

Voltaire looked at the two young men sitting before him with a sense of astonishment. As planned, Neitzsche and Spinoza had come to meet him, requesting an opportunity to demonstrate their abilities. Immediately, a sense of trust began to form in him towards them.

"Youth," he said, "are usually found in taverns, drunken and lost in the laps of women. Idealistic young men like you have become a rare sight in this country. When I see you, I am reminded of my son."

As soon as he finished speaking, Rousseau entered the room.

Voltaire shared his grand vision: he wished to design a large ship, capable of carrying a thousand people over thousands of miles for years, enduring mighty storms along the way. This ship, he said, must be built to withstand the harshest conditions.

Neitzsche and Spinoza, excited by the idea, promised that they would provide the ship’s design within a month.

Voltaire agreed to their proposal and, if the design was satisfactory, promised to set up a factory with a workforce of two hundred under their supervision.

Once Voltaire had left, Rousseau remained alone with the two young men.

They began sharing their experiences from the University of Yuda. Their conversation soon turned towards the realm of philosophy. Rousseau confessed that although he lacked knowledge in science, he had a deep understanding of the history of scientific thought. He argued that scientific thinking would never take root in a society like Uthopia, which progressed at a steady pace, nor would such a society be willing to accept the massive changes that science inevitably brings.

Neitzsche and Spinoza listened in awe as Rousseau spoke. He began recounting how, many centuries ago, a great scientific revolution had unfolded and shared the sorrowful fate of a thinker named Albert.

                                                    Albert

Long before the democratic revolution, a paper revolution had already taken root in the land of Uthopia. With the introduction of paper, books and written documents began to see widespread use. The mastermind behind this transformation was Albert, a brilliant scientist.

Albert, in his childhood, was considered a slow and ponderous child. He began speaking only at the age of five. He would sit for hours, gazing at an object in his hand, without moving from his place. This concerned his parents greatly. When he started school, he showed little enthusiasm for his studies, particularly in mathematics. Even at the age of ten, he would make mistakes in basic addition and subtraction. Ridiculed by his classmates, Albert became a loner. His teachers were frustrated with him, often punishing him harshly. However, the physical pain of the punishments never left any lasting scars on his mind.

He would often sit by the lakeside near his home, lost in the passing hours, watching the green foliage glisten under the sunlight, birds flitting across the sky, and fish swimming through the water. He marveled at the colorful butterflies fluttering about. Yet, these beautiful sights stirred no emotions within him. There was no separation between the scenes and himself, as if he had become one with them.

At the age of sixteen, Albert befriended Rebecca, who became a turning point in his life. She taught him mathematics, offering him the encouragement he needed. Through her guidance, Albert was transformed into a new person. Together, they solved many complex mathematical puzzles, often competing with each other. It wasn’t long before Albert surpassed Rebecca. He delved deep into the fundamental principles of mathematics, using them to shape geometric forms. However, as their intellectual paths diverged, Rebecca married and the two no longer met.

As the years passed, Albert found new companions among a group of like-minded young students. Together, they began to create small machines and conduct chemical research.

The machines they built captivated the public. People quickly realized how these devices simplified their daily lives. Seeing the need for more machines, Albert and his friends concluded that large-scale factories capable of mass production would be essential. They sought help from wealthy benefactors, but no one believed in their ideas.

One day, a man named Mason, one of the chief administrators of the government, came to meet Albert. He inquired whether Albert could assist with preserving important state documents in the best possible manner.

Albert and his friends deliberated, and after careful consideration, they decided to use a material they had recently tested — paper. They quickly manufactured paper and demonstrated to the king how it could be used for record-keeping.

However, the king was not fully satisfied. He insisted that writing must be done with ink, as paper would deteriorate quickly. He required documents that could withstand the test of time, with writings that would not fade away.

Albert and his companions debated this intensely, but they could not arrive at a clear solution. The deadline set by the king was fast approaching.

One night, unable to sleep due to his distress, Albert lay in bed contemplating. He was staying in a rented house, where young girls in the household were busy drawing pictures with small printing presses. The next morning, one of the girls showed Albert the pictures she had drawn on her hands. The drawings had not faded or deteriorated.

Albert’s mind raced with excitement. He called his friends together and shared his idea with them. Together, they quickly devised a printing machine. They began printing a few of the king's documents on paper.

The king was astonished when he saw the result. Impressed by their innovation, Albert was appointed to establish the state’s scientific department. This department managed hundreds of factories, each of which had its own research teams. Under Albert’s leadership, various innovative machines were developed by these research groups. Universities played a key role in training skilled personnel required to run the factories.

At that time, the medical field in Uthopia was in a deplorable state. Deaths at the age of forty were commonplace, and herbs were the only form of medicine available.

Albert, through his chemical research, discovered medicines that could fight off germs. This breakthrough was hugely successful. The society of UThopia saw a significant decrease in diseases, and the population became much healthier.

Albert became a figure of immense influence among the people. He was respected and praised, even on par with the king. However, this state of affairs did not last long. A deadly toxin-bearing germ attacked the nation, and the people began to die in large numbers. They believed that Albert, their savior, would save them.

Albert worked tirelessly, creating several medicines, but none could quell the wrath of the germ. Science, in the face of nature’s fury, could not provide a solution.

The people’s anger turned toward Albert. A mob of violent protestors attacked him. Albert narrowly escaped with his life, but the cries for his punishment grew louder.

The king imprisoned him. He ordered that Albert be publicly humiliated. When Albert was finally asked what his last wish was, he requested permission to address the people. The king granted him permission.

"It was not me who created this," Albert said. "It was the nation of Utopia. Today, I am not the one being punished. Science, and reasoned thought, are being slaughtered today. From this point forward, Utopia will become a stagnant society. Today, I am seen as an enemy by the people, but history will see me as a pioneer."

Albert died. His final words did not affect the people. Along with his death, the science of Utopia died too. The government halted funding for scientific discoveries.

However, some of the machines that Albert had created continued to exist long after his death. Paper and printing presses were still in use. From mere documents, they evolved into books—novels, textbooks, and various other forms.

The essence of Albert lived on in cellulose, the material derived from trees. His spirit, undying, continued to live through the very things he had created.

                                                                 ———*******——

"Rousseau, why are scientific thoughts limited in our country, and why do innovative ideas not emerge?"

Nietzsche's question was met with a smile from Rousseau.

"Did you ever speak against your parents when you were young?"

"No."

"In class, did you ever ask questions about the lessons?"

"I would be punished. One must sit quietly in class and only listen to what the teacher says."

"In a society where questions are not asked, how can new ideas emerge?"

"What advice do our parents give us? We must show respect to elders. We must prioritize what our parents say. It is emphasized that one should get a good education and secure a respectable position in the government. There is no encouragement for young people to take paths less traveled. This society itself is an obstacle to acting without worrying about future success or failure."

"I do not think so. Discipline prevents distractions that deviate from our goals."

"Individual discipline is what keeps a society stagnant. The disorder of thought is the very source of innovation. In our country, we have political freedom, but culturally, we are slaves. A man and woman must spend their lives together until the end. Divorce is not easily accessible here. Individual freedom is highly restricted. The constraints of society are far more emphasized than the rights of the individual. Yes, Nietzsche, we are three-quarters slaves."

"What is the historical background behind this?"

"The first president of the country, Mary, succeeded by promoting cultural conservatism and enacting laws. The key factor behind this was her personal life."

Rousseau began recounting the history of Mary.

                                                                   Mary

Mary’s father was a womanizer, and her mother was addicted to alcohol. Her father seldom stayed at home, and by evening, her mother would start drinking and be completely intoxicated by nightfall. Mary was the one who took care of all the household chores. She had two younger sisters.

Mary was clear in her belief that education was the only way for her and her sisters to escape from the misery of poverty. Every evening, she would teach her sisters, and once they were asleep, she would feed her mother and put her to bed. After ensuring that her mother was taken care of, Mary would spend some time reading her lessons and get only a little sleep. By dawn, she would complete all the cooking and take her sisters to school.

One day, her father brought a woman into the house. The strange noises coming from the bedroom frightened the children. Mary’s mother, in a fit of rage, killed both her husband and the woman while they were in the bedroom. She was imprisoned for the crime.

Afterward, Mary was left to raise her siblings alone. By the time she turned eighteen, more problems began to arise. The hardships and struggles of life became even more difficult.

One night, there was a loud banging on the door. Mary and her sisters hid in a secret room under the kitchen as the raiders searched the house.

The next day, Mary met the town's chief, Regan. She explained her situation and requested both a job and a place to stay. Regan was impressed by her honesty and hard work.

Despite the challenges, Mary never compromised on her sisters' education. She remained determined to bring them up to a good standard. Her room’s light would burn throughout the night. If anyone asked, she would say that it was to keep the children safe from the dark.

Years passed, and one day Mary met Regan at the town center. She told him that she had completed her law degree at the University of Yuta. Surprised, Regan insisted that she no longer need to do household work. The next day, Mary met him at his office. Initially, she began by handling smaller responsibilities efficiently and gradually became Regan’s right-hand person.

In that year’s presidential election, Regan announced his candidacy. His opponent, Kennedy, was thirty years younger than Regan and was quite charismatic, which garnered considerable support from women.

One day, while deep in thought, Regan shared his concerns with Mary.

“Every day, my defeat becomes more certain. It seems as if every woman in this country would give away their dignity for Kennedy's smile."

Mary replied, “I can help you gain the support of women voters. Every woman's life in this country is a story of tears, caused by alcoholism and female subjugation. You must assure the people that you will change this.”

Regan, somewhat hesitant, responded, “The government cannot interfere with what happens in the bedrooms of each household.”

Mary, with determination, countered, “It can. You must impose a ban on child marriage. It should be a crime for a man to have relations with another woman while he is still married. Divorce should be made more difficult. Men who abuse their wives should receive a ten-year prison sentence. Bars must close after 9 PM. Provide financial assistance for women’s higher education. Women who have completed their degrees should have priority in government employment. Promise to implement these policies when you come to power. I guarantee you that women’s votes will be entirely in your favor.”

Regan was impressed, “You are a political genius, Mary.”

“I am not. I never studied politics. My life has taught me more than any textbook could.”

Regan won the election and became president. However, after his victory, he showed little interest in implementing the policies he had promised for the welfare of women.

Due to differing views, Mary parted ways with Regan’s party. In the next election, she emerged victorious and became the first female president.

Despite facing many challenges, she enacted several laws for the welfare of women during her tenure. Through her authority, she transformed a disordered society into one with more structure and discipline.

Her reign greatly benefited women’s rights, but at the cost of individual freedom, as personal liberties were crushed under the weight of societal control.

                                        ———********——-

                                                               Part - 4

The Land of Lama

It had been two days since Ashoka had left his city. The path he traveled was mostly desolate, with little to no human presence. Occasionally, he would come across a village or two, where he would pause to rest. The land of Lama was vast in expanse, yet sparsely populated. Large cities were few and far between.

Ashoka rode slowly on his white steed, but his mind raced uncontrollably. His thoughts were entirely consumed by Nala and their son. Doubts gnawed at him—had he made the right decision, or could he have chosen differently?

In the land of Lama, there were no rigid laws—only recommendations. If Ashoka and Nala chose to live as a family, no one could forbid them. However, they would find themselves relegated to the fringes of society. If they wished to enroll their child in school, preference would be given to those from conventional family structures. Even pursuing a profession of choice would not be easy. Simple necessities like food could not be purchased at will; instead, they had to be requested days in advance, and even then, only inferior quality goods would be provided. It was an accepted norm that those who sacrificed personal desires for the greater good of society were granted priority.

Some couples chose to navigate these restrictions differently—living separately while still functioning as a family. Though unconventional, a few followed this path.

Ashoka’s mind drifted back to the early days when he had first met and grown close to Nala. Back then, her thoughts had been different. "What does it matter if we are no longer husband and wife after five years? We can still remain good friends," she had once said. How had she changed so much since then? Perhaps the birth of their son had altered her perspective. How could she possibly abandon a child who shared her very blood? Unable to part with their son, she had found herself unable to let go of Ashoka as well.

Evening had fallen. A light drizzle of snow began to descend. The sun had retreated somewhere deep within the crevices of the distant mountains. Darkness slowly started to engulf the sky.

Ashoka reached a small village. The villagers had all retired to their huts, fast asleep. The people of Lama were early to bed and early to rise.

Ashoka decided to spend the night at a wayside inn. After a simple meal, he lay down in a room and almost instantly drifted into slumber.

Another young man lay in the same room. Though his eyes were closed, he was not asleep. In a corner of the inn, two monks were engaged in quiet conversation. The young man listened intently to their words.

“What a strange thing human life is—suffering everywhere, at all times. The moments of true happiness in a man's life are but few. Master, why is this so?"

"What is the purpose of human life?"

"To be happy. To bring happiness to others."

"That is a mistaken goal. Instead, if a man sees his purpose as attaining purity of self, then he will begin to view all hardships as tools that refine and sharpen him. It is through suffering that one learns to look deep within, to discover the light hidden in the depths of his own soul."

"You have spoken of the purpose of an individual life. But what of mankind as a whole? What is the purpose of humanity?"

"You say that human life is suffering. But have you ever considered what a great gift it is for humanity to exist at all? At the dawn of the universe, there was nothing but scattered particles. With a mere ripple, these particles came together to form stars and planets. Had that single disturbance not occurred, there would be no Sun, no Earth, no you, no me. Among billions of stars, the birth of our Sun, the formation of Earth, the emergence of water and air, the rise of life, and the evolution of human beings with the capacity for thought—is that not an extraordinary miracle? A single force acting differently, and mankind would never have come to be.”

"You asked about the purpose of humanity. Among all living beings, mankind alone possesses the power of creation. To carry forward the creative force of the universe itself—that is the purpose of humanity. Creation can take many forms—it may be a tool, a thought, a philosophical truth, a poem, or a work of literature. The ultimate goal of mankind is creation. To destroy the unnecessary and to forge the new—this is humanity’s true purpose."

"You have bestowed boundless wisdom upon me, Master. If you could also reveal the purpose of my own life, I would be truly grateful."

"Your life may seem insignificant, yet it is not. Over there, lying as if in slumber, is one who will alter the destiny of this very land of Lama. He will rise to shield its people from great suffering. And that other one, lying in the corner—he will stand by his side, his closest companion. He will be his hands, his intellect, his heart, and his very soul. Together, these two shall craft a new history for this land."

Listening to this conversation about himself, Kanishka allowed a small smile to cross his lips before he drifted into sleep.

                                                            — ✶ ✶ ✶ —

Several thousand years ago, the land of Lama was divided into numerous tribal communities. Given its vast expanse, these tribes lived in isolation from one another, each with its own religious rites, deities, and cultural practices. Clashes between these groups were common.

It was only after the rise of Bodhi in Lama that a unifying force emerged. The teachings of a single faith, a single philosophy, and a shared culture transformed these fragmented tribes into a united nation. The people abandoned their former religious beliefs entirely.

Bodhi rejected the notion of divine worship. The universe, it taught, was boundless—without a creator, without an ultimate ruler. It moved endlessly through the vast expanse of time and space, with neither a beginning nor an end.

At the heart of Bodhi lay the belief that the purpose of human life was the purification of one’s soul. To achieve this, one had to cultivate pure thoughts, pure wisdom, and pure actions—learning through personal experiences and ultimately attaining enlightenment. The only path to such realization was through deep self-awareness and constant introspection. Non-violence, communal living, and renunciation of material possessions formed the very foundation of Bodhi philosophy.

Bodhi was founded by Bodhidasa, who established monasteries across the land to propagate its teachings. These monasteries were not merely centers of religious doctrine but also hubs for literature, science, and philosophy. The monastery in the city of Tripoli became the central institution that connected all others, and its senior master was regarded as the supreme guide of Lama Desa.

Fifty years ago, Naropa assumed the role of supreme guide. He was a strict adherent of the principles of the faith. One day, he mysteriously disappeared from the monastery. A year later, he returned, bringing with him a young boy—Kanishka. Naropa declared that Kanishka would one day lead Lama Desa.

As a child, Kanishka showed no signs of leadership. He had little interest in learning and was deeply fascinated by horses, spending hours riding them. He was more drawn to carpentry and architecture than to the doctrines of Bodhi.

As he grew older, he began to challenge many of its teachings. He argued with Naropa that non-violence could not be practiced in all situations. He believed that both individuals and nations were sometimes forced to resort to violence for self-defense.

To this, Naropa responded, "When an enemy comes to slay you, stand tall and tell him—strike me if you must. Awaken his conscience, for that is the true weapon against him."

Kanishka countered, "But ninety out of a hundred men have no conscience at all. Man has never fully renounced his primal instincts."

Kanishka also opposed the notion that families existed merely for the purpose of bearing children. "Renouncing relationships in pursuit of enlightenment is a delusion. It is only through relationships that a man sees the reflection of his own soul and understands himself," he argued.

Naropa and Kanishka often engaged in lengthy debates, but rather than creating animosity, these discussions strengthened their mutual respect and affection.

One day, a case was brought before Naropa—a member of the monastery was accused of assaulting a young girl. After careful deliberation, Naropa sentenced him to one year of intense physical labor and spiritual education as punishment.

This enraged Kanishka. He insisted that the man should receive the death penalty. But Naropa refused, stating that capital punishment had been abolished centuries ago.

Kanishka argued, "What justice is there for the girl and her family? What compensation do they receive for this grave injustice?"

Naropa replied, "This suffering is an opportunity for them. It will purify their souls."

Disgusted, Kanishka left the monastery. Naropa searched for him across the land and finally found him in a distant village, working as a builder. Naropa declared, "If you refuse to return, then I shall remain here with you."

Eventually, they reached a compromise. "As long as I live, the nation shall follow the path of dharma as I see it. After I am gone, you may make the changes you desire," Naropa told him.

In Naropa’s final years, their differences deepened. Kanishka foresaw an impending foreign invasion and insisted that the people must be trained for war. He wanted to build a great army to defend the nation. But Naropa firmly opposed this idea.

A few months ago, Naropa realized that his end was near. He wished to make a final pilgrimage to Mount Kanchan, where he desired to take his last breath. He asked Kanishka to accompany him, and Kanishka agreed.

After Naropa passed away on Mount Kanchan, Kanishka returned to Tripoli. This time, he resolved to travel across the entire nation to witness firsthand the condition of its people.

Now, with just a few days left before reaching Tripoli, a renewed sense of purpose and determination filled his heart.

Ashoka had been a brilliant student from a young age. His greatest passion lay in mathematics and science. He would spend hours gazing at the floating moon and twinkling stars in the sky. He was equally fascinated by the graceful flight of birds

He would gaze at insects without blinking, his mind brimming with questions. In the dreams of his slumber, he would often find answers to those very questions.

He pursued his education at a monastery near his village. However, none of his teachers could provide satisfactory answers to his inquiries. Instead, to conceal their own ignorance, they resorted to punishing those who dared to question.

As he delved deeper into the realm of science, he often felt as if he had reached an impasse. Upon further reflection, he realized that the flaw lay in the very foundation of certain scientific principles. To think from a new perspective, he needed a strong foundation in philosophy. It became clear to him that science and philosophy were intertwined, each incomplete without the other.

Through a friend, he learned that the monastery in Tripoli provided exceptional education in both science and philosophy. However, only those above the age of eighteen were permitted to study philosophy there. Determined, he made it his life’s ambition to one day travel to Tripoli and pursue his studies.

At the age of twenty, Nala entered his life. After a year of companionship, they decided to marry. Ashoka proposed that they move to Tripoli immediately after their wedding so he could continue his higher education there.

However, Nala faced certain familial obligations. She was responsible for caring for her aging parents. She encouraged Ashoka to go ahead and assured him that she would wait for his return. But Ashoka was unwilling to leave her behind.

The time came when he had to choose—his lifelong ambition or Nala. He chose Nala. Yet, deep within her, guilt gnawed at her conscience. She knew that, according to the laws of Lama Desam, once their child came of age, they would be forced to separate. When that time arrived, she insisted, Ashoka must go to Tripoli to fulfill his dream. He agreed.

And now, as his lifelong dream was about to come true, why was his heart devoid of joy?

                                          — ********** —

The next morning, Ashoka was preparing his horse for the journey when Kanishka approached him and introduced himself.

"Comrade, if your destination is Tripoli, we may as well travel together. Taking the direct route, we would reach in two days. However, I plan to take a detour through various villages and towns. Would that be acceptable to you?"

Ashoka agreed, and the two mounted their horses, setting off on their journey.

"My friend, I see sorrow on your face. May I know the reason?"

