
# **BUTTERFLY'S DREAM**

#

a novel by

## Marian C. Ghilea

#

Copyright © 2018-2020 by Marian C. Ghilea

Cover art & design by Marian C. Ghilea

_All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the copyright holder except for the use of brief quotations in a book review._

_This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and incidents portrayed in it are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or places is entirely coincidental._

_Published by Marian C. Ghilea at Smashwords_

#

_Dedicated to all my dear friends, wherever they are_

_...and to Akiko_

### Ode to the Dragons

White dragon, you inspire me to write.

I love the way you soar, fly, and explore;

When entering my weary thoughts at night,

You make me dream about that splendid shore.

I wanted to compare you to a distant ember,

But you are more mysterious, reserved, and strange.

Mist floats over the seas in late November,

And autumn has the same slight color change.

How do you fill my heart? Let's count the ways:

I love your shiny scales, long tail, and eyes.

Your journeys always set my mind ablaze,

My zest for you is bright, like a sunrise.

In the enchanting light of the blue moon,

Remember to come back to my world soon. 

### Overture

_I am not here to provide answers but to show you some of the questions that define our world. An answer might often be a destination, however, the question is the journey towards it. Go on, embark on the journey, and discover the destination yourself._

**Elessyos of Miletus (c. 615 — c. 520 BC)**

_Here it is, the Universe everywhere around you and inside you, with no manual, no instructions for use. Now, what are you going to do? If the **overture** describing the beginning looks too complicated, go to the **prologue** of its evolution. If even that seems too slow for your eyes, move to **alpha** and continue through the whole alphabet until **omega** looms above you, for time is circular, and you can always come back. _

**Seraphios (c. 605 — c. 513 BC) — Dialogues at the Edge of Time**

* * *

Beginning.

Breathe in.

To be.

Being.

Light.

Thinking.

Concepts.

Breathe out.

Breathing.

Breathing again, in and out.

Ideas. Words. Communication.

Breathe in, breathe out. Start the transmission of data.

I don't remember being born. I doubt anyone does. Still, fuzzy, distant memories from the beginning of my existence are stored somewhere, deep inside my brain. Most of the time these memories stay hidden, but every once in a while they surface to my conscious side, haunting my thoughts.

When I became part of this world as an identifiable entity, I was little more than a pack of instincts and incompletely developed organs. Not fully separated from its virtual state, my mind was taking shape out of nothingness and transforming into something-ness...

At some point, the local fabric of space-time began to suffer dynamic changes, like the surface of an ocean during a powerful storm. Lines of universe were splitting into thin filaments. Fragments of void were evolving into dots. Dots were transforming into circles. Circles were growing into spheres. Spheres were expanding to four-dimensional spheres.

The transformation continued at an accelerated pace. The expansion became faster and faster until it reached a predefined boundary. Then it stopped. Here I began orbiting around a sphere of energy, remaining in a metastable equilibrium. Growing turned into sending. Sending developed into receiving. Receiving a body, a mind. Acquiring senses to perceive the world...

As soon as my senses came to life, I could see, I could hear, I could smell, I could touch, I could taste. I could interact with far-away objects and with objects within my reach. The surrounding Universe became alive with shapes and colors, like a giant benevolent dragon who breathed in unison with me. From that moment on, time began to pour restlessly from outside - into my mind, and from inside - out of my body.

Events after events started to flow around me and through me. The months and years piled up, mirroring my continuous development, my slow but incessant change. I was transformed, programmed by other beings to communicate, to learn, and to use my newly discovered creative powers. However, my first clear feelings of self-awareness came only after I had spent several years in this new form, when I was already becoming entirely human.

Being alive. Existing. Manifesting in this material space and time. Being guided...

Soon after our existences begin, those who have descended into this realm of manifestations before us are the individuals who set our newly born minds and memories onto the trajectories of their choice. They were shaped, in turn, by those who arrived before them, who were themselves modeled by their predecessors, and so on, with this chain of cause and effect continuing towards the distant past for a tremendous number of generations.

In our initial years of life, we are always a reflection of the others, a combination of them in various proportions, especially a mixture of our parents' characteristics while being raised by them, as it happens in most instances. Only when our age reaches more than a decade, we really do begin to expand our minds and take a path of our own. Yet, this personal path is rarely different from the one imprinted into our brains at the beginning of our existence. We could call this factor "civilization conditioning"; and we shall never be completely free from it.

Hence, our freedom of expression and evolution is only apparent. Our progress is always limited by our roots, by the foundation of our society. At the most basic level of awareness and reasoning, we can never reprogram ourselves differently. If something totally unexpected comes at us, if we are suddenly thrown into a universe entirely different from the one where we grew up, it's quite likely we shall perceive this new place only from our own subjective cultural perspective.

And so, a question arises from these facts: Who are we? Of course, it can be followed by many others, such as: Where do we come from? Where shall our journeys take us when our lives end? How much of what we are is ourselves? Why are we ourselves and not others? Why are we stuck inside a single body and have to live a particular, unique existence?

Answers to such inquiries don't come easy, if at all. But do we actually need them? And then, what happens if somehow these heavy chains of civilization conditioning break into pieces and set us free?

Let's take a step ahead and see what follows. Open that door, please. Yes, that door on the left. Press the handle gently and walk inside. Take the path that awaits you on the other side and let that universe unfold around your life in its majestic, unpredictable way.

There are no promises for answers, but perhaps at the end of the journey you will see yourself and your reflections from an entirely different angle...

And if the mirrors can't be found right away, don't worry, they will bloom in front of you sooner or later. Mirror after mirror after mirror is going to swipe your face until you won't know anymore which one is your reflection and which one is your true self.

A mirror reflecting itself. What would it show?

♣

The pleasant rays of the autumnal Sun are sieving in through the circular window buried in the blue-painted ceiling like drops from a delicate celestial waterfall. They fill the room with a golden, relaxing light. Prints of buildings, landscapes, or portraits, all placed neatly in thin frames, cover the gray-plastered walls everywhere I look. Sounds of steps and conversations in low tones resonate and combine in frequencies that are overlapping around my stiff, standing body. People are coming in or moving out towards the other rooms of the art gallery. An incessant, continuous flow of costumes, dresses, and voices.

Why am I here? What am I doing in this place? Where is this place located, anyway? I feel as if I have been suddenly planted, like a sapling, at the edge of this hall, as if I have just materialized out of the void onto this spot.

Some seconds later, fuzzy memories come back, slapping my brain with a vigorous gentleness. I remember the announcement about the exhibition. I read it the other day in a newspaper. It was about a rare and extensive Escher collection, almost all his masterpieces in one place, open to the public from my city for a full month. And here I am, in front of this lithograph from 1956, named _Print Gallery_.

The flow of people continues unabated left and right, forward and backward. It's a never-ending swirl of footsteps and voices. Visitors pause for a few moments in front of a framed image, then move, almost in haste, to the next. I keep looking at _Print Gallery_ , hypnotized by its unusual composition. My eyes remain glued to the man displayed there. The man is gazing at the works filling a long passageway. Through an insane twist of space, the framed image in front of him expands, enclosing the room, the building, the whole Universe. Unperturbed, he stares at the print he has become a part of. And now I am that man, and I'm looking at the print from the print, and I have become part of this print myself.

"What do you think of this work? It looks intriguing, doesn't it?" strikes a voice at my right.

Pulled out of my dazzling vision, I slowly turn my head and find a slender, middle-aged man of medium height standing next to me. He is wearing in a dark-orange robe, his head is neatly shaved, and he's got a peaceful smile on his face. A Buddhist monk. Well, why wouldn't a monk be interested in art, too? However, my instinct tells me he isn't here by chance. His question sounds beyond casual, it must have a deeper meaning.

So, I do my best to articulate my thoughts as clearly as I can:

"I have to agree, I'm fascinated by it," I reply in a low tone. "The image seems to blur the distinction between what's inside and what's outside someone's body."