"Last week, my son turned five."

"I understand. The cruelty of separation. What can we do? Our society functions in such a wretched manner. But do not worry. This will soon change."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I am the one who will change it."

"And who exactly are you to bring about such change?"

Kanishka did not respond. Instead, he burst into a hearty laugh.

"Even as you laugh, I can sense a quiet sorrow on your face," Ashoka observed.

"Yes. I denied a dying man his final wish. My place in hell is assured."

"Why were you so heartless? You could have fulfilled his wish."

"Had I agreed, the entire nation would be knocking at the gates of hell."

"You speak in riddles. Yet, your humor amuses me. It lightens my heart.”

By evening, the two travelers arrived at a monastery, deciding to spend the night there. The head monk came to meet them, someone Kanishka already knew. After dinner, a discussion took place between the monks, disciples, and the guests.

"If the universe operates according to the laws of science, then what role does God play?"

"The laws themselves are God."

"Can human thought alter these laws?"

"If human thoughts are merely the result of scientific principles, then what is there to alter? The workings of this universe follow laws. And what is a human? Just a small collection of particles within this vast cosmos. Therefore, even his actions are governed by these same laws. His thoughts are shaped by external stimuli, neural patterns, and genetic inheritance. All of these function according to scientific principles."

"If human actions and thoughts are bound by external laws, then does life continue after death? Does everything—his bodily functions and thoughts—end with death?"

"Yes. Death is the end."

"Then does the soul not continue beyond death?"

"What is the soul? Is it merely his thoughts? Or is it an intangible force beyond the body?"

"It must be an intangible force. It must continue after death, taking a new form in another life."

"Those are mere superstitions. Death is the final end. There is no continuation."

Ashoka and Kanishka listened intently to the debate. After the discussion, they had their meal and retired for the night.

Outside, the full moon shone brightly. As Ashoka gazed at it, he saw the faces of Nala and Vishva in its glow. His eyes welled up with tears. A little later, he drifted into sleep.

Kanishka pondered over the conversation from the evening. His mind explored many angles, reflecting deeply on the discussion. After some time, he too drifted into sleep.

The moon slowly got caught between the clouds, darkening the sky.

——-*********———

The next morning, their journey continued.

"For the first time, I saw a smile on your face."

"It’s because you were with me."

"Has the sorrow of separation lessened?"

"How can it lessen? It will always remain. But beyond this, there has been a realization that life holds many more challenges ahead. My mind is preparing for them."

"That’s good. I am not married, so it is hard for me to understand."

"In our country, when a child is born, separation is something that ninety-seven out of a hundred people easily accept. I don’t understand how it works."

"Our country is like a lifeless corpse. How could the people be any different?"

"Our religion says we must let go of desires and attachments in life. But I have this question in me: Is this right?"

"Desire and attachment are the driving forces behind action. From desire comes the search for something. Change and innovation in society—all of it stems from desire. One who seeks innovation never acts with the society’s well-being in mind. A person is compelled to take extraordinary actions to fulfill his own search."

"Excessive desire only leads a person to a pit of destruction.”

"Desire, attachment, and greed—the three states are never in balance. The imbalance between these three states creates action in humans. Action is born from this. The balance of these three states changes from moment to moment. Sometimes, detachment prevails; sometimes, greed; sometimes, just desire. The mind flutters like a butterfly in the sky. Only one who fully understands himself can decide, in a given moment, which of these three states should be elevated. That person is a karmayogi."

"Can the truth of this universe be found within these three states?"

"The three elements of nature—air, fire, water. The three acts of God—creation, preservation, destruction. The three states of the mind—excessive awareness, lack of awareness, peace. The three states of the external world—action, inaction, excessive action. Yes, the truth of the universe resides in these three states."

"None of this is mentioned in our religions."

"That is why our country is in decay. Last evening, when we had dinner, a man sat on a small rock facing us. He gazed at the sky. When I came outside in the middle of the night, he was still sitting on that same rock, in the same position. This is our country. This is our people. Lifeless, purposeless bodies."

"But our people are content in their own minds."

"The search for contentment is what makes life meaningful. That search should never stop until death. When the mind reaches contentment, the search halts, and life loses its flavor. Life should fly from one search to another without resting."

"What you say is all very new. Who did you learn this from? Who is your teacher?"

"Do not follow anyone. Their lessons do not apply to you. Observe this world keenly. Pay attention to yourself, to the stirrings deep within your mind. That will give you boundless wisdom."

"My mind is becoming clearer. I consider you my close companion. I feel you were born to perform great deeds. Will you accept me as your companion on your journey?"

"Thus, it has been ordained."

The evening had arrived. In the distance, atop a mountain, a monastery was visible. Lamps had been lit along the walls outside, resembling a small cluster of stars twinkling on the mountain.

"We have arrived at Tripoli city!"

Kanishka's enthusiasm was contagious, and Ashoka caught it as well. The birds, too, seemed to catch the spirit and increased their speed as they flew.

The city of Tripoli was ready to welcome the two of them as they made their way through the mountain path.

——-************———

At the Tripoli city's monastery, Kanishka introduced Ashoka. They learned of Naropa’s passing, and it was decided that for the next two weeks, they would observe a period of mourning. It was also determined that on the full moon day, Kanishka would assume the position of the chief guide.

During the two weeks, they planned to celebrate with daily dances, music, and theatrical performances, as proposed by Kanishka.

In the Bodhi month, there would be no worship of the gods, but nature would be honored instead. Every day would begin with a nature worship ritual. Dance performances continued throughout the day, where dancers wore masks resembling various animals and danced wildly. The rhythm of the cymbals and the flute-like instrument made from buffalo horns took the dance to its peak.

In the evening, the monastery was illuminated with lamps. After the evening meal, plays were performed. The lives of the chief guides of the Bodhi faith were enacted on stage.

Ashoka watched the plays eagerly, losing himself in a new world. He felt as though he was living their lives alongside them.

The first play depicted the life of Bodhivarman.

The Play of Bodhivarman

In the northern regions of the land of Lamas, there were vast grazing lands. Two indigenous tribes, the Sangri and the Nachan, had lived there for generations. These two tribes often found themselves in conflict.

The leader of the Nachan tribe was Premavarman. As he grew older, his son Kundivarman succeeded him as the leader. Premavarman had a grandson named Bodhivarman, who was a young boy of eight years. Bodhivarman spent most of his time with his grandfather, learning the ways of the world from him. The elder shared all of his worldly knowledge with his grandson. Together, they would travel to various regions on horseback, where the elder would recount the ancient history of the lands they visited.

One day, as they wandered through the snow-capped mountains, the elder grew very tired. They rested beneath a rock, and Premavarman took a sword from his belt.

"Bodhivarman," he said, "you are no longer a child. The time has come for you to receive this sword. For centuries, this sword has belonged to the greatest warriors of our people. I have no doubt that you will grow into a mighty warrior yourself. Therefore, I now give it to you."

But using the sword requires more than just courage. It requires wisdom. If you hesitate for a moment while wielding the sword, your head will be lost. If you act impulsively, the head of an innocent will roll. Always remember that one moment—never forget it. In that one moment, may you be granted the wisdom to make the right decision, and pray to the divine for the strength to carry it out."

"I am nearing the end of my journey in this world. When you were born, the elders said that you would accomplish great things. Now, it is time for you to fulfill that prophecy."

As Bodhivarman grew, he became the leader of the Nachan tribe. He married, and a son was born to him.

Meanwhile, the Sangri tribe's harassment at the borders had become unbearable. They were stealing cattle and kidnapping women, creating chaos and havoc in the lands.

Bodhivarman traveled to the border regions and met with the people there. They spoke of the Sangri tribe’s brutal acts, describing how they would abduct young women, subject them to terrible abuses, and then cast them aside.

One day, Bodhivarman visited the home of a woman who had been affected by these atrocities. He found her in such a state of distress, crippled by pain, that he was filled with rage.

He gathered five of his best warriors and headed to the city where the Sangri tribe’s leader resided. They entered the palace and slaughtered the leader, his wife, and his servants, leaving no one alive.

In a blind fury, Bodhivarman killed everyone in sight, as though consumed by wrath. Just as he was about to strike again, a five-year-old child, holding a small sword, stepped forward with an unwavering stance. This child was the Sangri leader’s son.

Bodhivarman hesitated for a moment. The child’s eyes betrayed no fear. For a fleeting moment, he thought about sparing him. But in the grip of his rage, he struck down the child without mercy.

That night, Bodhivarman and his warriors returned to their city in triumph. But as he lay in sleep, the face of the fearless child haunted his dreams, and he suddenly woke up with a jolt, disturbed by the vision.

Upon returning to his city, Bodhivarman was struck with a terrible shock. His son had fallen gravely ill and was on the brink of death. Bodhivarman sat by his son's side, closing his eyes and praying fervently to the divine. In the midst of his prayers, the face of the young Sangri child appeared before him.

Bodhivarman, seeing the child’s face in his mind’s eye, imagined himself kneeling at the child’s feet, begging for forgiveness.

“I was wrong. Do not seek vengeance on my son,” he wept in remorse.

His son died, and after the loss, Bodhivarman left his city. He traveled far and wide, wandering through the snow-covered mountains.

When he reached Mount Kanchan, he felt a profound transformation within himself. Sitting on a snow-covered rock, he closed his eyes in deep meditation. Suddenly, he felt a brilliant light shining within his heart. In that moment, he realized he had found the answers to the fundamental questions of human existence.

Bodhivarman traveled across the land, preaching to people about the importance of not causing harm to any living being. However, most of the people did not heed his words.

In one village, a deadly disease was spreading, and many people were dying in large numbers. Bodhivarman, when he touched an afflicted person, witnessed a miraculous recovery — the person was cured of the illness.

The villagers, witnessing this miracle, placed their trust in Bodhivarman's compassion. Within a short time, the entire village recovered from the disease. Bodhivarman took this opportunity to teach them his philosophy of non-violence (Ahimsa). The villagers accepted his teachings, and with that, they embraced a life of compassion and peace.

Bodhivarman continued his travels across the land of Lhamaland, relieving the people of their sufferings and spreading the message of non-violence. In return, the people accepted the path of Ahimsa and embraced the teachings of compassion.

He founded a new religion, called 'Bodhi,' which centered on the principles of non-violence, renunciation of desires, and compassion toward all living beings. Many followers joined Bodhivarman, and through them, the teachings of Bodhi spread throughout the land. The people, who had once been divided into various communities, were united into one race, one nation under the new faith.

Thus, the story of the founding of the land of Lhamaland and the Bodhi faith began.

Siddharthan Play

In the city of Tripoli, there were two friends — Siddharthan and Vikramasinghan. Vikramasinghan had a son who was only four years old. Due to his poverty, Vikramasinghan could not send his son to the monastery for education. Instead, the boy worked for a merchant.

One day, the boy did not return home at night. He was found dead in an alley of the merchant's street. Upon investigation, it was discovered that he had been beaten to death for making a mistake at work.

When the case was brought to trial, there was not enough evidence to convict the merchant, and he was released.

Vikramasinghan was devastated. He lamented that justice had not been served. He decided to kill the merchant and waited for the right opportunity. He followed the merchant. One day, the merchant went alone to a nearby mountain. There, he stood still, admiring the beauty of nature. This seemed like the perfect moment. If he pushed him, the merchant would fall into a deep ravine and die. Vikramasinghan approached him, but when he was near, he hesitated. Unable to summon the resolve to kill him, he turned back.

Later, disturbed by his emotions, he left his home and disappeared. Siddharthan searched for him in many places and finally found him at the foot of a mountain. He pleaded with him to return home.

"I have never wished harm upon anyone. I have never spoken harshly to anyone. I have always tried to help others as much as I could. My son—he was pure, like a celestial being. His death—what justice is there in that? And the merchant lives on, without any remorse. Our faith, the teachings of Bodhi, say that goodness begets goodness, and evil begets evil. Why then, should I suffer such injustice? Why must a good person endure endless suffering? How is this fair?"

"Our life does not end in one birth. The merits and sins of our past lives determine the course of this life."

"This is unacceptable to me. The consequences of good and bad deeds in one life should be resolved in that same life. Delayed justice is no justice at all. I have no memory of my past lives. I cannot feel that I am the continuation of many lifetimes. Therefore, I cannot accept that I must experience the consequences of my past deeds in this life. The concept of reincarnation seems to me to be a construct created by spiritualists to cover up the inadequacy of their doctrines."

"I do not have answers to your questions. Let us go to the monastery and meet Bodhivarman. I believe we will find clarity there."

Vikramasinghan asked his questions to Bodhivarman.

"Is there such a being as God?"

"I do not know."

"Do reincarnations exist?"

"I do not know."

"How did this world come into existence?"

"I do not know."

"Then, what guidance can you provide? Your religion cannot even help wash away my burden."

Vikramasinghan left the monastery, but Siddharthan stayed behind.

The questions posed by Vikramasinghan deeply unsettled Bodhivarman. He began avoiding those who came to meet him and spent most of his time in deep contemplation.

One day, Siddharthan went to his room.

"Master, I feel that I have found answers to my friend's questions. I wish to share my thoughts.

What is the purpose of human life? Everyone believes it is to live happily without suffering. You say the same. But that is wrong."

Bodhivarman looked at Siddharthan in surprise.

"The purpose of life is to attain a pure state of mind, to engage in pure actions. To achieve this state, what greater aid is there than suffering? My friend reached the state of purity the moment he refrained from taking revenge on the man who killed his son. But he did not realize it. I will explain this to him. Please grant me your permission, Master."

Bodhivarman blessed Siddharthan and sent him on his way. He met with Vikramasinghan and debated with him. His mind found peace.

The fundamental principle of the Bodhi faith is the pursuit of pure thoughts, pure actions, and a pure soul. This, they both believed, was the true purpose of human life. Bodhivarman encouraged both friends to spread this message throughout the land.

Heeding his request, both friends spread the noble teachings of the Bodhi faith, securing an immortal place in the history of the land of Lamas.

                ———************———

                     MITHOBA Play

Meruva, a small town in the land of Lamas, was home to a merchant named Deenapanthu. He was the owner of vast grazing lands and a key figure in the region's commerce.

His son’s name was Mithoba. On the fourteenth day of his life, when the town received Bodhivarman’s visit, he stayed for a month, offering teachings to the people. During his stay, Mithoba served him closely, and he became very close to Bodhivarman.

When Bodhivarman was about to leave, he blessed the boy.

"Mithoba, after a few more years, you will come to me. You will attain a highly elevated spiritual state."

After that, Mithoba went to the monastery to learn spiritual teachings. His father urged him to assist with business, but Mithoba’s heart was set on something else.

One time, a severe famine struck the land of Lamas. People suffered from hunger. Deenapanthu had sacks of grain stored, but they remained unused for months, only going bad. Mithoba urged his father to give the grains to the poor.

"My son, I cannot give the grains to them. The reason is, these people will blame the government for their poverty. They will blame the weather. They will blame landowners like me. But they will never accept that they themselves are to blame. If we help now, they will expect more help. They will not make any effort to change their circumstances. They would rather eat the grain than let the rats feast on it."

Mithoba disagreed with his father. Without his father's knowledge, he gave away the sacks of grain to the poor. When his father found out, he became furious and shouted, "You are no longer my son!"

Mithoba left home. The people, believing that he would show them a better way, placed their hopes in him. After much contemplation, Mithoba came up with a plan. He explained it to the people.

"This land is vast, and there is no wealth that doesn't exist within it. Many places have uninhabited lands. We shall all leave this town and join with the villagers of other towns. We will continue traveling and find new lands."

"But you must all obey what I say. We must accept communal living. No one shall have any claim over any material possession. Nothing shall be sold. We will not use coins. We will share everything amongst ourselves."

"If you agree to this, I will lead you."

The people accepted Mithoba's proposal. In groups, they left their homes and migrated. This angered the city's wealthy merchants. With fewer workers available to them, they became enraged.

They sent Deenapanthu along with his son to negotiate with Mithoba. Deenapanthu started by speaking angrily. Later, he pleaded, but Mithoba refused to yield to any of his requests.

Mithoba, along with his followers, reached a new land by the seashore. There, the people came together and established a new village. They cultivated crops and harvested fish from the sea for food. However, there were some issues in maintaining the communal lifestyle. Small conflicts began to arise.

One day, three fishermen brought in a large shark they had caught. They argued among themselves, saying that only the three of them should share it. Mithoba insisted that the fish should be shared equally among all the people. The fishermen refused to accept this.

Mithoba declared that if his advice was not accepted, he would fast unto death. He remained on a fast for two days, but the fishermen remained unyielding.

Suddenly, the sea became turbulent, and the entire village was on the brink of being flooded. However, the water did not rise around the hut where Mithoba lived. The people were amazed by this miracle. They believed that nature was angry with them for causing sorrow to Mithoba and thus sought forgiveness for their actions. After Mithoba broke his fast, the storm subsided.

After many challenges, the people accepted communal living and the renouncement of possessions.

One day, the people received a visit from Bodhivarman. He was greatly impressed by their way of life. He took Mithoba with him to the city of Tripoli. With Mithoba's help, he spread the teachings of communal living and the renouncement of possessions across the land.

At the time of his death, Bodhivarman declared that Mithoba would lead the people after him.

Thus, Mithoba became the second guide of the Bodhi faith.

                                                       Gauthaman Play

Gauthaman was a simple farmer from the village of Pomi. He had a five-year-old daughter named Uthra. One day, the monastery in the village caught fire. Gauthaman, along with the other villagers, rushed to extinguish the flames.

Uthra and five other children got trapped in the fire. Their fathers managed to save their children, but Uthra was left behind. Gauthaman saved his daughter from the fire.

There was one more child trapped in the flames. The parents of that child were not around. No one else made an effort to rescue the child. Gauthaman, determined to save the child, rushed into the fire. His wife, crying and pleading, tried to stop him from going.

Gauthaman was consumed by guilt. Each person had tried to save their own child, but that one orphaned child had perished. Why was this so? Why does the human mind think of its own child, its own family? He could not find answers to these questions and was overwhelmed by mental turmoil. Sleep eluded him at night, and during the day, he wandered aimlessly, unable to work.

He came to the realization that family makes a person narrow-minded. Just as humans should avoid turning possessions into ownership, they must also refrain from owning other human beings. It was then that true compassion for all beings would arise in the mind.

He traveled to Tripoli and met Mithuba there. Gauthaman expressed his thoughts about rejecting the current family structure in Bodhi. He suggested that the concept of family should be discarded after a child has been raised for five years. After that, the child should live in a monastery with other children. The relationship between husband and wife should also be broken, and they should live as mere friends.

Mithuba strongly disagreed with this idea.

"In Bodhi, nothing is enforced by law. Everything happens according to the consent and will of the people. For the people to reject the idea of family, it is an impossible task."

"Then, does renunciation of possessions only apply to material things? Can a person consider another human being their possession in the name of love and affection?"

"Ask a mother who has carried a child for ten months and given birth. Is it so easy to renounce the bond of blood?"

"You can discuss this with the other members of the monastery. You can find out their opinion."

The members of the monastery vehemently opposed this idea. Later, they discussed it with the villagers. No one agreed with the proposal, except for one man and one woman.

These two people agreed to live together, have a child, and raise it for five years. After that, they would part ways. One year later, they would share their feelings and experiences.

The villagers all agreed to this idea.

After five years, a man and his wife sent their son to the monastery. One year later, they shared their experiences in front of the village.

The man spoke first.

"At first, it was very difficult. The separation from my son and wife was a heavy burden. But after that, something wonderful happened. The three of us became good friends. I was allowed to meet my wife and son once a week. We began to eagerly anticipate that day."

When we lived together, there were significant issues with understanding. Arguments frequently arose in the family. Mistakes were made in raising the child. We pampered him too much. I even hit my son in anger. But once he joined the monastery, there was a huge transformation in his character. He became a calm, peaceful, and disciplined child."

Then the woman spoke.

"When we lived together, there were differences of opinion. I would get angry if he spoke to other women. He would doubt me and fight with me. But after we separated, a friendship grew between us. I had relationships with other men, and he with other women. But we both accepted it naturally. The foundation of good understanding is good friendship. That is not possible in the old family system."

The opinions shared by the couple greatly astonished Mithuba. He discussed it with Gauthaman.

"I didn't expect this. It's hard to believe that a person can so easily abandon relationships."

"Those two remain in a relationship even after their separation, but it is an unexpected, non-binding relationship. A relationship with freedom. What humans desire more than love and affection is freedom."

After this, others also accepted the new family structure. Except for a few, everyone felt happy with the change.

Following this, Mithuba wanted to reach out to the monasteries in other villages to discuss the new family system with the people.

Gradually, the majority of the country’s population agreed to the new family structure willingly.

Before his passing, Mithuba announced that Gauthaman should take up the leadership and guide the people after him.

———-***********———

A few days after Gauthaman took responsibility as the guide, a new challenge arose. Monks from monasteries across the country came to him with questions that they couldn’t answer, which was beginning to affect the faith of the people in the teachings.

"Is there a God? If so, why is there so much suffering in the world? Are there multiple lives? How did this universe come into existence? Does the universe have a beginning and an end? People are bombarding us with questions, and our faith seems to be faltering."

Gauthaman went into deep thought. He wasn’t a highly educated person, so he discussed these questions with the other monks. Each one shared their own perspectives.

"Are these questions regarding God and the creation of the universe spiritual questions? Or are they scientific questions?"

"Even if these are scientific questions, there is no answer to them. I believe these questions can never be answered with certainty by the human mind."

"If science cannot answer these questions, can any other field provide an answer?"

"Philosophy. But philosophy does not provide absolute truths. It only presents various possibilities."

"Thus, there is no benefit in continuing to speak without conclusion; the people expect a definitive answer."

"What we must tell the people is whether it is the truth or simply an answer."

"We could provide them with an answer that satisfies them, and handle the situation."

"But if we do so, history will not forgive us."

This caused a significant divide among the religious monks. Gauthaman was torn between two conflicting ideas—one of giving the people a clear answer, or merely offering a superficial response to pacify them. On the next full moon, he had promised to deliver a speech to the people on this matter.

He invited the scholar Jivaneshan to engage in a debate.

The two of them debated intensely. In the end, Gauthaman declared his final decision.

"There is no God. The universe has no beginning or end. There is no creator. The universe operates according to the laws of science. The good and evil we perform are not done in expectation of any rewards. We do good to purify ourselves and this universe. This is what I shall tell the people. This answer will distinguish our faith from others."

"But how can you be so certain that this is the truth?"

"What answer do you expect me to give?"

"The answer that there is no response to these questions. We need not fear speaking the truth."

"Such a response will shake the trust people have in us."

"But isn't the purpose of faith to discover the truth?"

"That is the purpose of science. The purpose of faith is to provide people with trust and guide them along the right path."

Jivaneshan pleaded with Gauthaman. However, Gauthaman did not respond and quietly left the room.

On the day of the full moon, Gauthaman addressed the people.

"There is no God. There is no rebirth. The universe has no beginning or end. People must take responsibility for their own actions. The purpose of doing good is not to expect any reward. The aim of life is to purify ourselves."

That was the essence of his speech. The people were satisfied with these answers.

However, the next day, Jivaneshan was nowhere to be found in the monastery. It was said that with great frustration, he had left without telling anyone and rode off on horseback.

A gentle smile appeared on Gauthaman's face.

Part - 5
The Land of Magara

The harsh cold of the night enveloped Madurapuri. The moon hid behind clouds, only to emerge after a brief moment, playing a game of hide and seek in the sky. Madurapuri was a city known for its extreme temperatures—intense heat during the day and bone-chilling cold at night. That night, the sky was devoid of stars. Rain could fall at any moment.

The capital of the Magara kingdom, Madurapuri, was often called the "city that never sleeps." Revolutionary soldiers, wearing their traditional garb, were locked in combat with each other. The streets of the marketplace had food stalls open for business. The scent of roasted meat wafted through the air, drawing the soldiers toward these food stalls. Even though the soldiers lacked coins to pay for their meals, the shopkeepers were indifferent to it. This was a clear sign that Madurapuri had completely accepted the rule of the revolutionaries.

Though there were no customers in the commercial street shops, they remained open. Cartloads of goods were being loaded and unloaded. Supervisors were loudly reprimanding the workers.

Slightly off to the side, there were houses—tall buildings and humble huts stood side by side in the same street. A woman was singing a lullaby to her child, and her song seemed to lull the entire street to sleep.

In the heart of the city, at the Purisivas Temple, the nightly rituals were in progress. The sound of drums could be heard from the temple courtyard. A group of men and women danced to the rhythm of the music, and people gathered around, watching them in awe.

Killi Valavan, the new ruler of the Magara kingdom, wandered alone through the streets of Madurapuri. Whenever he entered the city, he felt a restless unease in his mind. He had held the city for ten days now, and not a single day had passed without him losing sleep. The question of how to rule such a vast kingdom gnawed at him incessantly.

Ten years ago, when he became the leader of the revolutionary army, Killi Valavan was an ardent idealist. He stood as a supporter of the lower classes, viewing the merchants and priests who thrived by exploiting the common people as his primary enemies. However, over time, he was compelled to dilute his ideals. He realized that it was more pragmatic to use his enemies as tools for his own plans, rather than trying to annihilate them. He understood that this was the suitable political approach.

Killi Valavan was born in the village of Marthandapuram. His parents were laborers. When he was three years old, his younger sister, Meenaloshini, was born. After their parents went to work, Killi Valavan took on the responsibility of looking after his sister. He would sit at the front porch of their house with his sister in his lap. Meenaloshini, a restless child, would only become calm when seated in her brother's lap.

Every year, the festival at the Mukilmala Purisivas Temple included the ritual of human sacrifice (Narabali). Each time, a young man from a village was selected to be sacrificed. Once every ten years, a woman would be chosen for the sacrifice. The king's family priest, the Kulaguru, would determine who would be sacrificed.

Marthandapuram was chosen for the sacrifice that year. This time, a woman was to be sacrificed. When the Kulaguru visited the village, the village leader recommended the names of five women, among whom Meenaloshini's name was included. Upon seeing Meenaloshini, the Kulaguru decided that she was the one deserving of the sacrifice.

When Meenaloshini's parents were informed of the decision, they were overjoyed. It was believed that those who were chosen for the Narabali, whether male or female, would attain a divine status in the afterlife, an honor among the Magara people.

Upon hearing the news that his sister would be sacrificed, Killi Valavan was devastated. He fled the village with his sister, hiding in the forest. However, they were discovered by soldiers and brought before the king. Meenaloshini was sacrificed at the Purisivas festival. Killi Valavan was imprisoned.

This event turned Killi Valavan against religious beliefs. He vowed to completely destroy the royal family and the priests who were responsible for his sister's death.

Escaping from prison, Killi Valavan wandered in the forest for many days. Eventually, he reached the city of Nagapuram, where a grand temple was under construction. Slaves and war prisoners were being used in the construction. Killi Valavan made contact with them and instigated a small revolution. Nagapuram came under Killi Valavan's control, and all the temples in the city were demolished.

The vast farmlands of the great landowners in the city were taken over by the workers. Slowly, more cities came under the control of the revolutionary group.

However, Killi Valavan realized that it was not enough to have only the soldiers to achieve his goal of overthrowing the royal family and establishing his rule. He needed wise advisors.

He made contact with three key individuals: Agnithevan, Neelakandan, and Meghnathan. With their advice, Killi Valavan successfully captured the capital city of Magara Land.

A true leader is not merely one who issues commands; a leader must also create balance amid conflicting forces. He must utilize all strategies—peace, punishment, and division—to maintain this balance. A king needs clarity about his goals and flexibility in the methods he uses to achieve them. In truth, it would be laughable to consider oneself merely a revolutionary. In his victories, Killi Valavan, along with his descendants, was the only one to remain unscathed. This was an anomaly in the previous revolutions.

Yet, to bring stability to the politics of Magara Land and remove the existing chaos, certain sacrifices were inevitable. The question that kept him awake was: What is the magical formula that could provide stability?

The answer to this question, he believed, could only be found with the help of his three advisors. Without wasting time, Killi Valavan mounted his horse and headed toward Ponnakaram. Ponnakaram had now become the key point that would determine the fate of Magara Land.

                                              ———*****——-

The scorching heat of the summer even lingered during the night, troubling the city of Ponnakaram. The city had drifted into sleep. Alcohol had been prohibited in the city, so there were no drunkards causing chaos at night, unlike in other cities. This was a land of wise men, a city filled with philosophers who drifted in the intoxication of knowledge.

In the center of the town stood a clock. Students were engaged in playful conversations and debates. In the room before the clock, there was a statue of the goddess of wisdom, Veena Devi. She was dressed in white attire and adorned with beautiful flowers. All the classrooms were closed.

In the middle of the clock tower, there was a spacious room. The roof of the room was open to the sky. Agnithevan gazed at the moon in the sky without blinking. Amudhan brought food for him, placed it near him, and stepped back.

After a while, Agnithevan, regaining his awareness, saw fruits on a plate and noticed Amudhan standing nearby.

"How long have I been like this?"

"For quite some time. You were gazing at the moon. Did it convey any message to you?"

"No. It was a beautiful dream. I was sitting on a celestial chariot, traveling toward the moon. I was the first human to set foot there. From there, I journeyed far into space, passing through many beautiful stars and planets. I came across a planet with some beings. They were not like us. I asked them who they were. They said they were the ones who created us. I asked why they created us. They replied, 'To create beings like you.' First, you create humans, then complex structures, then ideas, philosophies, and doctrines. Finally, you create universes like ours. We created you to continue the endless cycle of creation. Understand this,' the beings of that planet said. Before I could respond, the dream faded."

"Only you can dream in a waking state, Guru Natha."

"Dreams in the night are merely expressions of the mind's tension. They are the residue of the deep mind. Dreams in a waking state, however, create new possibilities."

"You mentioned creation in your dream. How does creation occur in nature?"

"Nature generally possesses a tendency toward decay and disorder. It is the attraction between objects and the heat generated by their interaction that brings order to the disorder in the universe. Creation happens through the movement within these forces of decay, attraction, and the action of friction in nature."

"Then, can everything be calculated by the laws of science?"

"No. If you throw a ball in a field, science can tell you at what speed it travels and how far it will go. But if there are multiple balls on a table and you strike one, science cannot precisely predict what impact it will have on the other balls on the table."

Suddenly, a noise from outside caught attention. Amudhan went to inquire and returned with the news.

"It seems there’s a message from Killi Vala. Shall we send the messenger inside?"

The messenger entered and delivered the news. Agnithevan's face lit up with joy. He immediately gave orders to Amudhan.

"Trivikraman has fallen. The capital city has been captured by the revolutionary forces. Immediately send for Meghnathan and Neelakandan to come here. Also, why hasn't Thara arrived with Manimaran in Ponnakaram? She is always unpredictable. Send people to find her."

Following Agnithevan’s orders, the clock tower seemed to awaken from its slumber, buzzing with activity.

                                              ——-*******——-As the sun set in the evening, Meghnathan sat in the garden of his house. Birds chirped from the tall trees in the garden, and a gentle breeze enveloped him, rustling the leaves of the shrubs. Meghnathan was awaiting someone.

After a short while, Kavithasan arrived. Kavithasan was a close friend of Meghnathan. Despite their sharp differences in literary views, their friendship had remained strong.

"Welcome, traditional poet. Your arrival makes this evening pleasant. What topic have you come to discuss today?"

"Revolutionary poet, you seem to have many female admirers. What's the secret behind it? Even my wife and daughters don’t read my writings."

"There’s no secret. Men’s thoughts tend to have a certain structure, while women’s thoughts naturally lean toward disorder. Have you ever heard two women talk? They take ten different stances on the same topic, but it doesn’t bother them in the least. That’s why there’s no surprise that women admire our epics."

"It is delightful to see the revolutionary poet moving towards tradition with his new epic. The disorder in your writing isn’t present in this epic."

"This epic does not follow a straight path."

"Yes, it moves backward in time. But that too is a kind of order. In the epics you’ve written before, you could begin from any point, but this one doesn’t allow for that."

"Yes, I agree. But there’s another novelty in it—the disorder in the emotions and character development. You seem to have overlooked that."

"Yes, this novelty takes the epic to another level. Has the seed of faith been planted in you? The influence of spirituality is strong in this epic."

"Yes, every epic is a reflection of the political and social context of its time. During the rule of Trivikraman, the influence of religious zealots was strong. To counter that, I depicted the darker side of spirituality. But now, the revolutionaries in power have adopted atheism as their ideology. To prevent the influence from intensifying, I chose to show the positive aspects of spirituality."

"Yes, a literary critic should always be on the side opposing conventional thinking."

A servant approached Meghnathan and whispered something to him.

"I thought so. It seems a message has come from Agnithevan. We must leave for Ponnakaram tomorrow. Prepare for a long journey."

After Kavithasan left, Meghnathan sat in silence for a while, lost in deep thought. After some time, he entered the house and began making preparations for the journey.

———*********———

In Muthunagar, the problem of thefts was increasing. Neelakandan was having a discussion with the town leaders.

"We need to increase the number of guards, especially for patrolling at night."

"It is not feasible to provide security to every street in this town."

"I would like to bring another issue to your attention, something the town leaders have been ignoring. The number of suicides is rising in the town. The cause is debt. Some merchants are lending money at high-interest rates, and when the borrowers cannot repay, they seize all their property."

After a brief period of contemplation, Neelakandan outlined his plan.

"We need to create a bank. People can deposit their excess coins and gold jewelry here. When they need it, they can withdraw it from the bank. The bank can also provide loans to people at a low-interest rate. This bank should be run by the government."

"Can't thieves break into this bank and steal from it?"

"Currently, 500 soldiers are guarding the town. We have requested for an additional 1,000 soldiers. Instead of having all these soldiers guard the entire town, wouldn’t it be easier for them to guard just one bank? This would effectively solve the problem of theft."

"Is it practically possible for the government to lend money to people? Wouldn’t the government incur a loss if the borrower fails to repay?"

"The government must show kindness to the borrower. You can't expect mercy from the moneylender, but the people can expect it from the government."

"How do we compensate for the loss that might arise from this?"

"When the economy of the town and the nation is prosperous, there will be no loss. However, during times of famine and war, losses may occur. No intelligent plan can avoid this," Neelakandan concluded.

After a brief discussion among the town leaders, they agreed.

A noise was heard outside the palace, prompting Neelakandan to go and investigate.

He received a call from Agnidevan. The next day, he was ready for the journey.

———-***********————

"We are gathered here to discuss the kind of political system that should be implemented in Makar Desam. Everyone is free to express their opinions," Agnidevan said.

Once he finished speaking, there was a brief moment of silence in the room. The room was fairly spacious. The section near the clock was reserved for important meetings. As it was evening, the lights were on. Paintings adorned the walls. In addition to Agnidevan, Neelakandan, Meghnathan, and Killivalavan were present.

Killivalavan: "The system of hereditary rule must end. I guarantee that after my time, no one with blood ties to me will take the position of leadership."

Neelakandan: "Then, how will the next leader be chosen after your time?"

Meghnathan: "We should establish a system where the people choose the leader."

Agnidevan: "The people are not well-informed. They're like a herd of sheep. They lack the ability to determine what is best for themselves."

Killivalavan: "The clock will decide who the leader should be. Only those who have been properly educated and trained are fit to rule. There is no better system than this clock. The leader must emerge from the many students who enter this system from a young age. These students must be taught science, arts, literature, economics, military strategy, and more. The teachers here should choose the most qualified candidate from among them."

The four of them discussed and reached an agreement.

Meghnathan: "Next, we need to make a decision regarding religious belief."

Killivalavan: "It should be banned. It has turned people into a mindless herd."

Meghnathan: "The people should have the right to choose the belief that suits them. We cannot impose our personal likes and dislikes on the people. Religious faith has been embedded in the blood of the people for thousands of years. If we attempt to erase it, another revolution will break out, and this time, it will be against your rule."

Killivalavan: "So be it. But human sacrifices should be banned."

Agnidevan: "How can we stop people from making sacrifices of their own free will?"

Killivalavan: "This is not a matter for the people to decide. If the council does not agree with my decision, I am not ready to accept the leadership."

Agnidevan: "You may act according to your wishes. However, Meghnathan should help gain the people's approval for this. Through literature, through epics, the people must be made to realize the barbarity of human sacrifices."

Meghnathan: "I agree. On my part, I have a few conditions. Killivalavan must agree that all temples and art forms established during the reign of the king will be preserved."

Killivalavan: "Agreed."

Neelakandan: "To establish a stable government, the economic strength of the people is crucial. Both the wealthy and the poor must live in harmony. To eliminate poverty, it can only be achieved with the help of the wealthy. I have devised plans for this. These must be read, and the council should provide their opinions."

After a brief discussion, the council agreed to Neelakandan's plan.

Killivalavan: "All these discussions have one common goal. That is, to ensure a stable government for the land of Magara. This land has faced numerous changes and revolutions, and it has encountered great destruction and loss of life. What we need is a state that will endure for thousands of years, well beyond our time."

Agnidevan: "As Neelakandan said, economics is the foundation for stability. If it is to last for thousands of years, science will be the solution. We must create powerful machines through science. A technological revolution is needed for this land."

Neelakandan: "How is this possible? Do you or anyone else associated with this clock possess the scientific knowledge needed for such an endeavor?"

Agnidevan: "No. I agree. What we know is only a tiny drop in a vast ocean. But our ancestors had visions of the methods that could lead us there. Tomorrow, we will meet at the Purisivas Temple at the top of the Chinni mountain. Two others will join us."

The Purisivas Temple on Chinni Mountain is very ancient. Few devotees come to this temple. Surrounding the temple were several caves, believed by the people to be inhabited by evil spirits and ghosts. Many who had ventured near the temple had died, leading the locals to believe in these supernatural forces.

Above the temple, there was a ruined cave. Four individuals were standing there, closely examining the walls. Numerous paintings had been drawn on the walls.

Agnidevan: "Look at each of these paintings. These have been drawn thousands of years ago and have still not faded, a marvel in itself. These are depictions of the history of our nation over the past hundred years. What is yet to unfold is also foretold in these paintings."

Agnidevan: "Look, in this painting, King Trivikraman's crown is depicted hanging on the wall. Yesterday, the four of us discussed this, and it is shown in this painting. After this, two warriors, one man and one woman, embark on a journey. They cross a vast desert and the sea, enduring various hardships, and finally arrive at this new land. This land is full of white snowy mountains. Here, the two we sent are searching for something. They discover a great wisdom. Look at this painting, we are building large machines in our land. These machines are making people's lives easier. People are living in wealth and prosperity."

At the end of the cave, there is a small set of maps. These are maps detailing the location of the treasure.

Agnidevan: "What do all these point to? The technological revolution I spoke of yesterday, the scientific explanations for it, are somewhere in this new land. To discover it, we must send a man and a woman."

Killivalavan: "You must have already chosen those two."

Agnidevan: "Yes. Come outside. I will show you who they are."

Outside, Manimaran and Thara were standing.

Killivalavan drew his sword and tried to strike Manimaran.

Killivalavan: "This man is a beast. He is the one I've been searching for all these years. Every year, he performs human sacrifice during the Purisivas festival. I will not let him live."

Agnidevan stopped Killivalavan.

Agnidevan: "Killivalavan, stop acting like a fool. Manimaran is a great warrior, a warrior who surpasses even you. Having him on your side would be a great advantage. Do not stir up old conflicts that are no longer relevant. These two are the ones chosen to make our future dreams come true."

Agnidevan turned to Manimaran.

Agnidevan: "Manimaran, Thara will explain everything to you. The great responsibility of changing the future of this land rests in your hands. Go forth and succeed."

Manimaran bowed to Agnidevan and climbed into the boat, with Thara following him. The four stood watching them until they disappeared from sight.

Agnidevan: "Do not create unnecessary confusion, Killivalavan. You will secure a significant place in history. He will be a great ally to you. He will become like a brother to you, your blood kin. Trust my judgment."

Agnidevan reassuringly clasped Killivalavan's hands.

As the evening sun slowly sank behind Chennai Mountain, the sky donned a multitude of colors before turning into the deep darkness of night. A light breeze blew, gently moving through the air.

The four of them descended from the mountain and began their journey towards the capital, climbing up the familiar hills and making their way toward the city.

———***********———

Utopia Country

The evening sun was sinking into the sea. The sky was without a cloud, clear and pristine, painted in shades of red. The darkening of the sky signaled the oncoming night. Blue waves lashed at the shore, and the sea eagle moved ahead slowly. The waves crashed against each other. A gentle sea breeze wrapped around the eagle’s body, causing it to shiver slightly.

On the shore, the humans seemed like ants from a distance. The Johan mother temple was becoming smaller in the horizon. Standing on the deck of his new ship, The Sea Eagle, Voltaire was in a state of indescribable emotion as he gazed at the sea. A feeling of bliss overwhelmed him, as if he were looking at the Earth from the top of the sky.