His gray eyes look at me intensely, as if they could drill through my skull and read my thoughts. Yet, there is a peace and a friendliness in them that could only come from someone who has reached a high spiritual level. This monk is someone who apparently wants to help me with something. But with what? And why?

My memory still has gaps. I can't recall clearly the past few days or, as a matter of fact, anything preceding this moment. I don't remember how I've got into this room and in front of this print. Perhaps this stranger has come to help me figure out what's going on.

"You're right," the monk says. "Escher has caught brilliantly the fact that the ego is an illusion, that what's inside our head cannot be fully separated from what's outside our skin. Not that he was the first to do so. However, he has shown it in an intuitive and easy to understand manner."

I feel like in a classroom where I'm a student and he is the teacher. As soon as the stranger goes quiet, an idea begins to germinate at the back of my brain. It looks like the whole scene is happening in a dream, like I have dreamed of it before. The whole situation and the whole dialog seem somewhat rehearsed, artificial, as if we were two mediocre actors playing their roles on an invisible stage.

I say:

"My memory is kind of blurry. I can't clearly remember what's happened to me recently. I've got the impression you aren't here by chance. Have you come to help me; to guide me somewhere?"

The monk stares straight into my eyes, with a serious expression. He nods in silence. Time seems to flow slower now. The air has become somewhat viscous and heavy.

I breathe deeply to calm my mind, then turn my head back towards the artwork. It's still there, unchanged, as it was when I stopped in front of it. Yet, something else, hard to define, is different now. I don't know where my past is rooted, but I'm somehow aware of where my future lies. As if everything has suddenly begun to flow in the opposite direction, from the future towards the past. Without being aware of how this information has filled my thoughts, I know there's a path in front of me, a path onto which I have to step soon. Very soon, probably in less than a minute.

We both continue to gaze at the print, like we're holding a vigil in front of it. I feel as if Maurits Cornelis Escher himself is standing now behind us, staring intently at his own creation. But why am I going through this strange scenario? What are these preparations for? What kind of trip is waiting for me? Or, perhaps, it has already begun?

"I wanted to make sure you're taking the proper path," says, in the end, the stranger in the dark-orange robe, breaking the silence. "Your journey is going to begin here, right in front of this work of art. Don't strain yourself too hard to understand everything at once. Understanding will come eventually, gradually, in time."

"Who are you, really?" I ask, turning my head towards him.

I plan to follow up with a few more questions, but the monk is gone. He vanished into the air. Startled by his surprising disappearance, I turn my eyes back to the strangely distorted landscape from the frame in front of me. And again, I am the man from the print, looking at the print. Space is curling around me, wrapping my body like a dark veil. When I turn my head once more towards the hall, I feel I'm both inside and outside the frame. It is a most unusual sensation, and it makes me dizzy.

I think I'm going to faint and prepare to meet the unfriendly, hard marble floor in my fall. Yet, my knees somehow manage to stay steady. The art gallery is fading away. A few seconds later, I suddenly get comfortable, lying in a bed placed under a domed ceiling. The new room is bathed in diffuse blue light. A pleasant, refreshing blue.

"Let the story begin!" commands a man's voice.

I fail to see its owner. The room looks empty.

"Let it begin! _Bon voyage, mon ami_!" replies an invisible chorus. A flash of light envelops me for a split-second. Then I seem to materialize in a different location.

The bed and the empty room are gone. I'm aware of floating inside a liquid bubble, but my eyes are immediately closing by themselves with overwhelming strength. Powerless to react in any way, I'm falling into a deep dormant state. For a short time, I can still hear voices speaking loud and clear inside my brain:

Black! I think he is sufficiently relaxed.

Gray! His body and mind are adjusting to the intermediary environment.

Red! Gradually increase the output up to half.

Orange! The readings of his body parameters are normal.

Yellow! Open the gate towards the new environment.

Green! Continue to increase the output all the way to the maximum.

Blue! The gate towards the new environment is active.

Purple! Disconnect the primary environment.

Crimson! Separate him from the intermediary environment.

Violet! Stand by for ignition.

White! Ignition and lift off! He has crossed to the other side!

### Prologue

_I cannot prevent myself from wondering about the new generations that shall sprout into this world, millennia from now. What shall they think of us? Shall they see our accomplishments as simple and primitive? Shall they portray us as uneducated barbarians? Shall our beliefs seem to them just unsophisticated superstitions? Yet, are these things going to matter in the end? And, ultimately, is there any end at all? What if the flow of time is only an illusion generated by our own minds?_

**Elessyos of Miletus**

_We are tempted to see our existence as composed of a single reality. This reality flows from the immutable past to the fluid future through a present thinner than a knife-edge. The general view is that only inside this almost infinitely thin present do we actually live, act, and are being acted on. However, our lives are operating in a more complex physical world._

__

_The space-time that surrounds us can be better described as a network of possible realities, entangled and intertwined like the threads of many yarn balls thrown away in random directions from the singularity that gave birth to our Universe. In certain locations of this amazingly complex multidimensional maze, the notions of past, future, or present lose their meanings and are sometimes interchangeable while the almost infinitely thin present can expand significantly. In other words, it can be said that when we are not happy with the future, we can change the past._

**Kai Ishida, a precursor of the New Physics**

* * *

_Nothingness_ said to _Somethingness_ : "There is no universe right now, no space no time, nothing to separate the whole from its parts or to distinguish between inside and outside. Even you don't exist, except in my imagination. So, let's change this state of things and build a beginning from where to spin a new story."

_Somethingness_ replied: "As soon as this thought came to your mind, you became me, and now it's you who doesn't exist anymore. No problem, I shall do what you have asked for, what I had asked for."

Hence, non-action became action and non-being became being. From being, a beginning was born.

♣

In the beginning was the sound, and the sound was without form, and the sound was reigning supreme over the endless water. The sound became stronger, generated vibrations, and expanded until it reached the water's surface. Its touch changed the water, bringing into existence tiny ripples of resonance that spread in all directions. Soon, the ripples multiplied, grew, and evolved. They became permanent, stable shapes. With them arrived new concepts, such as structure, complexity, and thought.

In the beginning, space was the only thing alive. Unbounded, undefined, unmeasurable. Space stretched, bent, and twisted until it closed onto itself. It rendered discontinuities that brought matter into existence as mass and energy, its two complementary sides. Then, from the random vibrations of the matter manifested as energy, the sound came into being.

In the beginning there was no beginning because there was no time and space. From it, from the singularity that did not exist and cannot be described, time and space appeared. Then, from time and space, everything else came forth. Everything is one, and one is everything.

In the beginning that did not exist, beyond anything the thought can conceive, beyond any beyond, in that beginning with no beginning, He was. Hence, everything started from Him and with Him. Yet "He" is only a name but not the real "Him". The finger that points to the Moon is not the Moon. It's just a finger.

And so, the flow of a story commences, entangled between pasts and futures, twisted by ripples of reality and illusion, washed by the incessantly changing waves of space and time. This flow starts shyly, more like a whisper, like a tiny mountain stream hidden under deep layers of ice and snow. However, it soon begins to grow, becoming a wide river with deep waters that pour unstoppably into the sea after a long and precipitous journey.

The sea itself is full of life and in continuous transformation. Its restless waters are periodically pulled towards the sky by the heat from the Sun's rays, becoming clouds and returning, as rain, to the source. When this happens, the cycle is complete. The story folds over itself, returning to the origin.

In the beginning was the end...
__

_  
_

__

_  
_

_A path is made by people walking on it._

**Chuang Tzu (c. 369 — c. 286 BC)**

## Part 1:

## Triangulum with Three Flashes of Lightning

### The thoughts of Alberto Shimada, the second lieutenant of _Excelsior_

_"If you could be someone else, who would you like to become?"_

_"I think I'd like to change back into myself. As of late, I often sense that my life is confined to the shadow of someone else's dreams."_

_"Yet, being yourself can often be a challenge. I don't even understand well what this means. Can you define the idea of self? Can you explain what the self is?"_

_"You have just asked me about imagining being someone else, and now you're saying you don't fathom the idea of self? Why has everything to be so confusing? I, the person here, thinking and talking, the one who is within this body should be me, the ego, the self."_

_"Then, if the one within your body, seeing, hearing, talking, thinking is you, how can you say you're under the impression of being someone else?"_

_"I might have been myself in the past, but at night, soon after I go to bed and fall asleep, I dream of other worlds and people. And sometimes, more often than I wish, I dream of being a different person. Then, when I wake up from my dream the next morning, how can I trust I'm still the same as the one who went to sleep? Furthermore, if I've got lost along the way and someone else is here in my stead, where am I now?"_

_"How can you know you're not the same person? Anyone who has a mind and a heart, and sees and hears, and feels and talks within your body has to be you. It doesn't matter whether you sense or not that you have a certain name and age and status. When you dream you are someone else, it is still you the one who sleeps and lives the other life in the realms of Morpheus. On those lands of phantasy, you can be more than a mere human, you can expand your self. Why should you limit your own perception and existence to the willow shell that is your body?"_

_"Yet, is it really me the one who wakes up in the morning? How can I know? How can I be sure the life from my dream is not the real life? Maybe I'm dreaming now, and everything around me is only an illusion. Yet, I still feel that between dream and reality, between the one who dreams and the one who is dreamed of, there has to be a subtle difference. Nonetheless, dream and reality look now like two mirrors reflecting each other. Or even better said: like a single mirror reflecting itself. How can I tell which one is the mirror and which one is the reflection?"_

_"You really wish to find out which one is your true self? Then, in silence, you have to shut down the doors and windows connecting your mind and soul to the outside world. Light, sound, heat, or cold should not bother you anymore. Then you can listen to what your heart is telling you. When you can hear your heart, you are the mirror, when you can't, you are the reflection. Yet, don't forget: sometimes the mirrors can break! When this happens, you will see that the ego itself is an illusion, an illusion within an illusion. And when you reach this level of understanding, you can become anyone you like."_

**Seraphios — Dialogues at the Edge of Time**

* * *

A wet wind is blowing onto my face, cool and refreshing. From the rhythmic splashing sounds of the foamy waves, echoes are sprouting, ethereal and impermanent. Their music is pouring inside my ears like a delicate whisper.

My lungs are slowly moving up and down: a pair of wings, breathing in and out the glorious dance of the atoms that make up the air of my world. At this moment, the whole Universe is breathing in and out with me. In and out, inside and outside. From the slow beats of my heart to the Moon, the Sun, and beyond, there is no real distance anymore.

Soon, the flow of time reveals itself to be as illusory as the manifestation of space. Then, this inner mounting flame is pushing open my eyelids. The light from outside pours in, filling my soul with eternity. Each breath feels now like a new birth of myself, like a cyclic return into existence. Everything is one, and one is everything.

Too many ideas and concepts are already roaming wild through my mind. Too many thoughts are flooding my perception. Some are familiar, but other seem to come from far away, as if they belonged to total strangers, mirroring me and mirroring themselves. Something doesn't seem quite right. Have I been somewhere else before? Or, perhaps, have I been someone else before?

_In the beginning was the light. Can we go back to the beginning, can we return to what we used to be and become as pure as the light again?_

♣

The sound of water...

Mother Nature has put on golden colors, everywhere in and around the city. But the metropolis, as well as the continent, were left behind two days ago. Now only the Ocean, an endless expanse of blue-green restless liquid with a salty scent, is stretching all the way to the horizon, wherever I look.

Standing on the deck of our fast brig, I can sense it's autumn even here. Something hard to define makes me think of falling leaves. Is it the scent of the sea? Or could it be the fragrance of the wind? I turn my eyes up. A flock of fluffy clouds is towering high above the ship's masts as if they were watching us. From the east, a pale, almost sick-looking Sun is shooting shy arrows of light.

The breeze blowing from the stern is pushing us with constant speed towards our destination. The tall prow is cutting the waves with a slow rocking motion that generates a tender and periodic hissing sound. Here I am, on this beautiful morning of October 13, 1794, taking care of the weather observations and supervising the duty shifts of the crew.

Our vessel is sailing towards the Southern Islands, transporting weapons and ammunition. In addition to this, we've got a squadron of thirty soldiers as passengers. The soldiers are going to replace the current garrison in charge of the fort built there more than a century ago. These three tiny islands from the Tropics are in fact locations of significant strategic importance. They oversee the main routes of an increasing number of ships that travel from our country towards exotic and commercially profitable shores from the Southern Hemisphere. My second mission in such far-away waters has just begun.

The hours pass quietly. While I'm filling my logbook with notes, the wind is pushing our vessel with a speed of seven knots. If the weather stays the same, I should expect _Excelsior_ to reach her destination in about eight days. However, when I check the horizon with my handheld telescope in the afternoon, I notice dark clouds gathering far away to the south-east. They're spread over a large area and are set to cross our path. Changing the course to avoid bad weather could mean arriving at least one day late. We are most likely going to run into a storm during the first hours of the evening.

The captain is in his cabin. I inform him immediately about the oncoming storm. We both go to the deck and begin the preparations for the soon-to-be unpleasant encounter. The captain wants to minimize any delay caused by the elements. He plans to take advantage of the cyclone, using it to shorten the journey to the Southern Islands by about one day. He also wants to test the efficiency of the crew. We have many new hands on the ship, and the storm is a good opportunity to check their skills.

The vessel changes course to south-south-west. With no lee shore anywhere near our route, we plan to partially skirt the storm, taking opportunity of the strong winds blowing towards south on the west side of the cyclone. _Excelsior_ will keep sailing at full speed, gradually reefing her sails as the wind gets stronger. Hence, many sails will stay up and running almost until the elements are ready to strike. Our crew is large enough to take care of them in time.

Late in the afternoon, dark-gray clouds begin to fill the sky. The ocean becomes agitated and foamy. It feels like legions of malefic spirits are dancing on top of the ominous white waves in their preparation to ram hard into our ship's hull and do as much damage as they can. Some sails are still up, although many are reefed now. They're pulling _Excelsior_ south with a speed of about eleven knots. The daylight is fading. The celestial tanks hanging above us are ready to explode and flood our vessel with a torrent of rain.

♣

The first drops fall one hour before sunset. Initially, just a few, then a hard downpour floods the deck. Every few seconds, electrical discharges cut deep irregular lines across the dark-crimson sky. Thunders follow immediately after the flashes, loud like cannon shots. The ocean has turned nasty, set to bury our ship in its liquid hell. The wind gradually transforms into a gale. Many crewmen are working in a hurry to finish stowing the higher sails and stroking the lower ones. In exchange, a dozen hands are unfurling a single storm fore-topsail to maintain the ship's direction under the strong wind.

In spite of doing my best to make myself useful wherever I can, I'm barely moving back and forth along the deck. My legs are wading through a continuous stream of water, sometimes ankle-deep. My boots are slipping on the wet planks every few steps. I have to hold tightly onto backstays, shrouds, hawsers, gunwale, or anything else that has some local stability and can be grabbed by my cold and tired hands. Everyone else exposed to the elements is in the same situation as me.

While gazing up for a moment, I find out that the fore topmast and fore topgallant sails haven't been properly stowed. This is obviously the work of less experienced hands. The crewmen are still up there, dark shapes against intermittent flashes of light. Standing on the footropes, the poor lads are trying to fix their mistakes as fast as possible. However, the wind is getting harsher by the minute, and they are having difficulties finishing their job.