After hard work, the ship, The Sea Eagle, made its first voyage that day. Voltaire felt as if he had conquered this world. He felt as though he had defeated the divine forces. He felt as if he had conquered himself.

In another part of the deck, Rousseau, Spinoza, and Nietzsche were deeply engaged in an animated conversation. Voltaire walked over to them, embraced all three, and exclaimed, "Marvelous! Absolutely marvelous!"

The crew was working diligently around the ship, spinning in unison with their tasks. The supervisor was issuing orders from the upper deck. Malumi had some questions for Nietzsche, who responded by showing him some maps, explaining them with fervor. Spinoza also joined in the conversation.

Suddenly, a massive wave struck, and water flooded the upper deck of the ship. Voltaire ordered the ship to turn back towards the shore, signaling to Nietzsche to assist with navigation.

Everyone on the ship began to sing joyously. Nietzsche and Spinoza joined in, dancing with the others.

Meanwhile, Rousseau, who had been standing alone, was approached by Voltaire. The silence between them spoke volumes. Rousseau, gazing at the sea, had tears welling up in his eyes. Voltaire put his arm around his shoulders, and together they walked to the ship's dining area. There, they sat down, filling their cups with wine.

"Next week, at this time, we will be drifting somewhere on this sea," said Voltaire.

"Nietzsche and Spinoza have expressed a desire to join us on this journey."

"That’s wonderful. In a land that doesn't value talent, this is what happens. Like a bird that leaves its mother's nest, the youth will fly away and seek their own way."

"The Sea Eagle – how did you come up with this name?"

"The sea eagle has never sailed before. The name comes from trying to accomplish something in life that is impossible in ordinary terms."

The ship reached the shore, but what awaited them was shocking. Guards had occupied the shipyard. They forced everyone off the ship.

The leader of the guards approached Voltaire.

"This ship was built without permission from the government. From this moment, both this ship and the shipyard are under the authority of the government."

"I have obtained all the proper permits. I can show you the documents," Voltaire replied.

"I am just an arrow. Who fired it, I don't know. In any case, speak to Senator Hegel."

Voltaire quickly boarded a carriage and ordered the driver to head toward Hegel's residence.

"To the moneybags, Hegel's door is always open. Long live democracy."

The words of the head of the guards caused a burst of laughter among his fellow soldiers.

"Rules and regulations are not to be broken. They are not to be relaxed for the needs of any one individual, no matter how important they may be."

Hegel's measured words unsettled Voltaire.

"No rules have been violated. Proper permits have been granted," Voltaire responded.

"No. According to the regulations, only small boats are allowed. But your ship is twenty times larger. What is your plan with this ship?" Hegel asked.

"To faraway lands. To places where no Utopian has ever set foot," Voltaire said confidently.

"There’s a problem with that. If you go, others will follow. That is not in the interest of the country’s security. The strength of this nation lies in its isolation. Neighboring countries are no threat. Foreigners cannot easily cross the seas. What consequences would the swarm you bring have on this land? Who knows?"

"The arrival of others will be beneficial. Trade will prosper. New technologies will be learned. Cultural exchange will take place. New ideas will emerge."

"Everything you mention goes against the natural order of this country."

"You are a small-minded thinker, Hegel. Your thoughts are narrow. There is no more to discuss with you. I will handle this in another way."

Voltaire met Marx and outlined his plans.

"Wonderful. Voltaire, you are my brother. Where have you been all these days, my merchant?"

Marx's enthusiasm spread to Voltaire. He explained his plans in greater detail.

"If any obstacles come in your way, I will help you break through them. Go home with confidence."

The next day, Marx introduced an emergency ordinance. The law was designed to remove all obstacles to starting businesses, effectively clearing the way. As an emergency ordinance, it did not require the Senate's approval.

The Senate strongly opposed this law. A motion of no confidence was passed against Marx. In response, Marx swiftly dissolved the Senate and seized all power for himself.

Hegel, with the help of the military, arrested Marx. However, the people’s support was with Marx. Unrest spread throughout the country, and the situation became uncontrollable.

The two political rivals made an agreement. Permission was granted for the ship’s journey, but Marx, Voltaire, and his group were to leave the country on that same ship, never to return to Utopia.

Marx accepted this plan.

The "Sea Swan" began its voyage. On the upper deck of the ship stood Marx, Stella, Voltaire, Rousseau, Nietzsche, and Spinoza.

Hegel looked at the ship with disdain. He signaled to a nearby soldier.

An arrow pierced Marx’s chest. His lifeless body fell into the sea, and the water turned blood-red.

Rousseau attempted to leap into the sea, but Nietzsche stopped him. Stella’s scream shattered the calm of the ocean. Hegel, smiling, turned and left the shore.

The journey of the Sea Swan continued, indifferent to all that had happened.

Lama Land

Kanishka had been fully engaged in festival events and had not met Ashoka in recent days. One evening, he went to the back of the monastery.

There, Ashoka was preparing to leave, having tapped his horse to set off.

"Friend? What's your plan?"

"I'm glad that you remember me."

"Forgive me. I've been submerged in the festival preparations, but I haven’t forgotten you."

"You don't consider me a friend. During the journey, I was just a companion. That's all."

"What happened to you?"

"There should be no secrets between friends. I shared everything, including my family life, without hiding anything. But you didn’t say anything about yourself."

"If I had told you about my important responsibilities in this monastery, there would have been a distance between us. Our friendship would not have been the same. Forgive all my mistakes. Don’t go anywhere. I need your support. Everyone here is steeped in old customs, and when I face difficulty in making decisions, I need your advice. Come, friend, come inside."

Kanishka embraced Ashoka.

On the night of the full moon, Kanishka took office. He addressed the people.

"The great Naropa, who was our guide, father to some, and brother to others, has passed on to the heavenly realm. Filling his place will be difficult, but I will try as much as I can.

Our country faces new challenges. The solutions to these will also be new. Soon, I will tell you what changes our society must embrace. Today, I present my first plan."

"Our society’s peculiar family structure must be changed. The family should be considered for the development of the people. The primary benefit of our family structure is said to be freedom, and that is partly true. From the ages of 20 to 45, our bodies and minds are driven by various desires and dreams. The family becomes a hindrance to that.

However, as we approach old age, what we seek are children to take care of us, grandchildren to play with, and a wife to joyfully tell old stories—these are what give peace to someone nearing the end of life.

But our peculiar societal structure denies the elderly these things. I have traveled across the country. The plight of the elderly is indescribable. They die with no one to care for them when they fall ill, often as orphans, full of despair. This is a great injustice that our society inflicts on the elderly.

From today onwards, priority will be given to the old family structure that has existed for ages. No one should sacrifice their spouse or children anymore. Those who prefer the current family structure may continue, but they will receive no benefits."

"This should be discussed among the people of this monastery, and after consulting the citizens of the country, they must present their views in two months."

As Kanishka finished speaking, Ashoka grasped his hands. Everyone in the monastery felt a new dawn rising.

One night, Ashoka suddenly woke up. Kanishka was standing nearby.

"We must embark on another long journey. Let’s go."

Both of them mounted their horses and began their journey.

"Don’t look at me like that. This time, I won’t hide anything from you. We’ve received news that our country is at risk of a foreign invasion. I’ve learned that the Ming forces are stationed at the northern border. That’s where we are headed."

"This is impossible. Our country has not faced war for centuries."

"Yes, that is true. Our country is protected like a fortress by the long mountain ranges. It is not easy for foreign forces to cross these barriers. But nothing in this universe lasts forever. I’ve learned that the Ming army is very close to our northern border. I am going to see it for myself."

"We've never encountered war in our lives."

"Yes, the teachings of  Bodhi and its guides have brought us to this point. No one in our country has received any military training. We do not have an army. I can see our people’s extinction right before my eyes."

After several days of travel, they reached the northern border. They climbed a high mountain. From the peak of the mountain, they could see hundreds of thousands of soldiers. Paths were being carved through the mountain, leading into the heart of Lama  land.

Kanishka was deep in thought. After a while, he discussed his plan with Ashoka.

"I will go to the neighboring country of Mangal  land and meet with the king there. I will inform him that the king of Ming is not in his capital, and his troops are stationed far away at the borders of Lama  land. I will explain that this is the right moment to strike Ming. The army of Mangal  land will easily conquer the Ming capital. Once that is done, the king of Ming will come to free his capital. I will meet you again here after that."

In three weeks, the Ming army retreated from the border of Lama  land. Ashoka and Kanishka stood near a rock in the icy mountains, watching the retreat.

"Friend, we have delayed our destruction for a few months. Our strategy will soon be known to the king of Ming. He will come to attack us with great fury and a massive army. We must be ready before that."

"What is your plan?"

"We cannot raise an army of our own right now. But we can approach other nations with strong armies. We can ask for their help."

"And in return, they will expect something from us."

"Yes. What we can offer them is trade. The rare herbs, aromatic oils, and leather garments from Lama  land will be in high demand in other countries."

"But trade is against our principles."

"I will change that. We must discard useless ideologies like renunciation of wealth. We can no longer hide in the shadows. We must be ready to face this new world."

"We will head south immediately. We must approach the country of Peru and seek their help. A new journey begins."

"Good, my friend. The beginning of a revolution starts here, in this very moment. My heart is filled with excitement."

The friends walked a little further and mounted their horses.

The sky was engulfed by clouds. The sun hid behind them, casting many hues across the sky.

Gradually, darkness began to settle.

                                                                 Part - 6

The early morning breeze blew gently, bringing a sense of peace. The sun rose in the sky like a blossoming flower. The sound of birds chirping filled the air, and the trees swayed as they reveled in the music of the morning breeze. The dew droplets on the green leaves of the fields sparkled under the sun's rays. The farmers headed to their fields to work, while the sound of the bells tied around the necks of the oxen rang like a sweet melody.

As they passed the fields, Mani Maran and Thara walked along the two trails. Mani Maran's mind was deeply troubled. He wondered why he had agreed to this journey. Initially, his plan was to join the revolutionaries' ranks and, at the right moment, eliminate their leaders.

But now, he found himself becoming one of them, which baffled him. The reason for this change seemed to be the belief that the ruler could bring good governance to the people. But the doubt lingered in his mind—would the ruler forgive him for this? If their efforts succeeded, would the ruler accept him?

Was the genuine cause of his transformation his growing respect for the ruler? Or was it because he had been deceiving himself all along? Or perhaps the real reason was his attraction towards Thara?

Thara walked nearby, her gentle smile adding to Mani Maran’s confusion. A doubt crept into his mind, wondering if she could read all his thoughts.

"Will the ruler kill me?" Mani Maran asked.

Upon hearing his question, Thara chuckled softly.

"Even if the ruler doesn't kill you, I surely will. Once we return to Makar  land, I’ll cut off your head."

"Then, what benefit do I gain from this journey?"

"Your head must eventually hang at the gates of Madurapuri Fort with the executioner’s axe. This journey has only delayed that fate for a few months."

"If it is certain that I will die, what happens if it actually comes to that?"

"There is still a little faith in you. The ruler's heart may change. Agnithevar has great trust in you."

They both had their midday meal in a small shelter.

Killi Valavan examined the maps that Agnithevar had given him.

"You look at these maps every day. Do you see anything new?"

"In two more days of travel, we will reach the northern border of Makar  land. After that, we will encounter a vast desert known as Dwara. Once we cross this desert, we will reach a land called Tharukki. Beyond this country lies the land of Peru. Then, traveling further north, we will arrive at Lama  land. That is the final destination we must reach. There are secrets we seek there."

"How many more days of travel are ahead of us?"

Mani Maran placed a small pebble from his pocket on the map, measuring something carefully.

"Can you explain what you're doing?"

"The length of this pebble is equivalent to 200 miles, the distance we can cover in one day. Based on my calculations, the distance from where we are to Lama  land is about a month's journey."

"I feel a little scared."

"Listen, woman. Let me tell you something. Crossing the Dwara Desert will take us fifteen days. It's a desert with intense heat. Once we get past that, our success will be assured."

"I’ve heard about the Dwara Desert."

"If foreign invaders are to come to our land, crossing this desert is the only way. No one has ever succeeded in crossing it. That is why our country has been able to escape foreign invasions."

"That is exactly why we must conquer it."

The horses were extremely tired. Tara gently patted the face of her horse.

"We should not travel further today. Let’s rest by evening in a nearby inn. The horses need some rest."

"Yes. After two more days, we will need to sell these horses. They will not be of much use for desert travel. We’ll need camels."

They reached a small town. They walked through the bustling market streets, where each shop seemed crowded with customers.

"It seems that under Killi Valavan's rule, people are happy."

"The people seem content with their wealth. The prices of goods have also significantly reduced."

"My enemy's rule seems to be just and fair."

"Do not place your concerns only on your masters. Place them on the nation. If Killi Valavan's rule is beneficial for the nation, what hesitation is there in accepting him as the leader?"

"Your words are worth considering."

They spent the night at an inn.

Exhausted from the journey, Tara immediately fell asleep. Mani Maran stared at her for a brief moment, sighed deeply, and turned away, closing his eyes to sleep.

The next day, they continued their journey and approached the city of Vaniyampuram. The city was bustling with festivity. People were gathered in large numbers, celebrating the Puurisivas festival. It was the day when the idol of Puurisivas was paraded in a chariot. Men were pulling the chariot with great effort, and the eyes of the Puurisivas idol were intense. Fathers carried their children on their shoulders to show them the chariot. Vendors along the streets were making good profits, selling various kinds of food. People showered the idol with flowers. Priests standing in the chariot took garlands from the idol and threw them into the crowd.

"Who is in charge here?" Mani Maran asked, feeling puzzled.

"What can we do, Mani Maran? Sometimes, rulers must tolerate the ignorance of the people," replied Tara.

"Tara, it is not so easy to remove the divine from the hearts of the people," Mani Maran said thoughtfully.

Tara paused for a moment, deep in thought. Then she continued, "The human mind is never satisfied. That is why it constantly fears the future. Desire and fear—these two emotions cannot be easily abandoned by the human mind. As a result, faith in God remains intact. Religion teaches that through faith in God, one can eliminate desire and fear. But the strange contradiction is that the very foundation of religious belief is these two emotions. If a person were free from desire and fear, they would have no need for God. Puurisivas would not exist."

"You're merely grazing on the edge of a thought, Tara. Since the dawn of mankind, everything has changed. But one thing that has not changed is faith in God. Why? Because our bodies are created from the divine essence. Therefore, faith in God will remain as long as humanity exists, and the universe endures."

Tara thought for a while and responded, "To my logical mind, what you say seems like rambling."

"Go beyond the limits of logic. Listen to the voice of the spirit that resonates within you. You will feel the divine presence."

"When I enter the temple, what do you think I will experience?"

"I sense a tremendous power growing within me. I can feel the energy flowing through every atom of my body. I know that I am but a small drop of a vast, infinite force."

"I have been to the temple. At that time, negative thoughts like anger and lust surged within me. You said that humans are born from the blood of the Divine. People like me, however, have arisen from the blood of Satan."

"In that case, my reasons for killing you become stronger."

Tara smiled at Manimaran.

"During the Purisivas festival, how would you feel when the sacrifice is completed?"

"Just like when I cut the neck of a chicken for cooking — it’s the same feeling."

"Is that so? What Kilivalavan said about you being a beast is completely true."

"Let’s end our debate here."

Manimaran asked someone nearby something.

"In a little while, this crowd will head towards the river. Our journey will not be hindered."

"Good. I thought we would get caught up in this town today."

"The grace of Purisivas is upon you and Kilivalavan as well."

After a short while, the crowd in the streets thinned, and the two of them urged their horses on, riding quickly.

"Tara, what is the purpose of our journey?"

"Didn’t Agnithevar make it clear? The goal is to discover the scientific secrets hidden in the land of Lama and use them to enrich our country."

"I know that. But what is the true objective of this journey?"

"To enrich our nation and build a stable society."

"Do you truly believe in this?"

"Absolutely. If the economic condition of the people improves, a stable government will emerge."

"After Kilivalavan, who will be the king? His son?"

"No. The next king will be determined by the Ponnagaram Mutt. The one chosen will also be someone trained by the Clock."

"Why is that?"

"Those who are learned and experienced are the ones fit to rule the country. The dynastic succession in governance has only brought us weak rulers."

"Hmm. In that case, Ponnagaram Mutt becomes the central authority of our country. Have you thought about the consequences of this?"

"What are you trying to say?"

"Going forward, in the future, will the Ponnagaram  Mutt allow a weak ruler to rise to power, just so they can listen to its commands? Will it not want to maintain its influence?"

Tara remained silent.

"No, this could happen too. The one who will rule tomorrow might try to lock the Mutt’s power. They will destroy the Mutt and pave the way for their own dynastic rule. Can you guarantee this won’t happen?"

"You are confusing me."

"Good governance exists only as long as Kilivalavan is in power. After him, there will be great confusion. Blood will be spilled. The stability Agnithevar desires will remain just a dream."

"What solution do you suggest?"

"Power should be decentralized. Full power should not rest with the king or the Mutt, or with anyone else. Clear political systems are needed for the country. If this structure is established, stability will be maintained. It’s surprising that your learned ones haven't thought about this."

"Thara, in our country, women have a great deal of freedom, especially when it comes to matters of intimacy. It is quite common here for women to have relationships with multiple men, both before and after marriage."

"I understand what you expect," Thara replied.

Thara then playfully slapped Manimaran's chest. Manimaran showed no sign of agitation.

"My mother often used to ask me whether I was born to my father or to my grandfather, especially in front of my father. He would just laugh and move on. How many men have you been with until now?" she asked.

"I've been with many men since I was sixteen, for over ten years. I must have been with at least a hundred," he responded.

"Does this freedom in our society also reflect in our politics? Could this instability be contributing to our political turmoil?" she questioned.

"Since this morning, you've been thinking a lot. I can see what your problem is," he said.

Thara removed her clothes and tightly embraced Manimaran. Manimaran responded quickly, and soon both were lying down, gazing at the sky.

"Among those hundred men, who was the one who satisfied you the most?" he asked.

"My first love. He was unjustly killed. Since then, everyone else who has come into my life has been insignificant," she answered.

"Did I not satisfy you as well?" he asked.

Thara laughed softly, turned away, and lay down. She fell asleep shortly after. Manimaran, however, could not sleep that night.

The next day, they traveled in silence. Along the way, Thara stopped her horse, pointed with one finger, and ventured into the forest.

In a short while, the sound of many horses approaching was heard. Thara’s horse, frightened, ran into the forest to hide.

Forty warriors surrounded Manimaran. It was futile to fight them, so Manimaran remained silent. The warriors bound him and took him along with them.

In the distance, the grand temple of Purisivas was visible. A warrior stood waiting for them there. He was someone Manimaran knew—Chinnaiyan, the subordinate commander under Manimaran in the army of Trivikraman.

“Manimaran, did you not expect me here?”

“I thought you were dead.”

“I have several hundred warriors under my command. Our plan is to incite violence across the country to overthrow the current revolutionaries in power.”

“Your efforts are in vain.”

“Joining the ranks of revolutionaries like you is a misfortune. Trivikraman considered you like a son. You are betraying his soul. Come back to our side. Lead us. Under your leadership, we will seize power. You will be crowned as the king.”

“That is not possible. Killi Valavan’s rule functions better than Trivikraman's. The people are happy. For the welfare of the nation, I believe Killi Valavan’s reign should continue.”

“You traitor! We will offer you as a sacrifice in the Purisivas temple. What a strange thing, to see how times have changed.”

It was night. They took Manimaran to the temple. His hands were bound in front of the massive statue of Purisivas. His body was smeared with kumkum. The priest began chanting mantras.

A warrior slashed Manimaran’s body with a knife. Manimaran’s body trembled in pain. The warrior raised his knife to strike his head. Manimaran tightly shut his eyes.

In the next moment, a loud commotion was heard. The warrior who had come to strike Manimaran fell to the ground, an arrow lodged in his chest. Manimaran saw the lifeless bodies of several warriors. Thara stood nearby, holding a bow. She had cut the ropes that bound Manimaran. He grabbed a nearby sword and, with a swift motion, cut down the remaining warriors.

Thara and Manimaran mounted their horses and fled from the place.

“Manimaran, you haven’t said a word. You seem to be in shock.”

“This is the first time in my life that I have felt fear of death. I have offered many lives in the Purisivas festival. But today, when I was in that situation, fear took hold of me. My mind cried to the Lord, ‘I want this life, please save me.’ When faced with death, I became weak. I lacked the strength to offer my life to God. I am a coward. My devotion to the divine is incomplete.”