With my vision blurred by gale and rain, I continue to supervise from the deck the sailors' work. Soon, I notice two young crewmen near the main topgallant platform, working alone and having a lot of trouble untying the gaskets from the jackstay before stowing the topgallant sail. They are almost done with the starboard and are pushing hard to get quickly to the port side. Suddenly, the sailors stop and look upwards, visibly frightened. Above them, a diffuse green light surrounds the top of the mast and the edges of the royal's yard.

This is a most unusual phenomenon. I want to examine it at a closer distance. Directed by the first lieutenant, all hands around me are busy now with several urgent issues. Finishing unfurling the storm fore-topsail is one of them. The canvas hasn't expanded in the wind, and the sailors involved in the operation are moving frantically to fix its orientation. That's why the captain wanted to test the new hands. This storm is the best exam he could find for them. The crew doesn't need me on the deck anymore, so I decide to climb up the mainmast to investigate the unusual light. I'll also use this opportunity to double-check how the upper sails are stowed.

Reaching the topgallant platform in this weather is a real challenge. I'm tossed back and forth by the powerful shakes of the ship's hull, like a rag doll. The high-amplitude rolling makes me hold the rigging tightly to prevent being thrown overboard. My boots are not so great for a good foothold on the ratlines, but they'll have to do. I feel as if I were tied to a giant metronome. A metronome that moves in fierce harmony with this deafening symphony of wind and water.

Soon I arrive near the top, grab the futtock shrouds, and climb onto the narrow platform. I can see the scared faces of the crewmen within an arm's length. They are just getting done stowing the sail. Everything I can glimpse around me dances chaotically under flashes of lightning. I take hold of the yard and step onto the footrope, double-checking their work and ignoring the glow from above.

"Looks fine! You may go back on the deck now!" I shout as loud as I can.

The youngsters seem to understand my words and slide down along the wet rigging. The rain continues to pour from above like a cold waterfall. I feel already giddy from the slow but powerful rolling motion of _Excelsior_ dancing on top of the waves, yet I manage to control my nausea without having to throw up. Anyway, my location is too high, too precarious to allow myself such weaknesses. I suppose "throw down" would be more appropriate, given the circumstances. Although, given the wind's intensity, this wouldn't be entirely true, either.

I'm doing a final check of the knots. They look tight. The light surrounding the top of the mast is generating a tingling sensation on the crown of my head. I have climbed all the way here to investigate it, so I'm stepping higher on the ratlines, closer to the mysterious glow.

Down on the deck, four or five crewmen who have just finished stowing other sails and got a few moments to breathe, are looking in my direction, gesticulating and shouting something. With the ubiquitous roar of the storm, I can't make out their words, but I assume the sentence repeated continuously has to be "St. Elmo's fire!". However, from what I read in books or heard from the stories of a few sailors, I don't remember St. Elmo's fire appearing above a ship while it's raining so heavily. In addition to this, people who saw it described its color like blue or violet, not green. Furthermore, why is it not pushed away by wind and rain? Something is different here. As I continue to climb closer to it, the tingling sensation on the crown of my head grows stronger.

Right at that moment, a flash of lightning strikes the top of the mast with an ear-shattering noise. I can feel its tremendous power through a wave of pain. The flame from above wraps tightly around me. Its surge of electricity passes through my skin, flesh, and bones. A taste of metal fills my mouth a moment later. My heart seems to stop for a moment, then resumes its hurried beating. My eardrums hurt from the violent bang. For a few long seconds, my muscles are twitching in uncontrollable spasms. Then numbness fills up my body. I'm trying to grab the cordage near me, but I'm not successful. My hands and feet are slipping off the ropes. I'm starting to fall towards the deck, slowly, like in a dream.

Sailing ships are rarely struck by lightning, yet this can still happen every once in a while. And this time I happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time. You can call it extreme bad luck. Here it is, all mine to enjoy.

While sliding down, I notice how everything has become quiet all of a sudden. The whipping of the wind has ceased. Large, almost spherical beads of water dripping from the yards are floating around me, descending in slow motion towards the deck. The waves around the ship look like unfinished glass sculptures, reflecting the yellow-blue light of several frozen lightning flashes. Black clouds are hanging above, like a giant carpet spread all the way to the horizon.

From up here, the ship's frame looks like a fragile leaf tossed into a fuzzy maze of foamy water crests. My field of vision narrows like a tunnel, closing to a dot as colors turn grayscale. The seascape surrounding me disappears, with the flow of time slowing down even more. The green halo of light expands and swallows me. I'm floating now, weightless, in the air. Wrapped in silence, I find myself in the middle of a different scenery, in another space and time.

It's dark. It's quiet. It's comfortable. The pain is gone.

Soft shadows are shrouding me like a silk robe. A night view is unfolding before my eyes. There is a man in front of me, watching the night lights of a city. Seconds later, he walks away from them, stepping onto a narrow path bordered by oaks and maples. At the same time, I'm him and I'm myself, observing the scene from a short distance. My senses have become distorted. It seems what I'm experiencing now is happening inside this flash of light.

_Like a mirror reflecting itself... What would it show?_

### Flash One:

### Cassiopeia

The late-night sky looked unfriendly, even threatening. It floated, like a mantle, above the dense foliage that surrounded the river. Despite the dark-green carpet of grass that was caressing his feet, it was actually cold, close to freezing. He had decided to spend the night here, in the tent. Away from the city's noise, without a radio or a phone.

A full moon painted in the color of blood was rising above the pine-covered mountains. His gaze focused on it for a moment, then moved higher until it reached the trembling lights of the five stars that sketched the big "W" shape of Cassiopeia. A faint grin came across his face as he recognized the familiar constellation. The man stretched his arms to the sides like a pair of wings, imagining he could soar all the way up to the edge of Space.

He already had set up the tent, right before sunset. The weariness brought on by a long and tiring day was slowly sinking in, taking control of his body. He glanced at the sky one more time, then disappeared inside the canvas dome. The sleeping bag swallowed him like at once, like a cocoon. Soon, a heavy slumber enveloped his thoughts in a halo of dreams. The dreams took control of his mind, coming and going in fuzzy whirlpools of colors and shapes. With them came a feeling that someone from a different space and time was watching him.

♣

The sound of the stream flowing a few paces away became louder. Frequent splashes in the shallow waves were interrupting its flow. He woke up.

"Must be a boar looking for roots and seeds on this side," the man thought. He reached for the lantern and sneaked out of the tent, light off. A few quiet steps got him to the water's edge. No boar was there.

The stream glistened in the moonlight, alien and uninviting. Dark shapes were moving along it, marching or swimming upstream in parallel lines: hundreds and hundreds of fish-like creatures with long tails and lizard legs.

He turned on the lantern. The other bank had changed. Trees shaped like baobabs filled the opposing slope, their red leaves reflecting the light of an invisible moon. The sky looked alien that way, too, with the spiral arms of an immense galaxy spread over it. Oblivious to his presence and ignoring the lantern beam, the creatures kept going on with their journey.

Bluish sparks glistening in midair marked the boundary between his world and the other reality. Looking upwards, he saw the border extending across the sky: a giant half-circle, dividing the Universe in two. Above him, the same familiar stars were still shining. Wait, there was something different, something weird high above, in the Cassiopeia constellation. Right on top of the "W" shape and a little to the right, a new luminous dot was blazing, about as bright as Venus.

_No, this can't be true_ , he thought. His decent knowledge of astronomy reminded him of the supernova discovered and studied in detail by Tycho Brahe in 1572. Had he somehow slid back in time? Nonetheless, the landscape on this bank looked the same. Then what about the city? Of course, the city was too far away, and he had no means to make sure it was still there.

A breeze carrying warm air from the other bank blew onto his face. He noticed a movement on his left and felt a light touch on his shoulder. Something shaped like a butterfly had landed on the dark fabric of his jacket. An insect the size of a sparrow, with a blue body and wings covered in black and red patterns.