“If Purisivas, as a deity, truly exists, He must understand the value of your life. You have duties to fulfill in this land. It is not His will for you to lose your life in vain.”

Manimaran remained silent.

“Manimaran, you are not a coward. How many battles have you faced? Do not let your mind be clouded. Let’s focus on the tasks that lie ahead.”

Both urged their horses faster, charging like a storm.

Manimaran's body was weak. The pain in his mind had affected his body as well. After traveling a short distance, he fell from his horse and collapsed on the ground. Thara approached him and touched his forehead. His entire body was burning with fever.

Thara took him to a nearby village and to a healer. The healer said that he had a high fever but would survive if he made it through the night.

Manimaran was muttering incoherently. Thara observed him closely from beside him. By evening, his fever worsened. The doctor prepared some medicinal packs and gave them to him.

Thara went to the nearby temple. She gazed intently at the Purisivas statue. Then, suddenly, she fell to her knees in worship. From the statue, a lemon fell to the ground.

She picked it up and returned home. The doctor said there had been no change in Manimaran's condition.

Thara placed the lemon on his head. She stayed by his side, not sleeping throughout the night.

In the morning, Manimaran opened his eyes. The doctor said that his fever had reduced, and he would soon recover completely.

Manimaran sat up and spoke a few words to Thara. After having food, he fell into a deep sleep.

In two days, Manimaran had fully recovered. The two of them resumed their journey.

“Thara, tomorrow we will be nearing the Dwara Desert. My journey was halted for two days due to my condition.”

“I am so happy that you survived.”

“A truth dawned on me when I reached the peak of my fever. I never once prayed to Purisivas to save me. Worshipping God is futile. Everything works according to destiny. Even God cannot change that.”

“I feared you would die. For the first time, I prayed to God. Your survival is due to the grace of Purisivas.”

Manimaran looked at Thara in astonishment. Then, both of them fell into silence, their horses trotting on

                                                   ——-******——-

The sea rocked gently, singing its lullaby to the mother. Small waves embraced the ship, caressing it as they went. A soft breeze wrapped around the upper deck of the ship. Exotic birds with many vibrant colors fluttered around the ship's bow. The evening sun dipped into the sea, slowly sinking below the horizon.

Stella stood on the deck, her gaze fixed on the waves, not once looking away. Tears glistened in her eyes as they merged with the sea.

Her emotions, her thoughts, seemed to drift far beyond the moment. She didn't even notice Voltaire approach and stand beside her.

“We’ve been traveling from Utopia for a month now. You haven’t spoken to anyone. You haven’t eaten properly. You are staring at the sea with disdain. Please, speak about your sorrow to someone and cry if you must.”

“My father was struck by an arrow and fell into the sea. No one tried to save him. I, too, should have fallen from the ship along with him.”

“That would have been dangerous for all of us.”

“Beyond my father’s death, the question that haunts me is whether the reasons for his death were just. Is it wrong to think so?”

“Yes, completely wrong. His thoughts were right. They would have led the country to great prosperity.”

“Were his methods not wrong? He twisted democracy to push through his own plans.”

“The end result would have brought good.”

“Does the end justify the methods? I cannot accept that.”

“Your father believed that democracy was the curse of this country. He thought that the country could be kept in a state of great prosperity by abandoning it, and I too agree with that.”

“To rid the flaws of democracy, my father should have chosen the methods of democracy itself.”

"Hegel killed your father. Isn't that injustice?"

"Yes, I will take revenge on Hegel. His death is certain. But it will be through democracy."

"Everyone aboard this ship is determined to avenge Hegel. We need help for that. I believe we can find that help in the foreign lands we are heading to."

"Are we clear on where we are going?"

"We are heading northwest. I have heard there are vast lands and developed societies there."

"To get their help, we have nothing to offer in return."

"We have this ship. Even the most advanced societies are unable to create such modern ships. We can offer to build them many such ships in exchange."

"Our country is an isolated island with no connections to any other nations. That’s why we don’t have ships from other nations."

"Yes. Spinoza has been criticizing our country's scientific capabilities. It’s a small consolation that other countries are even less advanced."

"Wouldn't the presence of ships from other countries be a threat to the security of our nation?"

"It might be. But the benefits we would gain are far greater. There's no harm in paying this small price."

"The greatest benefit will be in trade."

"Yes. Not only will it bring ancient change, but it will also allow the exchange of knowledge and ideas."

"It will lead to a great revolution without weapons, without bloodshed."

"This is a soft revolution. Change has occurred without force."

The night fell, and the air grew cold. Voltaire shivered, and Stella took his shoulders, guiding him to their cabin.

Above, the moon and stars formed a parade, circling the sky. The sound of the wind clashing against the ship's bow echoed like a storm. There was little movement on the upper deck, as everyone was below, enjoying their evening meal.

In one corner of the upper deck, Spinoza and Nietzsche lay on their backs, contemplating the stars that filled the sky. The night sky was clear, and the stars appeared infinite.

"Spinoza, every night, you watch the sky from the upper deck. For several minutes, you lose yourself in it. What thoughts race through your mind?"

"Are there living beings on the moon, or some distant star? Do they exist like us, or are they more intelligent than us? I have no answers to these questions. But there is a certain joy in thinking about them."

"We have only just built this ship to cross the sea. Will future humans be able to reach the moon and stars? Isn’t that a fascinating question?"

"It will happen. The rapid advancement of humankind will soon leave Earth behind. A time will come when humans will leave Earth for other planets and leave their mark on many worlds."

"Could it be that the creator of us, of our world, is an extraterrestrial being? Are we worshipping him as God?"

"Perhaps. If so, he must be an extraordinary mathematician and scientific genius."

"Yes. Perhaps God created this world for his amusement, and when he lost interest, tossed it aside like a toy, and now our universe exists as that discarded plaything."

"Or perhaps our world was created for some grand research purpose. Once the research is complete, they might leave us behind, unnoticed."

"Are these merely scientific questions, or are they philosophical ones?"

"Philosophical questions that benefit science. The answers can only come from science."

"A job that humankind may never be able to find answers to."

"I haven't seen Rousseau for a few days."

"Yes. He’s been spending a lot of time with Stella. She’s the only comfort she has."

"Marx's death is something that can never be replaced for any of us. We have no leader to guide us. We are like a ship lost without a compass."

"Very soon, it seems that Stella will take on the leadership role, once she calms down."

"She would be a better leader than Marx. She has the patience he lacked, and the calmness that he never had."

"I spoke to Voltaire about this. He said that Stella would soon try to take up the leadership role."

"Tonight, if we drink good wine, it will be a pleasant experience. Come, join me."

Stella was sitting alone in her room. Rousseau entered and sat beside her. He sensed a slight shiver of emotion in Stella. Gently, he held her hands, and she leaned on his shoulders.

"Rousseau, have you ever loved anyone before?"

"Yes. There was a woman. I invited her on this journey, but she refused. We parted ways due to differences in opinions."

"Who do you love now?"

Rousseau gently kissed her lips, and they lay together for a long while in each other's embrace.

"Stella, I will always be by your side. Will you accept me?"

Stella removed her outer garment and pulled Rousseau's face to rest against her chest.

"Who was your first love?"

Stella whispered that name into his ear. Rousseau, hearing it, lifted her up with the gentleness of a musical instrument. Reaching their peak, they remained entwined in each other's embrace.

"My father’s only love in his lifetime was my mother. He never had any relationships with other women."

"In contrast, my father was a recluse in his early years. After marriage, he became a true companion to my mother. Even after her death, he had no connections with any other woman. He devoted all his strength to the service of the nation."

Stella wiped away the tears that had formed in her eyes.

"You still haven’t accepted his death. That’s natural. Only by channeling your strength into other responsibilities can you recover from your grief."

Stella remained silent.

"It is the wish of all of us that you take the leadership of our group."

"Your father could have been a leader. He was deserving of it."

"He has no interest in it. The leader of this group will need to take charge of the battle we will wage against Hegel tomorrow."

Rousseau’s words hung in the air, a blend of defiance and resignation. As he spoke, he seemed at once determined and weary, a man who had seen the costs of his ideals and was now facing the consequences.

"I'll accept the leadership. But I need a guarantee. We will return to Utopia, but we will not start a war. We will organize a movement against Hegel within the framework of democracy."

"Everyone is eager to see Hegel punished," came the response.

"Hegel’s death is inevitable. But it will be according to law," she asserted firmly.

“That’s impossible. He controls the full strength of the government.”

"We will think about how to make it possible later. Our group cannot act unjustly."

"Right now, the command of the leader is strong."

"I haven’t decided yet. Give me time until tomorrow."

"You will surely agree. You will be the greatest leader. It runs in your blood," he said, with a knowing smile.

A faint smile flickered across Stella’s face.

"It’s the first time you’ve smiled in a month."

Rousseau kissed her cheek and left the room.

When Rousseau returned to his quarters, Voltaire was waiting for him.

"I have memories of your mother. I wonder if I’ll ever see her again. The first victim of men’s worldly dreams is always the wife."

"We will definitely return to Utopia. Don’t worry."

"No, if I return to Utopia, death is certain. There’s no guarantee for your mother’s life either. This is an agreement I made with Hegel."

"Then what’s your future plan?"

"Travel to many countries. Drink fine wine. Die anonymously in a land that no one sees."

"I met Stella. I believe she will agree."

"You are the only one who can make her agree. Let me say this: Marry her. Marry her and make her future your own."

At that moment, Nietszhe and Spinoza entered the room.

"Given the current temperature conditions, Malumi says a huge storm is coming."

Rousseau was startled, but Voltaire responded calmly.

"Whoever brings bad news, bring the good news as well."

"The good news is, our ship can withstand the storm."

"You should have shared this news with me first as the captain of the ship."

Stella stood in the doorway, smiling.

"Nietszhe, there is something more troubling me than the storm. We’ve been sailing for a month. When will we reach land?"

"That is impossible to predict. Everyone who has embarked on this journey knows this. We are heading towards an uncertain future."

"There is nothing that cannot be predicted. This morning, I saw some strange birds on the upper deck. I can estimate that we will reach land in three days."

Spinoza nodded in agreement with Stella's words.

"I also saw some tuna fish. That means we are clearly approaching land."

"Once we land, we cannot assume that the people of the country will greet us with open arms. We must plan for this in the coming days."

Stella called the crew and instructed them to serve dinner. After the meal, they went up to the upper deck and conversed cheerfully.

In a short while, musical instruments began to play. Dancers leaped and twirled in the air. Stella and Rousseau joined in, holding hands and dancing along.

Voltaire sat alone with a wine cup in hand. The memories of his late wife, Mary, surged in. The moments when they first met, the events of their wedding day, the poignant memories of Rousseau's birth—images unfolded before his eyes.

Voltaire's heart lightened. The breeze began to blow softly.

Suddenly, the wind picked up. The wine cup placed on the table fell and rolled across the floor. Dark clouds enveloped the sky. The sea began to pour heavy rain. Lightning streaked across the sky with a sharp flash. Thunder cracked loudly in the air.

"The storm has started. Lower the sails!" Malumi shouted. The ship's crew scrambled in all directions. Spinoza and Nietszhe were handing out orders to the crew.

The waves turned into monstrous swells, and water began to flood the upper deck of the ship. The ship rocked dangerously. In an effort to keep the ship from sinking, Malumi issued more commands.

Voltaire tried to rise but was thrown off balance by the ship's movements. Rousseau caught him before he fell. The two of them huddled together on one side of the ship. Stella, wrapped tightly in her coat, sat on the opposite side of the ship.

A young boy, trying to retrieve fallen fruit, slipped and fell to the ground, landing in a heap.

Two days later, the storm subsided. The ship had escaped unharmed.

The morning sun, like a newlywed bride, rose with brilliance into the sky. The sea, once crimson, slowly shifted to a golden hue. The waves gently lapped against the ship. A long rainbow appeared, and birds soared in its path. Fish leapt and played near the ship.

Everyone aboard the ship gathered on the upper deck, their faces glowing with joy.

Suddenly, a boy stretched out his arm and shouted.

"Land! Land!" everyone yelled in unison.

Stella and Rousseau looked towards the land with excitement. Stella asked everyone’s opinion on whether they should head toward the shore. Only Rousseau voiced a contrary opinion.

"What if the people there pose a threat to us? We should continue our journey."

Spinoza disagreed with Rousseau’s thoughts.

"All our provisions were ruined by the storm. Everyone is exhausted. Taking a few days' rest on land would be the best option."

Stella ordered the ship to head towards the shore.

As the ship reached the coast, everyone walked a short distance and entered a grove. Palm, coconut, and banana trees were abundant. They ate the fruits and vegetables they found to fill their stomachs.

Afterward, they returned to the beach, where various species of crabs scuttled around. They hunted them, cooked them over a fire, and made a meal.

Voltaire approached Stella and handed her some fruits.

"There seems to be no sign of human settlement here."

"I saw smoke rising from a distance. We must be cautious."

Suddenly, a few strange figures surrounded them.

They were the indigenous people of the land, long-haired and rugged. Their gaze was as intense as fire. They wore no upper garments, only covering their lower bodies. In their hands, they extended spears threateningly.

The newcomers were captured and taken by them, their hands bound. After walking a short distance into the dense forest, they came upon huts.

As soon as the people in the huts saw Stella's group, they gathered with great interest. Everyone congregated near the hut where the leader resided.

The leader sat on a throne, eyeing Stella’s group with astonishment. He spoke to the man nearby about them.

Then, with a gesture, he inquired who they were.

In response, Stella gestured and spoke on behalf of her group.

"We are from the land of Utopia. We have been traveling by sea for a long time. We wish to rest here for a few days and then leave. We mean no harm."

The leader stared at Stella for a while, then consulted with his people. Stella showed him the gold coins she had with her. He took them and gazed at them with awe.

"This is our gift to the leader. We have many such items. We may give some as tokens of our goodwill."

Stella and her group were accommodated in separate huts. They were not permitted to venture beyond the huts. They were served delicious food.

Voltaire went to speak with the leader and returned afterward to share the conversation with Stella.

"The leader’s name is Akanto. He has become a good friend of mine. These people are very different. Their god is not a form; it is a pure spirit. They believe it exists in everything on this land. They live in harmony with the animals, trees, and shrubs of the forest. They never exploit nature beyond their needs. Even when they cut a tree, they perform a ritual before doing so. People of this kind live on many islands. Beyond these islands, a vast continent lies after a short sea voyage. This continent has great forests, mountains, polar regions, and deserts. Some areas have few people, mostly indigenous tribes. There are many unexplored lands in that continent. Akanto has invited me to visit them."

Rousseau, who had been listening eagerly to what his father was saying, raised a question.

"Do they suspect us?"

"No. But they are cautious. Beyond that small hill, there are others like us, fair-skinned. They arrived here only a few months ago. They are from Peru. They are armed and have been causing trouble for the indigenous people, committing many atrocities. They enslave them and force them into hard labor. For even the smallest mistake, they impose severe punishment. After they arrived, a plague spread, and many of the indigenous people died. They often come to this village and take some of them away as prisoners."

"Will these Peruvians leave us alone when they see us?"

"Yes. I’ve told the Peruvians that I will help them find a peaceful solution to this issue."

The next day, Voltaire and Stella set off towards the settlement of the Peruvians. They climbed the hill, descended on the other side, and soon came upon a settlement with people moving about.

Here, both fair-skinned people and indigenous tribesmen were present. The indigenous children and elders were working as slaves. The white masters held whips in their hands, using them to control the slaves as they worked.

Upon seeing the two newcomers, the people gathered around them in curiosity. Their leader inquired about Stella.

He introduced himself as Alexander. He explained that he had rebelled against the King of Peru, but when the rebellion failed, he was imprisoned. After escaping from prison, he embarked on a sea voyage and, surviving the ferocious storm, had arrived on this island. He was amazed to hear that Stella's group had managed to withstand the storm.

Then Voltaire put forth his request.

"The atrocities against the indigenous people must be stopped. All the slaves must be freed."

"Why do you care for these savages?"

"They are not savages. They are children of God, far nobler than us. We must learn from them how to live in harmony with nature."

"A few days ago, one of our men was captured by them. Do you know what your children of God did to him? They sliced him apart and ate him. Yes, these people eat human flesh."

"I don’t know. They don’t seem like that kind of people to me. Perhaps they turn into beasts out of anger. But I can stop all of this. Freeing the slaves is my only request."

"There are some conditions on my side to fulfill your request. Like the ship you created, we need ten ships. The help of the indigenous people will be required to build them. Not as slaves, but they will be paid for their labor. Many of our families are suffering in the prisons of Peru. To free them, we need warriors. I lack warriors. A thousand indigenous warriors must join us and travel to Peru to aid in the war there."

"I believe Akanto will agree to this."

"That will not be so easy. To build the ships, many trees must be cut down. These people will never agree to that."

"We will try."

Stella and Voltaire returned to the indigenous village.

Stella shared the details of the discussions with Akanto. He had debated with his people about the plan. There was strong opposition, particularly from a young man named Akira, who argued fiercely with Akanto.

"We are different. They are different. Their skin is different, their gods are different, their customs are different. They are lower beings with no compassion for nature. They kill animals for amusement, cut down trees, and destroy the land. How can we live harmoniously with them? How many trees must be cut to make the ten ships they requested? Why should we participate in their war? Not a single person of our kind would agree to leave this land."

Akira had strong support among the people.

Finally, Akanto gave his consent to Stella’s plan, but warned of severe punishment for those who opposed it.

Akira and his supporters threatened that Akanto would die soon.

That night, there were loud sounds of a violent struggle. Akanto came to Voltaire, saying that everyone’s life was in danger and they needed to escape immediately.

Stella’s group, Akanto, and some warriors fled.

They met with Alexander and told him what had happened. Stella laid out her plan.

"We have 100 warriors, you have 100. Our ship can carry up to 300 people. Together, we will sail to Peru and liberate your people."

"The guards in Peru’s prisons are very strong. We will need at least 5,000 warriors to succeed."

We can gather the warriors we need elsewhere. Can you spend the rest of your life on this island? Can you completely forget your loved ones? Our ship is your greatest opportunity. This will not be possible again. Use us."

Alexander discussed with his people and agreed. All the slaves were freed.

That night, there was a lively celebration with dancing and merrymaking.

Voltaire did not participate and sat in solitude. Rousseau came to speak with him.

"I have come to say goodbye. The time has come. What is about to unfold are great wars, and I am not fit to participate. I am a merchant, my skill is in talking and making agreements. I am about to embark on a long journey with Akanto. I am heading towards a new world, one that no one has discovered yet. That vast land near these islands is waiting for me."

Rousseau took his father’s hands.

"Tell my mother to forgive me. One day, return to our country and take care of her safely."

The next morning, the dawn broke. The ship, along with his new friends, set sail on its next journey.

Standing on a hill, Voltaire watched the ship sail away, his eyes never leaving it. Slowly, it disappeared from his view.

With a deep sigh, he set off in search of his friend, Akanto.

                                                 ——-*****——-

Chapter 7

The vast expanse of the Dhuara Desert stretched endlessly before them, its golden sands glistening under the relentless sun like molten gold. Dunes rose and fell in graceful undulations, followed by sweeping plains that formed an intricate tapestry across the arid landscape.

For two days, Manimaran and Tara had been traversing the desert. As first-time riders, navigating the camels proved arduous. The ascent of each dune felt deceptive—each step forward seemed to be met with an inevitable backward slide, testing their endurance.

Everywhere they looked, there was only sand—an unbroken, desolate wilderness. As evening descended, they stood in silence, watching the sun dip below the horizon, surrendering to the embrace of twilight.

When night fell, the sky transformed into a celestial canvas, stars scattered like diamonds upon an abyss of darkness. Lying on the sand, Manimaran and Tara lost themselves in the vast constellation above. A shooting star streaked across the heavens, momentarily setting the sky ablaze.

"Manimara," Tara murmured, her voice scarcely more than a whisper, "in this very moment, in this very place, I wish to rest my head upon your lap and never wake again."

Manimaran offered no reply. Words were meaningless in the face of such profound emotion. Another star flared across the sky.

Without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. Locked in a silent embrace, they remained entwined for what felt like eternity. The night grew colder, the chill biting like tiny needles, while the wind whipped through the dunes, scattering sand in restless waves. Yet they remained, undisturbed, lying upon the whispering sands.

Not once did sleep claim them that night. A deep and ineffable awakening stirred within them, far greater than mere physical exhaustion. Beyond them, the desert storm howled in the darkness, a symphony of the untamed.

At dawn, the sun rose, casting its golden light across the endless sands. In the unbroken blue sky, it ascended like a radiant orb, shifting the horizon’s hues from deep saffron to brilliant gold.