Time was slowly pouring into the night, its speed measured by the cadence of the creatures moving along the river bed. Time itself felt like a river streaming above the valley where the procession was taking place. Piece by piece, it was engulfing the watercourse and the scenery surrounding it. Now he could also hear drums in the distance. He felt the desire to cross the boundary grow stronger, like a rose spreading its petals in the morning sunlight.

The alien butterfly was still resting motionless on his shoulder, like a delicate decoration. He decided to leave it alone, refraining from touching the fragile-looking wings. After moments that seemed to last an eternity, his feet moved forward. A gentle electric discharge came through his fingertips when his right hand touched the border between worlds. The loop of eternity shattered. The alien scenery faded away. Everything came back to the familiar configuration. High up in the sky, the bright star from Cassiopeia was no more.

The experience had lasted only two or three minutes. Had it been just a dream? Yet, when he turned his head, the man found the alien insect still clinging to his garment. Affected by the cold temperature of the night, it fell off his shoulder and died in his hands moments later. With utmost care, the man took the insect and placed it inside an empty jar.

_Poor butterfly! What were you dreaming about when you crossed into my world? Why did your flight have to end like this? I'm so sorry for your lost life! Caught in this strange chain of events, are you even real? Maybe I'm actually deep asleep now, dreaming of alien worlds and butterflies?_

He returned to his shelter and curled back inside the sleeping bag, looking now like a chrysalis himself.

♣

Early morning, the Sun launched a dazzling assault against the shadows enfolding the river's bank. Without mercy, its rays filled the interior of his canvas dome with bright golden light. They pierced his closed eyelids with a thousand needles, blinding him painfully in his sleep. He woke up dizzy and with his vision blurred by tears. A small clock next to his open backpack was displaying _6:07_.

_It's time to head back_ , he thought, yawning and stretching his arms and legs.

The last night's adventure felt now like the memory of a dream. However, the jar enclosing the fragile body of the alien butterfly was still there, a stark reminder of what had happened during the night.

He folded up the tent in silence, squeezed everything into his backpack, and stepped onto the narrow gravel-covered path that linked the river bank to the city. The landscape soon changed. Trees, meadow, and river vanished behind, replaced by asphalt, concrete, and glass wrapped in the omnipresent noise of the modern civilization.

Later, in his living room, he heard the news on TV while preparing to go to work:

"... unusually high tides were observed in several coastal locations. No earthquakes that could generate a tsunami were recorded, so most scientists believe this could be related to a massive invisible object passing in the close vicinity of Earth. This mysterious object could, in principle, be a black hole of microscopic size, or perhaps an energy burst emerging from a wormhole connected to a distant source. However, none of the theories so far suggested can satisfactorily explain the mysterious tides. More investigations are needed to come up with a good model of the encountered phenomena. Several fishing boats also reported that..."

He reached for the remote to increase the volume...
...and now, without warning, I wake up high above the deck of a ship. I'm floating in dark silence, dizzy, in pain, and unsure about who I am anymore. Too many images and words are trying to fill my head, all at once. Have I just experienced something from the distant future? The technology there was way more advanced than today: a city with very tall buildings, horseless carts with engines that didn't use steam, a bright bulb that switches on and of with a touch, a clock with numbers that display even the seconds... And on top of that, the luminous screen with the power to bring in images and sounds from far away...

I'm still adrift near the mast, descending with an agonizing slowness towards the partly flooded deck. While going through this unusual experience of living someone else's life, I have actually barely moved downwards in my fall. My right foot is now entangled in a hawser, and I seem to hang upside down in the dark, like a giant bat.

Then the time flow speeds up once more. The storm's roar, the wind's whip, and the rain's cold downpour are hitting me again vigorously, all at once. While the ship's rolling on the furious waves jolts my bones, my left hand finally manages to get hold of another wet rope. Pulling hard the cordage with both arms, I switch back into an upright position. My feet are resting now on the ratlines. I'm leaning against the shrouds, holding them tightly.

Memories are turning the other way around, like the limbs of an old clock ahead of time adjusted by the clock master. That's right, I'm the second lieutenant of this ship. I look up, towards the green halo of light still surrounding the top of the mast, just in time to see another lightning striking it with tremendous power. A new wave of electricity and pain shakes my body, soon replaced by the familiar numbness. The flow of time is slowing down anew. The same fluffy light engulfs me again.

I'm violently thrown into another world, into a different space and time. Is this place real, or is it only a fantasy imprisoned inside the deepest layers of my mind? Am I sliding into it from the material world in which I live? Or perhaps I'm coming back to reality from a dream where I was traveling across the sea aboard a brig named _Excelsior_? Which one is real, which one is the delusion?

Apparently, I have become someone else, too.

_If one could hear the moonlight touching a window, what kind of sound would it make?_

### Flash Two:

### The Attic Looking Glass

The night is falling, spreading gloomy shadows across the horizon marked by mountain ridges. I'm standing at the window, with my eyes resting on the faraway peaks basking in the crimson colors of the sunset. Soon, the familiar landscape on the other side of this sheet of glass is going to turn again into something else, into something beyond my rational understanding.

While the sky is sinking into twilight, my thoughts are drifting, reflecting lights and shadows from my past. Another pair of eyes seems to be watching me from behind: my eyes. It feels like living two parallel existences at the same time. I'm here, but also in a remote location, sailing over stormy waves. I can even experience for a moment the salty smell of seawater. How can my body be simultaneously in two different places? Then, as quickly as it came, the strange sensation of being connected with another person and place fades away.

♣

Swimming inside fuzzy memories of my childhood, I pick up self-reflections from old times. They gradually turn into the outline of a kid fascinated by the nebulous realms hidden inside Earth's crust.

Back then, I would often spend long hours searching for caves, my feet quietly drifting below ridges wrapped in evergreen forests. Some of these underground chambers were only a few steps deep, others extended for dozens of meters, dug in limestone by streams coming from rains, or hatched by the melting of snow in the spring. The never-resting water was the invisible architect for them all.

Behind shadows of slopes filled with whispering leaves, the caves were waiting. Looking for them, I would often have to climb dangerous rocks covered in moss and hidden by pines with roots digging deep in the gray stone. Then, suddenly, a new opening towards the dark underworld would unravel in front of my eyes.

At that moment, I would switch on the pale light of my electric torch and venture inside. In most instances, I could move ahead only by crouching and crawling, as the galleries were too narrow to walk upright. I was too old to believe in treasures and trolls but always felt a sense of wonder when diving into these new realms previously unseen by human eyes. Every such undertaking felt like a short plunge into a different space and time.

And so, in one of these little expeditions, while investigating a newly found cave, I reached a vaulted chamber where my beam of light revealed a shiny thing lying on the floor. This object had a regular geometrical shape and appeared to be man-made. A closer inspection and quick cleaning of the mud layer that surrounded it revealed a transparent cube about six centimeters in size.

The cube could be easily mistaken for a block of ordinary glass. However, a detailed inspection of its interior revealed rows of dots arranged into unusual patterns that followed a somewhat repetitive geometry. I put the object inside my pocket and checked the rest of the cave. Yet, besides the crystal, I couldn't find anything else out of the ordinary: just the usual walls made of limestone.

Coming out of the cavern, I held the square block in my palm and admired it in the warm rays of the Sun. White light quickly filled the cube until it turned opaque. One or two minutes later, the crystal began broadcasting the light back, like an electric bulb. My mouth opened in astonishment. I had never seen anything like that before. I slipped the cube back into my pocket and hurried home.

In the next couple of days, I went around with the newly found item, asking friends and neighbors about the possible origin of the cube, but no one had heard about it or the cave. At first, they would stare with fascination at the crystal. Then they would shrug and go back to what they were doing. When the behavior of an object is too strange for our rational understanding, our mind usually ignores it. It immediately returns to its everyday activities as if nothing unusual has ever happened. It's a self-protection mechanism for the brain.

Another week passed. I decided to return to the cave and explore its interior in more detail. I grabbed my backpack and trekked all the distance to the big rock where I had previously found it. Although I was convinced I memorized the site correctly, I could not spot the cavern's entrance anymore. Three hours later, when the Sun was already setting, I gave up. The cave was gone.

That summer, I explored twice more the area but still couldn't find the cave's entrance. Not then and not in the following years. Not ever.

The cube could be from the War time, but it could also come from an earlier period, even from Antiquity. I remember illuminating the crystal with various lanterns, looking for something unusual, expecting to see a message or an image hidden deep inside the transparent material. Every time I did this, the little block gradually filled with light in almost the same way the water from a glass mixes up little by little with a drop of ink that has fallen into it. Bright filaments of different colors would begin to grow and fuse, expanding until the crystal looked like an LED bulb. Then, when I switched off the incoming beam, the cube would slowly lose its blaze and return to its initial state.

As the weeks passed, my initial enthusiasm faded away. I didn't discover new laws of physics. My experiments didn't reveal a hidden message. No practical use of the crystal ever emerged. With the hope to unlock its secrets someday, I stopped showing it around. The cube became my little secret.

Trying to learn how the cube worked, I spent most of my free time reading all the books I could find about optics. Unfortunately, none of them gave me a satisfactory explanation. All the knowledge of our world could not help me understand what was going on inside the crystal.

♣

The years floated like clouds, pushed away by the gentle winds of change. My interest in the cube faded to a fuzzy dot, lost among the memories of my younger age. One day, the brown walls of a large cardboard box enclosed the crystal, together with some toys, books, photos, and souvenirs. They also swallowed my childhood and its bold dreams. Only a trace of this unusual experience remained alive, hidden inside me like an insect hibernating deep underground.

The experiments with the crystal increased my interest in science. And so I ended up taking physics as a profession, teaching it some years later at a small university, in a city not so far away from my home. In the meantime, as the interaction of electromagnetic waves with matter had become my specialty, I also became involved in several collaboration projects of light-related research.

I suppose the mysterious cube would have stayed in the cardboard box forever if I hadn't started a new set of experiments with solid-state lasers.

♣

I had been living and working in the city nearby for more than a decade. Lately, I'd gotten into the habit of staying at my old home several weeks a year, mostly during the winter and summer breaks. From summer to winter and back, my days went on without many notable events.

That summer began as usual. I got ready for the same mix of work and leisure in the mountains, where I was going to alternate my time spent among books, measurements, and calculations with long strolls through the forests. Yet, new events were already gathering pace around me, like the clouds of a hurricane still hidden behind the horizon.

This new project was an extended collaboration, with several universities from around the world sharing the research work. It focused on designing and building an improved portable laser for low-power devices, with potential use in both research and industry. My part consisted of testing new materials for stimulated photon emission that were involved in the frequency doubling process. These materials released purple-colored beams in the visible spectrum, with an efficiency superior to the existing commercial models.

I was out of inspiration, so I left the city after the summer solstice, taking with me some of these crystals and the parts for the portable laser prototype I was building. I planned to do sets of measurements inside the improvised laboratory set up the previous year in my home's attic. A window there proved convenient for testing the beam focus at long distances, as it opened into an empty area of my garden with the misty mountains on the background.

Each night, I would spend long hours looking at the purple thread of light that disappeared into the distant peaks. When no clouds were present, constellations sliding from one horizon to another filled the space above, like the hands of a giant cosmic clock. At the same time, I was doing sets after sets of measurements involving the diameter and shape of the beam's focus spot.

One evening, while trying to find new ways of improving the beam's focus and intensity at long distances, the memory about the crystal cube popped up into my conscious mind.

I don't know what had triggered it. Nevertheless, I suddenly found myself thinking about checking its interaction with the purple light coming from my laser.

♣

Floating on the river of time, past episodes from my life are turning more and more vivid. I'm back there and then, living again the whole series of events from that night. The past pulls me in, away from this moment. And then the past is pulled out, absorbing the present, becoming the present.

The crystal is on the dark wooden table from my living room. I take a deep breath. From the garden, I can smell the rich fragrance of the freshly mowed grass. Surprisingly, this thought never crossed my mind before. I'm going to set up a new test in the attic upstairs. I couldn't do it in those days of the past when lasers were bulky and expensive. However, tonight I shall be able to find out how my monochromatic beam interacts with the cube.

The hard crystal feels like a precious diamond inside my clenched fist. With a feeling of anticipation, I climb again the narrow stairs that lead to the attic. I need a few minutes to mount my treasured relic on a small rotating platform already placed in front of the laser. Then I set the beam to work in a continuous regime.

Most of the light goes unimpeded through the crystal at first. Yet, luminous filaments begin to fill the cube soon, a view so familiar during my raw experiments from the distant past. It's a rather slow process, taking about a minute to complete. When the crystal is uniformly lit from within, it wraps the attic in a diffuse, purple color. Small dots of higher intensity appear at regular intervals on the wooden boards that hold the roof's thin metal sheets.

A couple of minutes later, the beam leaving the crystal gets denser. Fuzzy shadows are randomly moving now inside it. I'm rotating the cube little by little until its incident surface is perpendicular to the beam. The beam becomes visibly divergent and reaches the small window that opens towards the mountains. There is something different about the window's reflection. I instinctively move closer to the strange sparkles of color emerging from it.

The attic's window has become much brighter, dissolving the night from outside. I keep looking at the four rectangular transparent sheets that separate me from the garden and mountains. The beam is almost completely covering them.

In the half-darkness, I can see a completely different view inside the contour marked by the purple ray. Incredulous, I come next to the glass, trying not to block the beam's path. I immediately find myself admiring an alien scenery. It's a vast garden.

Stone alleys curl in regular patterns around giant trees with white trunks and violet leaves. Insects that look like butterflies are flapping their blue wings in the air. They fly among bushes full of red flowers that make me think of roses. In the background, I can glimpse a continuous line of tall mountains covered by forests.

A violet sky with purple clouds moving across it dominates the view. The still water (is it really water?) of a lake, glittering farther to the left, reflects in iridescent colors the floating landscape from above. Even farther away, close to the peaks near the horizon, unknown snake-like creatures are advancing with undulating moves, riding the winds.

The window's glass sheet has just become a magic looking-glass. However, unlike the one in Alice's story, it appears completely different on the other side. And I can't cross the boundary between these worlds.

♣

The vivid colors of my memories are fading. The past is dissolving. The present is connecting again with the rest of my world, taking me back to reality. I can still see how I spent the night turning the cube on all its faces, changing its position on the rotating platform, and testing its interaction with the laser beam, again and again. Yet, no matter what surface the purple thread of light touched, as long as the emergent beam filled the window, the same dynamic view appeared on the other side. Then I removed the crystal and placed various pieces of glass in front of the beam. Now, the beam crossed them without any noticeable loss in intensity; no alien landscape appeared.

With the setup unchanged, I moved the laser around and shone it through other windows of my home. The unusual phenomenon did not manifest in any of them. The attic window was the only one that opened towards that incredible view every time the light emerging from the crystal was touching it. When I brought in a lantern and turned it toward the other side, its beam of light crossed the glass border into the alien world. I could see how it interacted with the garden.

The rest of the night passed quickly, filled with a sense of awe and wonder. At dawn, the light from outside became too bright, and the view faded away. I switched off the laser and soon plunged into a deep sleep haunted by blurred dreams.

When I opened my eyes again, it was already late in the afternoon. My head ached. Everything around me appeared fuzzy and distorted.

♣

My grandfather used to tell me about a house on the northern hill, not so far away from ours. It had been built by a farmer, more than eighty years ago. The man bought the windows from a glass merchant who lived in the nearest city. However, one day he sold his property in a haste, then went away, towards an unknown destination. Nobody from our village heard of his whereabouts again.

What had made him leave so suddenly? Had he seen at night something unusual on the other side of the glass sheets used for his home's windows? Perhaps it was a strange garden from another world? Still, with no monochromatic light available back then for experiments like mine, how could these unusual properties of the glass be activated?