The camels, resting through the night, slowly rose to their feet, preparing for the journey ahead. Their deep, resonant calls shattered the lingering silence of the desert, heralding the start of a new day.

For five more days, their journey through the desert pressed on. Along the way, they encountered the remains of men, camels, and other creatures—grim reminders of those who had perished before them. Their guides, shaken by the desolation, declared that no one who had come this far had survived. Fearing for their own lives, they refused to go any further.

Now, Manimaran and Tara were alone, traversing the merciless expanse of the desert. Eventually, they arrived at a ruined city. Crumbling homes and shattered palaces lay in eerie silence, their skeletal remains whispering of a forgotten past. Human skulls and scattered bones littered the ground. Suddenly, the air trembled with the guttural roar of a vulture circling overhead. Instinctively, Tara grasped Manimaran’s hand.

Their provisions—water and food—had been entirely depleted. Five more days of desert lay ahead, and the scorching sun showed no mercy. They managed to endure two days without sustenance, but beyond that, their strength waned. Blisters covered their sun-scorched skin. With no energy left, they collapsed onto the burning sands, unable to take another step.

Manimaran, mustering the last of his strength, pointed towards four vultures circling above them. The creatures hovered, patiently awaiting their demise. Before they could descend, Tara, swift as lightning, drew her bow and released an arrow. In the blink of an eye, all four vultures fell dead.

They drank the blood of the fallen birds and roasted their flesh over a fire. Days and nights passed in this grim survival, their only nourishment coming from the vultures they hunted each day.

"Manimara," Tara mused one evening, "they say no one has ever crossed this desert. Hunger and thirst claim them all. But why did no one else think to hunt the vultures for survival?"

"Because," Manimaran replied, "none could wield a bow as swiftly as you. The slightest movement alerts these birds, and they take flight before an arrow can reach them."

By the following day, they would reach the borders of the kingdom of Nazareth. From there, it would be an easy passage into the land of Turkey, Manimaran assured her.

That night, the cold was relentless, and a fierce desert storm raged outside. The wind howled through their tent, sweeping grains of sand into every crevice.

By dawn, the desert stood eerily still, showing no trace of the storm’s violent passage. "By midday, we will reach the city of Nathanya," Manimaran declared, his voice carrying the first hint of hope in days.

After some time on their journey, towering palaces appeared in the distance. Signs of human activity became visible—figures moving about, the hum of a bustling city reaching their ears.

Overcome with relief, Manimaran and Tara broke into a run, entering the city gates before dropping to their knees and pressing their lips to the earth in gratitude.

Without delay, they sought out an inn, indulged in a long-awaited feast at a local tavern, and surrendered to the deep, dreamless sleep of exhaustion.

The next day, they wandered through the city's vibrant marketplace. Stalls overflowed with fresh vegetables and exotic fruits, while warehouses stood stacked with sacks of grain and dried provisions. The air was thick with the scent of spices, drawing crowds of women to perfumed oil vendors.

A snake charmer played his flute, swaying with the rhythm of a rising cobra as onlookers tossed him coins. Nearby, children performed acrobatic tricks, their laughter ringing through the streets.

"Tara," Manimaran observed, "I understand their speech, but their script is entirely unfamiliar to me."

The men of this city were strikingly tall, some standing at over six and a half feet. Many women veiled their faces, while others moved freely. Their skin varied—some bore a golden hue, while others were dark, yet not of the land of Magara.

It was a city of convergence, where people from distant lands mingled. There were the short, flat-nosed traders from the Kingdom of Ming, the ruddy-skinned merchants from Peru, and the deep-skinned wanderers of Majania. This city was a melting pot, a crossroads of the world.

At the heart of the city lay a vast arena, drawing a surging tide of people towards it. Crowds from neighboring towns and villages had gathered, joined by a smattering of foreigners.

It was the day of the annual gladiatorial tournament of Nazareth.

Encircling the arena were tiered rows of seats, filled to capacity. Every inch of space was crammed with eager spectators, some standing, others pressed against one another in anticipation.

At the highest level, overlooking the throng, stood the royal throne—a grand seat reserved for the king and his queen. Nearby sat members of the royal family, their gazes fixed upon the battleground below.

The thunderous beat of war drums echoed across the vast arena, sending waves of excitement through the crowd. Spectators leaped to their feet, clapping and dancing in rhythm. Children darted between the throng, their laughter ringing through the air. Hidden in the shadows, eager gamblers placed bets on the day's champions, their hushed voices thick with speculation. Occasionally, guards intervened, scattering them with stern warnings—though in some corners, even the soldiers themselves joined in the betting.

A deafening cheer erupted from the stands, a chorus of voices rising in feverish anticipation. Around the arena, food vendors swarmed with customers, their stalls heaped with sizzling camel meat, its rich aroma mingling with the desert air.

Manimaran and Tara sat in a secluded corner, their dark skin and foreign attire drawing curious glances from the crowd. Eyes lingered on them, filled with intrigue and wonder.

Soon, the center of the arena was claimed by a troupe of dancers, their silken costumes shimmering under the sun. The women moved with hypnotic grace, their bodies remaining still as only their bare midriffs and arms undulated in mesmerizing waves. The crowd, already intoxicated with excitement, swayed to the rhythm, their senses dulled as if under a spell.

Manimaran watched, captivated. Tara, eyes narrowing, reached out and playfully covered his gaze with her hands, a smirk tugging at her lips.

After the dancers departed, young boys took to the stage, displaying feats of acrobatics that left the audience in awe. This was followed by a procession of young girls, each carrying a flaming torch, circling the arena in solemn grace.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the arena. The king and queen had arrived. As they took their seats on the grand throne, the crowd erupted in a deafening cheer. The king lifted his hands, and silence swept through the gathering like a tide.

The competitors marched forward, standing in disciplined formation. One by one, their names and homelands were announced to the eager audience. Then, with the sound of the gong, the tournament began.

Fierce battles raged, warriors clashing with unmatched ferocity. One by one, fighters fell, until only three remained. The king, rising from his seat, declared that the victor would be granted anything he desired.

In the end, a warrior named Jonas emerged victorious. As he stood before the king, the ruler asked what reward he sought.

Jonas did not ask for wealth. He did not ask for land.

Instead, he declared, "I want all the wives and daughters of the defeated warriors to serve as concubines in my harem.”

The king refused to accept Jonas’s demand. However, Jonas warned that if the king broke his promise, the people would lose respect for him. As a compromise, the king declared that Jonas must engage in one final duel. If Jonas emerged victorious, his request would be granted.

With arrogance, Jonas declared that should he win the next battle, the queen herself must spend a week in his royal chambers, pleasing him.

Enraged, the king ordered his guards to execute Jonas, but the queen intervened.

"Bravery alone is not enough for a man. He must also have honor, especially towards women. Jonas, your arrogance will be your downfall. Is there a warrior here willing to challenge this man and protect the honor of the queen?"

A hushed silence fell over the arena. Then, Manimaran stepped forward.

"My name is Manimaran. I am a commander from the kingdom of Magara. In my land, women hold the same freedom as men. I will destroy the one who dares to disgrace them. This, I swear upon my sword."

Jonas was a towering figure, seven feet tall, built like a mountain of flesh. In contrast, Manimaran was lean and stood just under six feet. The spectators laughed at the stark contrast, mocking Manimaran. The king, unconvinced, ordered his removal from the arena, but once again, the queen intervened.

"In this kingdom of trembling cowards, I see a true warrior from another land. Though you are a foreigner, you understand the worth of a woman. All the blessings of womankind will be upon you. May you triumph, may you prevail."

Each fighter was given two swords and a shield. Jonas attacked with brute force, but Manimaran, using his intellect, skillfully evaded the strikes. His strategy was to exhaust Jonas before making his move. However, Jonas’s relentless, frenzied attacks left Manimaran with several wounds.

Manimaran launched a counterattack. Moving around Jonas as if dancing, he struck at his weak moments, wounding him. Manimaran’s unconventional combat style left Jonas struggling.

The battle continued for hours without pause. Finally, Manimaran leaped and slashed Jonas’s throat.

The entire arena was stunned. Only the queen stood up and clapped. Then the king followed, applauding, and the spectators rushed into the arena, lifting Manimaran onto their shoulders in celebration.

The king stepped down into the arena and embraced Manimaran. He ordered that both Manimaran and Tara be brought to the palace as honored guests.

They were given luxurious garments and ornaments to wear. Tara was adorned by the royal attendants with great care. Both of them then proceeded to the banquet hall.

For the feast, King Kalib and Queen Sara arrived dressed in regal attire, exuding grandeur. Sara praised Tara, saying, “You look like a queen.” Various dishes were laid out on the table.

Manimaran whispered to Tara, “This food has no spice, no heat—just blandness.”

After the feast, the four of them moved to another chamber. Kalib then revealed that he needed another favor.

“We have four children—two sons and two daughters. Last week, they were kidnapped by the people of Tarukki. We need your help to rescue them.”

“Why were they kidnapped? What do the enemies want?”

“You both must understand the history of this land. Five thousand years ago, our clan lived here. When the great deluge destroyed the world, the prophet Moses led our people safely to this land. The earth perished, but our lineage survived. Yes, Manimara, our holy scriptures say that we are a people chosen by God.

Two thousand years ago, the Viking armies invaded us and conquered our land. Our people fled, scattered across different nations, and sought refuge. Most of them found shelter in the land of Perus, where they became great scholars and merchants. This led to resentment from the local people.”

Twenty years ago, Vladimir ascended the throne as the king of Perus. He ordered the complete extermination of our clan. Our people were imprisoned and subjected to extreme atrocities. They were forced to work for sixteen hours a day under brutal conditions. Those who became weak were executed. Hundreds of thousands of our people perished in these prisons. Some managed to escape from Perus and return to our ancestral land. Our people suffered these horrors because they were stateless wanderers. That is why we established our own independent nation here, on the land of our forefathers. This angered the Tarukki people who had been living here before us. Frequent conflicts erupted between us.

The Tarukki people are savages but lack intelligence. Though they attack us fiercely, they always face defeat at our hands.”

“In this land, there is a city called Shalon. We believe it to be sacred because our chief divine messenger, Jason, was born there. Many of our holy temples are in that city. We took control of Shalon and annexed it into our nation. However, the Tarukki people claim that Shalon is sacred to them as well. They argue that their divine messenger, Abdul Razak, was born there.

For the past month, we have been negotiating with them. But yesterday, they kidnapped our children. They have demanded that our people vacate Shalon entirely.”

“If I send my army to rescue them, the children will be in danger. However, they will not suspect the two of you. I will send a few men to assist you. The Tarukki are ruthless. There is no telling what kind of torture they might inflict. My heart aches for my two daughters who have been taken. We do not know what condition they are in.”

Kalib grasped Manimaran’s hands, desperation in his eyes.

Manimaran patted his shoulder, instilling confidence.

“By tomorrow night, your children will be home. Tara, let’s leave immediately.”

With two warriors accompanying them, they set off on horseback towards Cedina, the capital of the Tarukki nation.

                                                 ——-*****——-

That evening, Tara and Manimaran arrived in the city of Cedina. They had brought three chests with jewelry and ornaments. The royal palace was heavily guarded. Manimaran showed the chests and requested to meet the king and his family in order to present them with gifts. The guards hesitated, but he explained that they were from a foreign land. He also offered them some gold coins as a gift.

The two were then escorted to the royal hall. The palace was magnificent, adorned with gold throughout. The walls were decorated with paintings depicting intimate relationships between men and women. Above, sparkling glass lights hung from the ceiling.

In the hall, the king sat on an ornate golden throne, while the queen sat beside him. On either side, important ministers and officials were seated. In one corner, guests awaited their turn to meet the king.

When their turn came, Manimaran and Tara approached and bowed before the king. They then informed him that they were from the country of Makar.

"I've heard of Makar," said the king. "But crossing the Dwara Desert is no easy task. How did you manage it?"

Tara explained their journey, and those present listened with awe.

"Your Majesty, we have brought some gifts for you."

Manimaran opened two chests to reveal the contents.

"One chest is for you, and the other is for the king," he said.

The king looked at Manimaran with interest.

"And the third chest is for your children."

"If we tell the guards, they will be delivered to the children."

"No, Your Majesty, we want to show it to your children ourselves. Only if we see the happiness on their faces will our hearts be satisfied."

The guards checked the chest.

"This chest will be kept safe in the right place. You may meet the children tomorrow."

The next day, Tara and Manimaran were brought to the palace where the children were staying. The queen informed them that the children were in the next room and would be arriving soon.

Manimaran opened the chest, broke the seal on the side, and pulled out a dagger. He lunged toward the king, placing the dagger to his throat.

"I want the children of the Nasarath king," he demanded.

"They are in the next room," replied the king.

"If anything happens to them, your entire clan will perish."

"You go and see for yourself," the king said, trying to remain calm.

In the room, the children were playing together—Kalib’s children and the children of the enemy kings. Manimaran and Tara were shocked to see the children of two rival kingdoms playing together peacefully.

Tara called for Kalib’s children to come along with them. They expressed their happiness and mentioned that they wanted to stay for a few more days in the palace since they were enjoying themselves and time was passing quickly.

Manimaran dropped the dagger he had been holding. Kalib gestured for him to sit beside him.

“We have lived in this land for five hundred years. A few years ago, our enemies from the land of Peru subjected our people to great cruelty. They became refugees in many lands. There, they were chased and persecuted. But we welcomed them. We gave them land. We allowed them to work. They were resourceful people. They successfully practiced agriculture in this desert land. They even taught us.”

“Everything was going well. But when Kalib became their leader, everything changed. He declared their living areas as their own country. Is this fair? Tell me, can you accept the situation if a guest in your house, after being treated well, suddenly claims that your house is now theirs?”

“We have fought with them many times. But they are clever. Even in warfare, we could not defeat them. That’s why we kidnapped the king’s children. There wasn’t a single scratch on them. We have treated them the same as our own children. You tell me, who is in the right?”

“What is your demand?”

“Let them keep the land where they currently reside. But they must not occupy any new lands. Shalon city is our sacred land. They must vacate it. This is our demand. Taking Kalib’s children was a wrong act on our part. As punishment, you may take our children. Tell Kalib to stop the attacks and come to the negotiating table. Until the talks are over, let my children remain with him.”

“I don’t need your children. You come with me. So far, the discussions between the officials and ministers have been of no use. Only when the two kings meet face to face and speak will there be a solution.”

“You are right. Let Kalib’s children come with us as well. Only then will he trust us. We can leave immediately, without delay.”

                                              ——*****——-

The rulers of two nations held negotiations in the palace of Khalif to decide the future of their countries. A little further back, their chief ministers sat, and on one side, Manimaran and Tara were seated.

Both rulers were drinking high-quality wine.

"Your hospitality delights us, Khalif."

"I owe my thanks to the neighboring king who kept my children safe."

"I like you very much. We could be good friends. If we turn this friendship into something beneficial for our people, both of us will make our mark in history."

"True. We are neighboring nations. So we must go along. Otherwise, the people of both nations will be destroyed. We both know this very well. Therefore, I hope we can find a solution by tonight."

"This is my demand. We are willing to accept the areas where the Nasarath people live in your territory. But no new land should be annexed. Your people must leave Shalon city."

"I agree to the first request. However, Shalon city is our holy land. It is the city where the prophet of our faith manifested. The places he lived and walked are now places of pilgrimage. We cannot give it up."

"Shalon city is also a holy site for us. Everything written in our sacred text was spoken by God. Our prophet Abdul Rasak heard God's voice in the mountains. Shalon city belongs to us. Even a small child from my nation is ready to take up arms and fight to keep it in our possession."

"Then, we have reached a point where war seems to be the only solution, haven’t we?"

"There is another way. Tomorrow, the two of us will engage in the battle we started. Our two armies will decide the future of our two nations. We will sacrifice our lives, if necessary, to save our people from destruction."

"If my life must end by a sword, then there can be no better death, my friend."

"Yes, my friend. It is better to die by the hand of a friend than to perish in a bed from illness."

The next day, the two kings stood ready to continue the battle on the battlefield. The people of both nations gathered in large crowds. Manimaran took the responsibility of declaring the final judgment.

Both kings were warriors of great skill. Instead of fighting in a reckless manner, they employed innovative strategies. The battle lasted for a long time. Night fell. Both were exhausted, but they fought equally.

In the end, they both fell to the ground, too weak to continue fighting. Manimaran declared that the battle had ended without a clear winner or loser. He also declared that the future of the two nations would now be decided accordingly.

Both kings were seriously wounded. After a night of rest, they met again. There was confusion about what decision to make regarding the future of the two nations.

Manimaran suggested a solution. Shalon city should be declared a common city for both nations. The leadership and administration of the city would rotate between the two nations every three years. The people should choose their leaders.

Both kings agreed to this solution. The enmity between the two nations ended, and a new future began that day.

Manimaran and Tara announced that they would take their leave. Khalif asked about their plans for the journey.

"Your journey has been successful. Where are you heading next?"

"We are planning to go to Lama Land. There are some important details regarding the future of our country in that land. The purpose of our journey is to uncover them."

"To reach Lama Land, you must pass through Perus Land. Once you enter Perus Land, you will be thrown into prison."

At that moment, Khadip intervened.

"There is a flaw in our peace plan. Our people are fleeing to this land as refugees due to the atrocities happening in Perus. If this continues, they will be forced to invade new lands to settle. As a result, our peace plan will fail in the future. To prevent this, we must address the root cause of the problem."

"I understand what you are saying, Khadip. Our two nations must be prepared for another war. This time, we must unite and attack a new enemy."

"There are complications in this. Perus is a nation with a large army. Our forces are accustomed to desert warfare. Perus is a cold region, and blizzards are quite common there. I am unsure how our forces will manage this."

"We should not directly attack Perus' capital. Our people are concentrated in the southern region of that country. There is less snow in the south. Therefore, we should only attack the southern region and make it ours."

"In the southern region, there are prisons where your people are held. Our primary objective should be to rescue your people from those prisons."

"What role do Manimaran and Tara play in our plan?"

"It would be dangerous for them to go to Perus alone. They will need our army's help. As a counterpart, they must lead our forces in this war."

Manimaran thought that accepting this would hinder their goal. But Tara was firm that she must participate in the war. The reason being that their efforts required help, which only Khalif and Khadip could provide.

"Therefore, there was no choice but to participate in the war," she said. In the end, Manimaran agreed.

Two weeks passed, and a great army marched towards Perus Land. Four warriors embarked on their journey to face an uncertain future. Their hearts were filled with great enthusiasm.

In the sky, the sun and its companion stars guided the soldiers with their endless movement.

————**********————

After crossing many snowy mountains and enduring numerous hardships, Kanishka and Ashoka reached the capital city of Perus Land, Rasputina. Their plan was to seek the assistance of King Vladimir.

The streets of Rasputina were wide, with grand palaces on either side. The streets were covered in snow, and children were playing, sliding on the snow. Men and women walked arm-in-arm, kissing and strolling along the streets. Crowds gathered in shops selling clothes and aromatic oils. In restaurants, food and wine, along with the dance performances of the dancing girls, attracted customers.

The city was beautifully framed by the Moskva River. In boats, some people fished by casting nets into the river. Strange birds flew along the river, snatching fish as they passed. On the riverbanks, people walked calmly along the path surrounding the river. Entertainment like dance and song delighted the crowds.

After touring the city, Kanishka and Ashoka sat by the riverbank. After recovering from the amazement, Kanishka pointed to the river and spoke to Ashoka.

"For us, who lived in the simplicity of Lama Land, this is a different world."

"Have you ever dreamed of building a city like this in our land?"

"Yes, with a few differences. This city is grand, but lifeless. It only shows superficial grandeur. I will build a great city, combined with the uniqueness of our land's identity."

"In this city, there are no places of worship. The people here are without faith in God. Pleasure and unrestricted consumption are their way of life."

"When a person gains unlimited wealth, they lose their soul. In a life without suffering, where is there room for faith in God?"

Suddenly, some guards entered and arrested a few individuals sitting by the riverbank, taking them away. The arrested individuals were from a different ethnicity.

Ashoka inquired about this matter from some people and explained it to Kanishka.

"They are not from Perus Land. Their ancestors migrated here from Nasarat Land. For many centuries, they have made great achievements in trade and education here. Because of this, the people here have become envious of them. King Vladimir, taking advantage of this, subjects these people to many atrocities. Suddenly, some of them are arrested and locked away in distant prisons. As a result, many have escaped to their homeland, Nasarat Land. The rest who remain are subjected to the king’s cruelty. The politics of this land stink."

"Politics of hatred is a very powerful weapon. It is natural for people to become suspicious and distant from those who are different from them. Those in power use this to stir up the people and maintain their authority."

"I’m having doubts whether it was right to seek help from Vladimir. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would welcome outsiders with open arms."

"This is their internal politics. It doesn’t affect us."

"I investigated further, and Perus Land has a close relationship with Ming Land. It will not be easy to pull Vladimir towards our side. What do we have to offer them? You might say trade. But Ming Land is stronger than us economically. Perus Land has had a trade relationship with them for centuries. Vladimir will not agree to lose that. We’ve come here without understanding the political situation of this land and have found ourselves stuck."

Kanishka was deep in thought. After a while, he shared his thoughts with Ashoka.

"Ming Land can offer something we cannot. Here, during the cold seasons, people wear fur clothes, but these clothes are expensive. We can sell them clothes at reasonable prices."

"How many animals would we need to kill for that? Your plan is against the soul of our land. I do not agree to this."

"Our land is at the brink of survival. We must make some sacrifices."

"There is another issue. There are no easy routes to enter our land from Perus Land through the harsh snowy mountains. We face many challenges to reach Perus Land. The only thing we lack is our lives. Trade between the two lands is not so simple, is it?"

"Didn’t the people of Ming Land find a path to our land?"

"What are you trying to say?"

"We can sell goods to Ming Land. They can then sell it to Perus Land."

Ashoka looked at Kanishka in amazement.

"With Vladimir's help, we can turn the enmity with Ming Land into friendship. We can prevent a major war. You are a genius, Kanishka."

Two guards approached them and asked them to come with them. They said they would stay in the royal palace for a couple of days, and an important person would meet them. Ashoka, confused, asked Kanishka.

"Are we being arrested?"

"No, we were thinking about how to meet the king, right? The opportunity has come."

Vladimir's chief minister met with them daily, inquiring about their well-being. He mentioned that the king would meet them soon. Kanishka, growing impatient, was told that the king was distressed due to his daughter’s severe illness. Kanishka offered that he could cure the king's daughter. The minister said he would inform the king about this.

Within minutes, a summons came from the king. His daughter was lying in a deep fever. With worry written on their faces, both Vladimir and the queen were sitting nearby. The royal physician had said that she would die within a few days.

Kanishka prepared a decoction from the herbs he had and gave it to the princess. After three days of treatment, the princess was completely cured. In gratitude, the queen held a feast for Kanishka and Ashoka.

The king and queen eagerly inquired about the details of Lama Land. Kanishka explained the enmity with Ming Land and requested Vladimir’s help in seeking a reconciliation.

"As a father, I thank you. But as a king, my duty is what I must do. We will discuss this in the royal council tomorrow."

In the royal council hall, Vladimir, the queen, and the chief minister were seated. Kanishka and Ashoka explained the situation of their land.

"Only nations with equal strength can maintain friendships. Accordingly, Ming and Perus have had friendly relations for centuries. Lama Land is in a peculiar position. You have no military power, and because of that, it’s impossible to prevent enemy countries from influencing you."

"Our forces have captured the capital of Ming Land and several other cities. Ming's forces are struggling to reclaim them. The king of Ming has requested our military assistance."

"The reason for your current situation is that Ming's king believes you two are the cause. The spies sent word of your arrival to him. He demands that you be captured and handed over. I am obligated to fulfill this request. If you are handed over to them, death is certain. However, because of the help you have given me, I will ensure that you remain alive in our land’s prison. I will sentence you to five years of imprisonment, but you will not be treated like other criminals. Instead of hard labor, you will be assigned to office work. You will stay in the comfortable cells of our prison. As a king, my hands are tied. Please forgive me."

Hearing Vladimir's decision, the queen argued angrily and left the council hall.

The two of them mounted their horses, and ten warriors were ready to accompany them. On the palace rooftop, Vladimir and his family were watching. The warriors tried to bind their hands. The king gestured from above, signaling them to stop.

As they were about to leave, the king's daughter ran down and kissed Kanishka's hands. She gave him a painting she had made as a token of remembrance. Kanishka's face was depicted in the painting.

The journey towards the southern part of the Perus country began.

After ten days, they arrived at a coastal city. From there, boats were available to travel to several small islands. On those islands were prisons where prisoners were kept.

They were taken to one of the islands. They were placed in a building with comfortable rooms.

On the island, they were allowed to go anywhere they wished. They were given small accounting and administrative tasks.

They visited the prisons where other prisoners were held. There, they befriended a man named Rabeeq, a man from the Nasarat country. He explained the purpose of these prisons.

"Prisoners from countries like mine, political prisoners, and those who rebelled against the government are all kept in these prisons. You may wonder how much it costs the government to maintain so many prisons and prisoners. Isn't it easier for them to just kill everyone? That's where Vladimir's intelligence comes into play. These prisons form the foundation for the prosperous cities and the rich lives of the people in Perus. Imagine the prisons on each island as cities with factories. There is nothing here that isn't manufactured. The prisoners work sixteen hours a day. They don't receive any wages. They only get three meals a day. Because of this, the goods that travel from here to the cities are incredibly cheap. Without these prisons, the economy of Perus would collapse."

"The atrocities committed against the prisoners are beyond words. They are all locked up in tiny rooms like livestock. The guards here aren't even human. The suffering and pain of others are their form of entertainment. Even the smallest mistake on the job results in severe punishment."

"Have there been any uprisings here?"

"Once, all the prisoners refused to eat. After more than a week, many of them could not endure the hunger. The peaceful uprising failed."

The other prisoners realized that Kanishka and Ashoka were receiving special privileges. So, every time they saw them, they would sing praises.

Kanishka discussed this with Ashoka.

"If we want to escape from here, we must initiate an armed uprising. I have plans for it. The first step is to stay in the prisons where the other prisoners are held."

Ashoka agreed. The next day, both of them were placed in the common prison.

Kanishka discussed his plan with Rabeeq and his companions. Two weeks later, the prisoner's revolution took place.

There were five thousand guards in total across all the prisons, but fifty thousand prisoners. Among them, ten thousand were in good health. There was an armory on a nearby island. Since it was a Sunday, security was low everywhere. The guards were in taverns and entertainment halls. On that day, some prisoners banded together and seized the weapons. They killed the guards who were intoxicated.

All the islands came under the control of the prisoners. However, Kanishka was anxious. He expected royal forces to attack at any moment.

The forces arrived. But they were not the royal forces. They were the forces of Manimaran.

Then, the  ship sea dove rose, stirring in the turbulent ocean waters.

Were these events a dream? Kanishka and the prisoners were left in awe and wonder.

                                           ———-**********———

                                                                 Part 8

The coastline of Leov city was filled with soldiers from various nations. Initially, soldiers from one country approached soldiers from another with curiosity. Then, they teased each other, exchanged jokes, and drank alcohol together.

Kanishka realized that the army arriving in the city was not Vladimir's forces. He looked at Manimaran, who was leading the army, with astonishment. He had never seen anyone like him—his dark skin, graceful body, and firm physique were unlike anyone from other nations. Behind him, Tara, a dark-skinned woman, was also exceptionally beautiful.

Soon after, several more soldiers entered the city. They were led by Khalif and Khadip. As soon as the prisoners from the Nasarat nation saw Khalif, they cheered and welcomed him with loud voices.

Kanishka introduced himself to Manimaran. When Manimaran realized that Kanishka was from Lama country, he was delighted. He felt an inner certainty that Kanishka would be a close companion to him. Khalif asked Manimaran something, and then he told his soldiers that Kanishka was one of them, gesturing to him.

In a short while, the coastline became bustling. A massive ship was approaching the shore. All the soldiers became anxious, fearing it might be Vladimir's ship.

However, Khadip reassured them that Vladimir did not have such a ship. It was the Sea Eagle. From the ship, a boat arrived carrying Rousseau, Stella, and Alexander.

As soon as Alexander was spotted, the prisoners cheered and welcomed him. Everyone knew that he was a highly respected person among the people of the Perus nation.

After everyone exchanged mutual introductions, it was decided that the key leaders and commanders would have a meeting to discuss the next steps.

The meeting began the next morning. Stella spoke first.

"Meeting all of you has been a delightful shock for me, and I believe the same for all of you. We never imagined we would meet new friends here before we journeyed to this city. The hands of many nations have come together, and we will create a new history.

My country is a large island surrounded by seas on all four sides. Apart from my people, I haven’t encountered many others. This is the first time I am seeing such a diverse group of people.

Though our goal is the same, differences may arise among us. Because we come from various cultural backgrounds, it becomes more complex. To avoid these conflicts, we must maintain continuous communication. We must immediately address and remove any differences without allowing them to grow. This responsibility falls on all of us sitting here.

Now, let’s begin the discussion about our next actions."

Rousseau raised the question of who would lead if Vladimir falls. Everyone unanimously spoke Alexander’s name.

It was decided that Manimaran, Tara, Alexander, Khadip, and Khalif would lead the army together. The five of them would be given command over different divisions of the army. They would have full authority over battle strategies and decisions. No interference would be allowed.

Since they were from different nations, there could be differences in opinion. The responsibility to unite everyone was given to Ashoka. It was decided that Stella and Kanishka would have the final say on resolving any differences.

Nietszhe and Spinoza were assigned the task of developing new weapons for the war.

Rousseau proposed recording the great historical event of the war and creating an epic.

It was planned that within two weeks, the army would move towards Rasputina city.

The meeting went smoothly, and everyone was pleased. After everyone dispersed, Kanishka called Nietszhe  aside for a long discussission.

Then, both of them headed towards Kanishka's quarters.

———-**********———

Manimaran had been training Kanishka for several days. In the first few days, Kanishka struggled, but soon he showed great proficiency. His self-defense methods were innovative. Kanishka's strategy was to endure the enemy’s attacks for a long time, weaken them, and then counterattack. During one of the training sessions, Manimaran failed for the first time.

"For four hours, you never attacked me once. Your concentration is incredibly sharp. You avoided my attacks with great precision. The moment I was tired, you flipped me over."

"I've been meditating since I was a child, which sharpens my senses. I can even feel an ant moving in this room."

"You didn’t show aggression in using the sword. It was like the movement of a dancer. What was the purpose of your training?"

"Only for self-defense."

"Could you kill another life for your own defense?"

"I will practice all the aspects of self-defense to avoid killing. Just like what we did in today’s training. But sometimes, I realize that avoiding death is not possible. To free the prisoners here from the royal guards, violence was necessary. And I know that the new weapons created by Neidshay and Spinoza will cause severe damage to life."

"I heard there are no armies to protect your country. A different world is yours."

"To put it plainly, I am the first extremist of my people. My previous mentors completely avoided violence. Their philosophy was to show strength and respect in front of the enemy who comes to kill. In doing so, I believe their conscience would be stirred, hidden somewhere inside them. This was the teaching of my guru Naropa."

"This hand has offered many sacrifices. During our religious festivals, the human sacrifices are arranged by my hands."

"I cannot understand your religious doctrines. The one who saves all life is God. How can a person who desires to create death for another be considered a god?"

"Death is not a loss. It is another birth in another world. There, one could be close to God. In that world, there is only celebration and happiness. From this perspective, human sacrifice does not seem wrong."

"During human sacrifice, one should awaken the deepest feelings within. Is not compassion the true spirituality?"

"The strong will win, no matter what methods they use. Mercy shown to the weak is a false emotion. A man forces himself with strength. One should let their emotions pass naturally. There is no greater sin than guilt."

"You are from a foreign lineage. That is why there are differences in our thoughts."

"Today, you must share meat and wine with me to celebrate our friendship."

"I cannot do that. Ask for something else."

"There is an important reason why Dara and I are traveling to Lama. In our country, there is no stable government. There are many wars and changes in rulers. For the current government to remain in power, the people must prosper. To achieve this, the political leaders in my country believe new scientific ideas are necessary. The secrets of these ideas are hidden in a cave in your country's icy mountains. I need your help with this."

"The icy mountains of my land are beautiful. But there are no scientific secrets hidden there as you think. I can assure you of that."

"Certainly, there are. Think carefully. Only in your country, which follows a simple way of life, can these secrets be safely hidden."

  "I will not betray your trust. I am ready to help you in any way you need, for the sake of our new friendship, for the sake of the new good relationship between our two countries."

The two of them tightly clasped each other's hands.

————*************————-

Stella had invited Tara to show her the sea bird. Tara was awestruck looking at the ship.

"If we survive the upcoming war, I will give you a ship like this as a gift for your country."

"This ship must be powerful enough to withstand massive storms."

Without responding to that, Stella grabbed Tara’s back. Then, she slipped her hands around Tara’s waist and pressed against her chest.

"Dark-skinned beauty. How large your eyes are. Your back beauty, the firmness of your breasts, it’s like a rock. That man, what is his name? Manimaran. There’s no surprise in him chasing after you like a puppy."

Tara pressed her lips to Stella’s lips. Stella was lost in ecstasy. Then, she broke free from Tara’s embrace.

"This is wrong. I am betraying Ruuso."

"This is not betrayal. It’s the fundamental feeling that resides in all living beings."

"But as humans, we are civilized. Our behavior towards each other taints the sanctity of the bond between one person and another."

"In my country, this is very normal."

"In Utopia, a woman having a relationship with another woman is something that cannot even be imagined."

"It happens there too. Secretly."

"That may be true, but our religion says that the first step toward true liberation is controlling bodily desires."

"Only through granting freedom to the body and its desires can inner liberation be achieved. Inner awakening happens in a state of joy, not in a state of sorrow and guilt."

"All wise people discovered life's great truths through sorrow."

"Human life is a great gift. Every moment of life should be celebrated as a play. It takes only a little brain to understand this. Knowledge is not needed."

"Anyone who debates with you must lose. The women of your country have complete freedom. But your politics is not like that."

"Why do you say that?"

"Your country is ruled by a small group. The people are trapped in the hands of politicians. They don't even realize that this group decides their lives."

"If that group are sages, there is no problem."

"The politics of a country is a compromise between many groups. In every political decision, one part of the people will win, and another part will lose. A good leader should try to minimize the losses."

"How is that possible?"

"Through moral discourse between the various groups in the country. Each ethnicity must be a part of the politics. This can only be possible through democracy."

"When the leaders of my country face problems, they don't make arbitrary decisions. They hold negotiations with the involved groups and come to a consensus."

"But if these leaders are replaced by others, there is no guarantee that this will continue. Compromise and negotiations between different groups should be guaranteed in the political constitution. Only that can ensure stability."

"In our country, there is no political constitution."

"Your foundation is weak."

"But don't all citizens lack the ability to make the right choices?"

"Each citizen's choice should be based on their own self-interest. The country exists for the citizens, not the citizens for the country."

"If every individual makes choices based on their own needs, where is there room for compromise? It would just lead to confusion."

"Compromise happens through the voting process and through the distribution of power among multiple parties after the election. To an outsider, it might just look like confusion, but clear decisions are made from within."

"What you say is worth considering. You've won this argument."

"In a short while, it will be dark. We must head toward the shore."

The two of them got off the ship and boarded a boat heading toward the shore.

————**********————

On the beach, Nietzsche and Spinoza were intensely discussing something. Ashoka joined them.

"I hope I haven't interrupted when two great minds are having a conversation."

Spinoza smiled and gestured for Ashoka to sit nearby.

"If the person joining the conversation is another scholar of science, what disturbance does that cause us? He is also a philosopher, is the question."

"Can we know what the conversation is about?"

"There are countless stars and planets in this universe. The essence of the debate is whether there can be a planet like Earth and people like us in any of them."

Nietzsche agreed with that.

"In that world, Nietzsche, Spinoza raised an intriguing question: Is there another version of Nietzsche in that world?"

"Also, the question arose whether there would be a Nietzsche and Spinoza in that world talking like us at this moment."

"Did you find the answer to the question?"

"After thinking from many angles, there is no clear answer."

Ashoka answered with a smile.

"This universe is infinite. The particles in it are also infinite. But the combination of particles is finite. Isn't it natural that our Earth and many other worlds where Nietzsche and Spinoza live exist in this universe?"

"Excellent answer. Ashoka seems to have thought of something that we did not, Nietzsche?"

"He is a philosopher, capable of thinking from a different perspective."

Ashoka smiled with self-restraint.

"The purpose of philosophy is to teach us to think from different perspectives. Philosophy, beyond science, also deals with art, culture, ethics, and society. That is why in philosophy, we find compassion and beauty that science cannot offer. The answer to how science should be used is not found in science. It is found in philosophy and literature."

"Good. We now face a great moral dilemma. The answer to it must come from you."

Spinoza signaled, and the three of them moved away from the beach.

They entered a building adjacent to the prison. There were several weapons inside.

"This is the confusion we are facing. We have been ordered to create new types of weapons for the upcoming war. These are missiles attached with explosives. If used in war, they will cause massive destruction in the enemy's city. Not only the soldiers but the civilians in the city would also be certain to die. I cannot accept creating these. Nietzsche believes there is nothing wrong with it. What is your opinion, Ashoka?"

"Just as victory in war is important, so too is ensuring minimal casualties, and carrying out the war in a way that does not severely harm ordinary citizens. This is a sign of good leadership."

Nietzsche, who had been silent until then, intervened.

"History tells us that no war has ever been conducted like this. In war, countless atrocities have been inflicted upon the enemy's women and children."

"That may be true. But can we not be part of the first war conducted with humanitarian principles?"

"A war conducted with humanitarian principles. Two contradictory words in one sentence. We are merely arrows. The ones who aim are others."

Ashoka looked at Nietzsche with a question in his eyes.

"Yes, these weapons are being created under the orders of our leaders, Caliph, Kadif, and Manimaran."

"What is Stella and Kanishka's position on this?"

"Our position is the same as theirs. Ambiguity."

"Has Kanishka not opposed this? How much he has changed. This is not the Kanishka I once knew. I must discuss this matter with him immediately."

Ashoka left and hurried towards the building where Kanishka was.

                   ——-******——

Kanishka was sitting with two women, holding a glass of alcohol. As Ashoka wished to speak privately, the women excused themselves.

Ashoka: "I hear that you have agreed to employ destructive weapons in the upcoming war. I need an explanation."

Kanishka: "If it’s you, Ashoka, I must explain. I don’t fully consent to this. However, I don't see a better alternative."

Ashoka: "A city will be annihilated. Innocent people will perish in flames. The Kanishka I knew would never approve of this. You have changed."

Kanishka: "Our army consists of fifty thousand men, while the enemy has sixty thousand. With both sides of equal strength, massive casualties are inevitable. No matter how brilliant our strategy, the war will drag on for months, perhaps even years. Famine and disease will devastate the common people, leading to certain death. If you have a better course of action, I would like to hear it."

Ashoka: "Vladimir holds goodwill towards us. He saved our lives from the Ming king. We could stage a small skirmish, feign it as an engagement, and call for negotiations. This would allow us to avoid a full-scale war."

Kanishka: "We may avoid war for the time being, but there is no guarantee that another conflict won’t arise. This war is not solely between two nations; five countries are involved. The spark for the next war could ignite from any direction."

Ashoka: “What do you mean hereKanishka: "To achieve this, we must inflict a massive destruction upon the enemy in this war. We need to instill fear and terror in them. The next time they think of attacking us, they should not even dare to consider it due to the overwhelming devastation they will face. That is the foundation of lasting peace. This war will prevent many future wars. This destruction will prevent greater catastrophes. Do you understand?"

Ashoka: "Who proposed this method?"

Kanishka: "I did."

Ashoka: "Our ancestors will never forgive you. Future generations will condemn you. You will be a dark stain in history."

Ashoka walked away. Kanishka watched him leave with a smile.

                          ——-******——-

The army marched towards Rasputina city, passing through several villages and towns. Along the way, they encountered no opposition. Khalif had expected that Vladimir's forces might surprise them along the route. However, Vladimir considered the fortifications of Rasputina to be his strength.

The army faced both hospitality in some villages and opposition in others. Regardless of the people's actions, it was the general’s order that the soldiers should not be provoked. They gathered the necessary food supplies for the war along the way.

As the army approached the fortifications of Rasputina, they encountered tall, impenetrable walls. The fort was difficult to breach due to its height, and a wide trench and small hill just outside the fort made direct assault even more challenging. The army camped atop the hill, under the command of Manimaran.

The villagers surrounding the fort were evacuated. Even after a week of camped observation, there was no movement inside the fort. Vladimir, knowing that the enemy’s strength lay in the fortifications, believed that confronting them in the open fields was in his favor.