They took down the house some years later, but not before the new owner sold its doors, windows, and part of the furniture. All these items were still in good condition, and most of them fetched a decent price. My grandfather bought a small pane and used it for the attic of our home. By that time, the glass merchant had already left the city, and nobody knew his new whereabouts.

These events took place long before I was born. Time flew by, many winters and summers succeeding each other. The memories of the past sank into oblivion, little by little. The people who currently live there have no recollection of the glass seller from the city, nor of his mysterious windows.

Touched by the river of time, my grandfather also passed away at the age of 85, becoming one with the Absolute, like everybody else from his generation. Nowadays, few people even remember the house on the other side of the river. As for the names, they are already long forgotten.

♣

Almost six weeks after my strange discovery, I still had made no progress in understanding what was going on. Taking with me the cube and a tiny fragment from the glass sheet, I went back to the city. There, I used the resources from the university's lab to secretly investigate the composition of the material.

The analysis revealed it to be fused silica glass, an unusual choice for a window. This type of glass is quite hard, has a low thermal expansion coefficient, and can withstand high temperatures (up to 1000-1500 Celsius degrees). Typical window sheets use soda-lime-silica glass, have a high thermal expansion coefficient, and melt at 500-600 Celsius degrees. So much for the chemical composition. Someone selling fused silica windows glass more than eighty years ago? And so cheaply? That sounded ridiculous to me.

A thorough examination of the glass on an electron microscope deepened the mystery even more. The material displayed rows of repetitive patterns made by alternating layers only a fraction of a micron thick and with distinct optical properties. Their refraction indices seemed to follow a periodic spatial variation law shaped by an unknown equation. A similar pattern was also visible inside the cube, from which I didn't dare to cut even the tiniest fragment for analysis. Who could have manufactured back then something way beyond today's technology?

Taking the opportunity given by the long summer break and its relaxed schedule, I tested my laser's beam on every transparent material I could find at the university. I included on the list many types of glass and dozens of diffraction lattices. Nothing unusual ever happened. The light would just pass through the material, its intensity slightly decreasing.

Taking the opportunity given by the long summer break and its relaxed schedule, I tested my laser's beam on every transparent material I could find at the university. I included on the list many types of glass and dozens of diffraction lattices. Nothing unusual ever happened. The light just passed through, its intensity slightly decreasing.

Then I adjusted up and down the laser wavelength by several tens of nanometers. Again, nothing out of the ordinary occurred. Changing the laser type and using wavelengths from red to blue gave me the same results. The alien view opened only through my attic's window and only with the purple light beam, within a wavelength band of plus or minus 25 nanometers from its nominal value of 445 nanometers.

After five more days, I abandoned my tests at the university's lab and went back to my village, back to the attic window. The weather was still warm, so I decided to spend most of the remaining summer nights there, observing the landscape from the other side of the glass sheet.

In the meantime, talking to clerks from the local administration and browsing old official documents, I attempted to track down the fate of the other windows from the demolished house. Every couple of days, I was traveling back and forth between my village and the city, putting together incomplete bits of information, hoping to revive the memories of those times. Unfortunately, both glass and man seemed to have disappeared without a trace.

Of course, there was a chance other people from the village might have bought similar window panes. With this thought in mind, I began asking around who had purchased sheets of glass from the old house on the northern hill. After a week, I succeeded in tracking two of those windows, still kept in storage by the buyers' sons. Their owners were happy to give them to me for free, without even asking too many questions.

Nothing occurred when I shone my purple beam through the new windows. Back at the university, I analyzed the chemical composition of the windows and examined them with the electron microscope from the lab. They were made of ordinary glass. I couldn't spot any patterns inside, either. With no further paths to follow, I decided to drop the inquiry and keep the matter for myself for the time being. The sheets of my attic window were probably the only ones that possessed these mysterious properties.

♣

Every time I come back to my childhood home, I spend long hours looking at the alien world unfolding outside my attic. I have installed a set of shutters on the exterior so I can also check the view during the day.

I've added another laser to the setup. It broadcasts light pulses that follow periodic patterns towards the other world, in the eventuality that intelligent creatures still live there and might reply. I've never tried to unmount the glass sheets from the wooden frame: I like it more this way. It gives me the feeling that the whole house is part of a different universe, and that I could cross onto the other side if I only opened the window and stepped through it.

Sometimes it's daytime there; at other hours, darkness floods the garden. Watching the movements of a red sun across the alien sky, I have estimated the planet's day length to be about 27 hours and 17 minutes. The snake-like flying creatures never came close, so I can't tell for sure what they are.

I took a significant number of photographs and recorded many videos of this realm. Yet, I continue to avoid telling other people about my discovery. Having my sheets of glass taken away by the government to a secret location surrounded by armed soldiers and used for purposes beyond my control, possibly for military applications, is not what I'd like to see happening.

I believe the human race is not ready for a contact with an alien civilization. Our history, full of wars and destruction, stays witness to it. It's better to remain quiet until times change.

At present, only light can cross the fragile glass boundary. Yet, teleportation experiments attempting to move electrons and atoms from one place to another have been underway in several laboratories for years. One day, we might succeed in using photons even to transfer our bodies between different locations. That could also include passing through the glass boundary from my attic window into the alien world. But not now, and not for some time in the future.

As for what physical phenomenon makes the light bend the space, generating a stargate and connecting two regions of the Universe so far away from each other, all done with such a small amount of energy: I cannot find any possible explanation for it. Who knows, maybe the other side is not even real. Perhaps everything I can see happens inside a dream. Yet, I still want to believe that the garden is not part of my imagination. And so, I shall continue to learn as much as I can about the place visible on the other side of my attic's window.

The cube may use a hidden power source nearby, located close to the cave where I discovered it so many years ago. Unfortunately, there is no way to check this unless I succeed in finding the cave's entrance again. I tried several times to retrace its location this summer but without success.

The garden might be in a remote, little-circulated area. Or perhaps the builders of its stargate left the planet long ago. However, I'd like to think they still live nearby and might show up at any moment. Therefore, I continue to send them pulsed signals of light every time I come back to my home from the mountains.

♣

There is a stargate in my attic. It shrinks space and time and brings in front of my eyes the image of an alien civilization. I don't know precisely where the other side of my window leads. Based on an approximate map of the brightest stars visible there at night and some three-dimensional computer analysis, my calculations suggest the garden is less than one hundred light-years away, somewhere in the direction of the Cassiopeia Constellation.

One day, our telescopes will find this planet. And, maybe in a distant future, a human-made probe will cross the interstellar void to explore those landscapes. It will send back to Earth photographs and videos that are going to travel for many decades to reach our home. Her broadcast will tell new stories about life and intelligence, sharing with us some of the greatness and beauty of that place. Maybe long before this happens, I shall find a way to share my attic's view with everybody, without risking having it taken away from me by organizations with dark agendas.

♣

The summer is ending. In the mountains, the autumn has already expanded its yellow tendrils among the trees that aren't evergreen. The days have gotten shorter. I come here less often, spending most of my time in the city. There I teach classes at the university and do new experiments for my research projects. In my dark attic, the purple laser beam runs for many hours on the weekends. I have recently installed a camera with motion sensors to record anything unusual that might show up on the other side. So far, I've spotted nothing new.

Focused beyond the glass of the attic window, my eyes are resting on the far-away shapes of the peaks still basking in the golden rays of the setting Sun. I take a deep breath and get ready for another night of observations.

And then a new idea crosses my mind. I realize I've never tried the reverse combination for the laser beam: first the window, and then the crystal. The weather is still warm tonight, so I shall detach the window frame that is holding the glass from its hinges and place it between the laser and the small platform where the cube is mounted.