Manimaran gave the order to begin the assault. The soldiers, moving cautiously, descended from the hill and formed ranks in the field before the fort.

Following the traditions of war, Ashoka approached the fort and, seeking to avoid further bloodshed, presented the terms of his side. One of their terms was that the southern portion of the Perusian lands should be given to Alexander. However, Vladimir’s side rejected all terms outright.

The battle began. Manimaran's forces advanced towards the fort. Suddenly, enemy soldiers launched a surprise attack from the left. Ming soldiers, in a frenzied attack, overwhelmed the army.

No one had anticipated the Ming forces. The surprise left Manimaran’s army in disarray. After Khalif and Khadip encouraged the troops, the army regained some order.

Both sides fought fiercely. Manimaran, with his hurricane-like sword swings, wreaked havoc among the enemy. This drew the best Ming warriors to surround him. As they attacked in a circular formation, Manimaran defended himself with great skill, cutting down the attackers one by one. Wherever Manimaran went, he saw the heads of his soldiers falling. Seeing this, the Ming king himself charged at Manimaran. After a fierce battle, the wounded Ming king had to retreat.

Manimaran’s heroic actions inspired his troops. Just as the army was nearing victory, another unexpected turn of events occurred.

Suddenly, soldiers led by Vladimir launched a fierce attack from the right. Caught in a trap between attacks from both sides, Manimaran’s army struggled. Tara, like a storm, drove her army forward and infiltrated the enemy ranks. With her bow, she fired multiple arrows at once, killing several of the enemies.

Despite Manimaran's determination and Tara’s valor, they could not withstand the brilliance of the enemy’s strategic maneuvers. On one side, Khalif struggled with the enemy's vicious attacks, suffering grave injuries. With the help of a few warriors, Khadip managed to protect Khalif. The two found refuge atop the hill in a safe spot.

From the top of the hill, Stella and Kanishka observed the dire state of their army.

Stella: "Defeat is certain."

Kanishka: "As long as the last soldier is alive and the last weapon remains in our hands, defeat is not certain."

Stella: "It feels like a mere daydream. We must order our troops to retreat. We can end today’s battle here."

Kanishka: "That’s a good plan. Let us hope tomorrow will bring a brighter dawn."

Stella sent a message to retreat the troops. The army withdrew, but Manimaran and Tara did not return.

Ruso and Ashoka went to the battlefield in search of them.

The battlefield was filled with corpses. Vultures swarmed, devouring the dead. Headless bodies and severed heads were scattered. Soldiers, whose arms and legs had been severed, screamed in agony, unable to bear the pain. Arrows and torn garments lay in the dirt. Beneath the bodies of the fallen, soldiers, still alive, cried out for help. Some wounded soldiers, driven by madness, ran aimlessly. The ground was stained red with blood. Soldiers who had survived, though wounded, were being carried by their comrades.

Manimaran lay on the battlefield, severely injured. Blood poured from his body, where sword strikes had left gaping wounds. Three arrows were embedded in his chest. His eyes fluttered as he felt his life slipping away. In his fading consciousness, dismembered heads appeared before him, their faces mocking him with cruel grins. Each one was a face from the past, the heads of those he had slain during the Purisivus festival. A feeling of guilt overwhelmed Manimaran. He folded his hands, praying for forgiveness.

"I am dying. I fear death. Oh, Lord, let me live. What cowardice is this? I fear death, yet I have killed without mercy. Manimaran, you are not just a coward, but a selfish one. Death is better than life for you. Go. Leave your body behind. May you suffer and toil in the cruel hell of the afterlife."

Ruso, recognizing Manimaran's body, approached him. Confirming that he was still alive, he called for help. His comrades rushed to carry Manimaran to a safer place.

Ashoka searched for Tara across the battlefield. She was lying in a corner, tightly gripping her bow and sword in both hands. Her eyes were closed. Her soul had already detached from her body, bidding farewell with a smile as she gazed upon her physical form. With a deep sigh, her spirit rose, leaving the earth behind, traveling at the speed of light into the cosmos. A star in the sky shimmered, as if calling out to her. Tara reached that star.

In this new realm, she found herself surrounded by snowy mountains and pale faces. A wise old man, dressed in white with a long beard, stood waiting for her.

"I wasn’t expecting you yet, Tara. Your time has not yet come."

"Who are you?"

"I am Purisivus, often called the Father of this Universe. There is meaning in names, but I am the One who fills all."

"Purisivus, is it true? Did you create this Universe?"

The old man laughed and gestured, "Go, Tara."

She walked into a dark hole. In an instant, she returned to her body on the battlefield. Her eyes opened, and her lips moved slightly.

Seeing this, Ashoka cried out loudly for help.

"Tara hasn’t left. She’s still alive! Come! Help her!"

Some of the soldiers rushed to lift her body and ran toward the hill.

Meanwhile, a discussion was underway regarding the state of the war. Kanishka, Stella, Ashoka, and Alexander participated in the debate.

Stella: "Manimaran, Tara, Kaleef, and Khadip are not in a condition to fight tomorrow. Our army must retreat."

Kanishka: "We don't need to make that decision just yet. Tomorrow, we will need to deploy our most important weapon. Only this will bring the war to an end."

Alexander: "Nietzsche, we need more details about your weapons."

Nietzsche: "These are explosive missiles. If we launch them at the city from a distance, they can cause immense destruction."

Alexander: "Can you explain the scale of the destruction?"

Nietzsche: "These are untested weapons. Only after using their full range will we know their full potential."

Kanishka: "I understand. What is your estimate?"

Nietzsche: "Based on scientific principles, four missiles would destroy Rasputina city entirely."

Kanishka: "How many do we have?"

Nietzsche: "We have five missiles."

Kanishka: "Then tomorrow, we will launch the missiles towards Rasputina. Stella, what are your thoughts?"

Stella, lost in confusion, did not respond.

Kanishka: "I’ll take your silence as agreement."

Ashoka was about to speak against it, but Kanishka stopped him. The group dispersed.

The next morning dawned. Alexander ordered the troops to stay on the hill. Slowly, the enemy forces entered the battlefield. Seeing no signs of movement from the opposing side, Vladimir was taken aback. He halted his forces and watched carefully the movements from the hill.

Suddenly, a missile flew through the sky. As it struck the heart of the city, a loud explosion echoed. Fires broke out throughout the city. Two more missiles hit the western and eastern borders of the city. A deafening sound like an earthquake pierced through the air. The castle walls shattered, crumbling into dust and falling below.

Vladimir's troops scattered and fled. From the hill, under Alexander’s command, the army swiftly entered the battlefield and attacked Vladimir’s forces. The Emperor of the Ming Dynasty was struck by an arrow and fell, dead, to the ground.

Vladimir's soldiers continued to flee, scattering in all directions. Alexander's army pursued them, slaying many.

Vladimir wandered in confusion, unable to bear the pain of his injuries. He collapsed to the ground. His vision blurred. From a distance, he could see someone approaching. As the figure drew closer, he recognized it was Kanishka.

Kanishka gathered him in his arms and laid him in his lap. He gave him water.

"Forgive me. You saved my life. I am ungrateful. I regret my actions."

"You have caused great destruction. Wars will be fought this way in the future. True warriors will have no place in battle."

"I never imagined the consequences of my decision would be so brutal. I promise you this: as long as I live, I will do everything in my power to ensure these weapons are never used in any war. Even if it costs me my life."

"Help me. I can’t bear this pain. Drive this sword into my heart. Grant me a warrior’s death."

With tears in his eyes, Kanishka took the sword and drove it toward Vladimir. After Vladimir died, Kanishka stood in silence for a few moments, paying his respects. Then he moved away from the battlefield.

Nietzsche wandered through the streets of Rasputina city like a madman. The entire city was aflame. Great buildings and palaces lay in ruins. Corpses floated in the Moskva River.

In the rubble of a building, a young boy was trapped. Nietzsche reached out to help him. The boy rejected his hand, pushing it away. Nearby, the charred body of a five-month-old infant lay lifeless, its finger unscathed. Nietzsche gently traced the tiny finger.

"I am a sinner. A murderer," Nietzsche muttered as he ran off in a frenzy.

A once-proud, cultured city lay in ruins, buried beneath the earth. Evening came. The sun in the sky turned red. As it slowly faded, dark night embraced the earth. The wails from Rasputina city did not cease. In a few days, they might stop. But the cries that echoed in the hearts of those who had lived and will live there would never fade.

Some wounds and their suffering are not so easily forgotten.

                                       ——-*****——-

The morning sun gently sent its rays into the room. The light touched Manimaran’s face, waking him up. As he opened his eyes, he saw Kanishka standing at the door. Kanishka entered and sat next to Manimaran.

Manimaran’s body was covered in bandages. It had been three days, and today was the first time he had regained his memory. As soon as he saw Kanishka, he spoke with enthusiasm. However, Kanishka did not respond to the conversation. His thoughts seemed distant, lost in another place. As Manimaran touched Kanishka's hands, he looked at him as if waking from a dream.

“Asoka hasn’t spoken to me. He says he’s going to the Utopia kingdom,” Manimaran said.

“It is natural for friends to have differences in opinion. One part of your soul — it is him. He will come back to you once more,” Kanishka replied.

“I have terrifying dreams. A hand keeps reaching out in those dreams. The hand of Naroba.”

“Next time, hold that hand,” Kanishka suggested.

“Yes, that’s what I was thinking. Many doubts are tormenting me. I think I’ve caused a great destruction. All the theories I’ve created in my mind until now seem to be wrong.”

“If you hadn’t made that decision in the war, we would all be buried in this earth now.”

“Still, I cannot escape the feeling of guilt. Yesterday, we met everyone from our group. We vowed that no country would use such weapons in future wars. Any countries that try will be isolated and subjected to severe economic measures. What do you think of this decision?”

“I am not a leader. Just a warrior. I am bound by whatever decision you make,” Kanishka replied.

“In two days, we will journey to the Lama kingdom. Before going to Tripoli, we will first seek what you need in the Kancha mountains. Another piece of news: Tara and Spinoza are coming to the Lama kingdom. But instead of joining us to the Kancha mountains, they are going straight to Tripoli.”

As Kanishka left, Manimaran, exhausted, fell into a deep sleep.

———-**********———

In a vast meadow, Stella and Rousseau sat closely, embracing each other. Rousseau noticed the tears in Stella's eyes and gently laid her head in his lap.

“I now understand how inaction can lead to so much misery. That day, Kanishka asked for my opinion on using weapons in the war. I remained silent. How could I, unable to make a decision, lead the Utopia nation? My father would never forgive me,” Stella confessed.

“Whatever decision you made that day would have had consequences.”

“Whether it was good or bad, I should have made a choice.”

“You’ve only just assumed leadership. You don’t have much experience yet. Take this as a lesson and move forward. You will be a better leader than your father.”

Stella kissed Rousseau's hands.

Rousseau smiled and said, “Asoka is coming with us to Utopia.”

Stella replied, “I believe that will be beneficial for us.”

Rousseau left Stella and went to Ashoka's chamber.

"I spoke to Stella about your coming to the land of Utopia. She was very pleased."

"I learned that there are printing presses in your country. I would like to use this journey to learn the printing technology and read your books."

"Before you arrive, go and take leave from Kanishka. He is in a very broken state."

"There is a small gap needed in our relationship right now. I will return to the land of Lama. I will join him there. You tell Kanishka this. In my current state of mind, I can't face him."

"Alright. Let it be that way."

"I know you are a historian. The land of Peru has weakened. The Ming Empire is without leadership. Which nation do you think will become a great empire next?"

"Empires in history go through three phases. First, they become strong and overthrow the existing empire. The second phase is when they retain their empire status. The third phase is their downfall."

"Kanishka once told me about these three stages in a different context. The three stages of nature—birth, preservation, and death—also apply to empires."

"Yes. For your first question's answer: The era of empires is over. A society formed by the cooperation of many countries will emerge. This will bring great benefits to humanity. Many issues that cannot be solved by one country alone will be resolved. Your friend Kanishka sowed the first seed for this."

Ashoka eagerly looked at Rousseau.

"I am telling you that now, no country will use destructive weapons again. Everyone has taken an oath. This was made possible by Kanishka's efforts. This is the beginning of how countries will unite to make decisions. It is becoming real. We will meet tomorrow."

                            ——*****—-

From a distance, when Manimaran saw the Kanchen mountain range, he was awestruck. The grand mountain stood far away, its peak adorned with clouds like a crown.

As they approached the ice mountain, Manimaran stretched his hands and bowed, sitting down. He gathered the ice crystals in his hands and smeared them all over his face. He threw the ice crystals towards Kanishka.

"I have never sailed the seas in my life. I have never seen ice mountains. I have never traveled in deserts. All of this has happened in just a few days. I feel blessed by Purisivas."

The two of them continued their journey along the mountain path, examining several caves along the way. But they found nothing.

Manimaran grew weary. Kanishka suggested they return to Tripoli city. But Manimaran had an idea.

"Kanishka, take me to the place where Naropa first saw you, the place where he died."

The two of them walked along narrow paths, reached the peak, and then descended a little to stand before the rock where Naropa had died. Kanishka was overwhelmed with tears as he remembered Naropa. Manimaran held him and they searched the area around the spot. They found a small cave.

Inside, there were paintings on the walls. These resembled the ones that Agnideva had shown on the Makar mountains of the Makar region. But these paintings seemed to tell the history of the land of Lama.

In the paintings, there were scenes of Manimaran, Tara, and Spinoza visiting the land of Lama. There were scenes showing them coming to the land of Lama, and Tara staying there to form an army.

The two of them gazed in awe at the paintings for a long time. In front of one painting, Kanishka stood still for several minutes, deeply contemplating. Then he called Manimaran over and showed him the painting.

In the painting, Manimaran and Spinoza were seen traveling from the land of Lama to the Makar region by ship. There, Spinoza was seen creating various machines.

"My friend, you must understand what scientific secrets you are searching for."

Manimaran smiled and nodded, signaling that he understood. The two of them descended from the Kanchen mountain and set off towards Tripoli city.

                                                    ——-*****——-

In Tripoli city, Manimaran and Kanishka were given a warm welcome. Manimaran was greatly pleased to meet Tara and Spinoza there. Tara mentioned that she had decided to stay for a few days in the land of Lama to assist them. Manimaran acknowledged that he had already known this.

A grand celebration was organized for the new visitors from a distant land. During this event, Kanishka delivered a speech about the future of the land of Lama.

"Our world is changing right before our eyes. In the past, our land operated as an isolated world. But the future will be a world where many nations are united. Cultures, arts, ideas, and trade will be exchanged between different nations.

In such a world, how should the land of Lama adapt itself? First, we can no longer rely on the great mountains of nature for the protection of our land. Our nation needs an army. We must learn to wield swords. Tara from the Makar nation will help us train.

We are moving towards a new path. Does that mean we must completely reject the words of our ancestors? Should we disregard the guidance of Naropa? No. On our new path, we may stumble. We may become arrogant at times due to our victories and overstep our bounds. At those times, the words of Naropa will help bring us back to equilibrium. Even if the path we take is not suitable for him, we will walk forward with the outstretched hands he offered."

The next day, Manimaran and Spinoza prepared to depart. Tara mentioned that the Makar nation would arrive in a year or two. This time, a desert journey would not be needed to reach the Makar nation. The plan was to set sail from the city of Leo in the Perus nation. A ship had already been constructed under Spinoza's supervision for the journey to the Makar nation.

Manimaran felt the call of his homeland. The horses carrying both of them flew at lightning speed.

                      —-******—-

In the royal court of Madurapuri, the neutral king, Killi Valavan, was seated. Beside him were Agnideva, Meghnathan, and Neelakandan.

Killi Valavan: "Where is Tara, the one who came with you? What have you done to her?"

Manimaran: "She is fine. She will stay in the land of Lama for a while and will return later."

Killi Valavan: "I cannot trust you. Why did you come back empty-handed? Where are the scientific secrets we requested? Who is this foreigner?"

Manimaran then narrated his entire journey.

"The secret we are searching for is not in scrolls. It resides in human thoughts. This secret is embodied in Spinoza, a man from the nation of Uthopia. He has created many machines. I can show you one of them. Tomorrow, we will go to the port in Muthunagar. There, you will all witness a great marvel."

The next day, they all arrived at Muthunagar. They were awestruck to see a gigantic ship standing there.

"This ship can travel thousands of miles across the sea. It can withstand any storm. From now on, we no longer need to cross deserts to reach other nations. With this ship, we can travel in a short time. Spinoza has agreed to create many such wonders."

Killi Valavan embraced Manimaran.

"I had my doubts about you. But disregarding that, you have done great service to this nation."

That evening, everyone gathered to discuss the next course of action. Manimaran shared his thoughts.

"We must establish good relations with many nations. Through them, we can engage in trade and acquire new ideas. Stability cannot be achieved through economic development alone. A beggar's only concern is hunger. A wealthy person faces many problems.

In Spinoza’s country, leaders are chosen by the people. There is a political constitution on how to conduct governance. This prevents the country from facing major revolutions or upheavals. The people there live in prosperity.

We don’t have to accept this exactly as it is. We shouldn’t disregard the guidance of elders. Instead, for the nation, two councils should be formed together: one council with members chosen by the people, and the other with elders as members. Based on the recommendations of these two councils, the nation’s leader should govern. If the leaders do not govern correctly, the people will change them through elections. This is what guarantees stability. A good example is the nation of Uthopia."

Everyone discussed this thoroughly and agreed. It was decided that more meetings should be held to implement this plan.

Agnideva couldn't sleep that night. Was he supposed to accept everything Manimaran said? Were the paintings he saw in the caves of the Chennai mountains all lies? These thoughts plunged him into deep confusion.

The next morning, at dawn, he mounted his horse and rode to the Chennai mountains. He carefully examined each painting there. One painting depicted a foreign man standing. He looked at it closely.

It was Spinoza.

                                  ——*****——-

The sea bird reached the city of Principia. Everyone there was arrested by Hegel. In prison, he met Stella.

"You should not have come here. You have the potential to be a great ruler in another land. But you should not have come to this land. You will all meet the same fate as your father. In a week's time, you will all be placed in the gallows."

After he left, Ashoka spoke to Stella about Hegel's condition.

"While talking, Hegel coughed several times. He was severely suffering from chest congestion caused by an infection. It is certain that after three days, he will succumb to this condition."

"Can you save Hegel?"

"I have medicines for that, but we need to start the treatment immediately."

Stella informed Hegel through the guard. However, due to his pride, Hegel refused Ashoka’s help. As Ashoka had predicted, Hegel passed away. Until the end, he never asked Stella for help.

The deadly virus that killed Hegel spread throughout the country, and many people died in large numbers. When Ashoka’s medicine was tested on a few patients, their health improved.

With Neidsha's help, the production of the medicine was scaled up, and it was distributed to the entire country. Uthopia quickly recovered from the disease. Stella’s fame grew among the people.

An election was announced in the country, and it was already decided that Stella would win before the election even began.

On the first day of the election, Stella addressed the people of the country.

"My father had great dreams for this country. Had those dreams been realized, this country would have prospered. But the methods he used to fulfill those dreams were wrong. It was wrong for him to try to dismantle democracy. However, the death he suffered because of that is unjust.

While I seek forgiveness on behalf of my father, we must all realize that it is essential to address the flaws of democracy.

If I come to power, any laws that remain unfinished in the Senate will be presented in the People's Assembly. The people, through voting, will either accept or reject these laws.

Support me so that the dreams we all share for this country may come true."

That night, Stella stood alone on the sea bird, with Rousseau by her side.

"The situation has changed here. Go and find your father. Bring him here."

"He has completely changed. He has decided to live as a wanderer. My mother is considering remarriage. My intuition tells me that wherever my father is, he is happy."

"Your father is a great man."

Rousseau, filled with emotion, extended his arms toward the sea as he spoke.

"A man with grand dreams. Not only for this land but his dreams have changed the future of the world. Just as the sea bird stands now, thousands of ships will be built by many countries. And many nations will unite to form one world."

Voltaire, the great man, you will not descend. I know that you will contemplate certain continents that will never be united on this earth.

At this moment, you will be meditating on some unknown land, gazing at the stars of the sky while being intoxicated with thoughts. You, who united the Earth, will now dream of uniting the cosmos—this is certain. Do not let greed take over, Father. Leave some dreams for the generations to come."

Rousseau stood still, lost in thought, holding Stella's hands. The soothing sea breeze embraced them, and the vast sky seemed to admire them as it stretched above.

Tomorrow's dawn will be magnificent. With the belief that the future of this world will be bright, the moon, draped in clouds, quietly slipped away to rest.

                                                    ——******—-