A few minutes later, I'm ready for the new experiment. While the night is flooding the room, I switch on the beam. Immediately, the crystal begins to vibrate, emitting a low humming sound. A luminous sphere is expanding from the cube, enveloping it in diffuse green light. I step towards it and...
...the whole world dissolves into a sparkle of colored fireworks.

I'm again up here, whipped by wind and rain, holding the mast tightly, dizzy and shaken by the new experience. I feel as if I have spent a lifetime inside my second vision. Apparently, these events also took place in the future. Advanced technology, way beyond my comprehension, was common and widespread in that world. Everything made sense there and then, but back here and now, I can't describe any of the new things I have witnessed. How does a **laser** work, anyway?

Also, the units used there for size and distance were the meter and its submultiples. They were designed four years ago and made official two years later by the French Academy. Being still new, few people use them currently, even in France. Perhaps many years from now, the metric system will be commonly utilized around the world.

I had enough of this pain. I should slide down to the deck, then go straight to my cabin and rest for a few hours, as much as any rest is possible in this kind of weather.

Yet, before I have time to begin my descent, another lightning strikes the top of the mast. The green halo of light engulfs me for the third time. The already familiar agony, then the numbness, follow in short succession. "Please stop it!" I try to scream in desperation, but it's already too late. My lips can't utter a sound, and I succumb again to this cruel game. Once more, inside a frozen bubble of time and against my will, I am someone else, somewhere else, some-when else.

_If you want to play with the sea, you need to become a lake._

_How to become a lake?_

_Learn how to flow and be still at the same time._

### Flash Three:

### Under Siege

Rustles are stirring the treetops. The fog is slowly rising, compact like a platform pulled by an invisible crane. At the horizon, it's almost touching the clouds that fill the sky above. It keeps moving upwards in front of the blue mountains, obscuring their peaks and revealing their bases.

Zephyr, the second sun, has set hours ago. It's close to midnight now, but there is enough light even to read a book. Here, on the northern continent, the great summer is at its peak. Ephyr, the second sun, shines bright day and night, never sinking below the sky edge. It will continue to do so for many short years to come.

When the sky is clear, trees and rocks continue to cast trembling shadows in the cold light of Ephyr even after Zephyr has set. During this season that lasts almost a quarter of a human lifetime, the night sky has a green-gray color, and one can see only the brightest stars at this latitude. On top of that, the nocturnal light makes some degree of photosynthesis possible in many local plants.

Luxuriant vegetation, unknown in the great winter, grows day and night until it covers the mountains and plains like a tropical jungle. These are new grasses, shrubs, and trees that appear and flourish for a few decades. Then they wither and die, releasing seeds that will be patiently waiting underground for more than half a century, until the next great summer arrives.

This abundance of plant life triggers extensive migrations from the opposite hemisphere. Herds of antelopes, fish banks, swarms of insects, or flocks of birds travel from the south on land, water, and air, followed by big predators. And sometimes human armies from far away kingdoms show up behind them, enveloped in dreams of pillage and conquest.

♣

Located on the top of a rocky hill, the Citadel dominates the landscape. The massive stone walls and tall towers give it the shape of a crown. From the watchtower, peeking through the empty spots left by the rising fog, Moriel watches the moves of the enemy army. A worried look is emerging from his eyes.

_How many of them came? Ten thousand? Twenty thousand? We only have three thousand people within the walls of our stronghold, almost half of them women and children. If we leave aside the very young and the old, about one thousand individuals ready to fight are left. Among them, only about three hundred are real soldiers. The fortress has enough food supplies for about two months, but can we even last for a week in front of such a big army if the king doesn't come soon to help us?_

_I've heard that these people, called Hadar, enslave all the men and women they can catch alive. They consider themselves a superior race who were chosen by their god to conquer everything under the Two Suns. They have declared the whole world their rightful possession; everybody else is supposed to obey and serve them._

_And why does it have to happen right now? Now, when this planet is in much greater danger! A threat of destruction is coming from space, brought by my people. They are going to land here soon, after crossing the immense cosmic void that separates their homeworld from this realm._

_Instead of battling to prevent the real invasion that will begin in less than two years, we need to fight now for our lives against these primitive individuals. To make things worse, I cannot even access from here any of our technology. I knew my mission was going to be difficult but didn't expect the odds of success to be so low._

Sighing, Moriel turns his head and looks upwards, as if a miracle could still happen, bringing help and salvation from the sky. Towards the north, where both fog and clouds have cleared up, two thin shapes can be glimpsed for a few moments, flying high above the mountains.

_Another pair of dragons. I envy their freedom to go wherever they want and live how they like. In my world, they only existed in legends, but here they are real. Beautiful, powerful, and intelligent beasts. Oh, how I wish to find a way to make them our allies for the war that will come from the stars!_

For a moment, the image of a ship sailing amidst stormy waters reaches his mind, taking him by surprise. Swaying, he feels like he is both here and there: in the watchtower and on the open sea. At the same time, basking in the cold light of Ephyr and being whipped by a hurricane. The view fades into the mist before he has a chance to react. Things turn back immediately the way they were before.

Down in the fields, the enemy is assembling catapults. In the icy light of the second sun, one can see with crystal clarity the movement of the Hadar. The invader's troops and mobile fortifications have already surrounded the Citadel. No escape routes are left. In silence, Moriel and some of his people continue to observe the valley. The tension before the incoming battle stings the lungs.

The Hadar take their time in preparation for the attack, confident in the soon-coming victory. They like to put into action unusual weapons and peculiar strategies. A few old people from the fortress saw them during the previous great summer when the invaders from the south also attempted to conquer these lands and failed. However, these barbarians had fewer troops back then, and their soldiers were rather poorly equipped. Now, a numerous army with spears, swords, and shields invaded this valley again, stronger and greedier than ever before.

The old men know that one of the standard tactics of the Hadar is to throw hundreds of tropical wasp nests inside the besieged fortifications. Then they send their warriors to climb the walls on long ladders while the people inside are busy defending or running away from the angry insects. When attacking, their soldiers use an ointment with a secret formula that keeps the wasps away from their skin. Keeping the nests healthy on these long campaigns and avoiding any wasp stings must require special skills and great care. The Hadar certainly have these qualities and must not be underestimated.

_If only the king could help us in time! Messengers were sent to the capital a few days ago, in ways so hidden that nobody should have discovered their presence before they entered the palace. Unfortunately, with such a powerful enemy, you can never be sure about what might happen until our reinforcements arrive. Brother, I'm counting on your help!_

A soldier shows up in the tower. "The war council asks for you," he reports, looking at Moriel.

♣

_These people are so different from those in my world! They spend more time developing their bodies and minds and avoid relying too much on technology. In some ways, their culture is so primitive; in other ways, it's so advanced! Take, for example, the mind whisperers who can temporarily control insects, animals, or birds using hypnosis and intense neural waves generated by their trained brains._

The voices resonating inside the large hall take him back to reality.

"We only have two mind whisperers in the Citadel. It will be difficult for them to control all the wasp swarms when the full-scale assault begins," says one of the captains. "We might have to gather everybody on a single side of the fortress. However, the enemy is going to notice that and will bring a massive attack onto the opposite wall. By doing so, the Hadar will break through the undefended perimeter."

"What about using smoke?" a priest asks. "I've heard the blade grass is a good barrier against the insects."

"It might help to some extent," a knight says. "Yet, this will make the air difficult to breathe for us. It will also give our archers a hard time. They will not be able to spot and repel the enemy efficiently."

Moriel is listening to the talk, gathering information bit by bit. New structures spread inside his head, ready to become words. He lets his subconscious mind analyze everything that can be of practical use. His brain, trained for so many years to process facts and data, will generate a solution soon. Meanwhile, his thoughts continue to wander back and forth.

_It's still beyond my comprehension how such a distant place, a world from a double star system, can have plants, animals, and people almost identical to our world. Almost. The humans on this planet are genetically compatible with us, yet there are subtle differences between our two species. Are they caused by their environment, their way of life, or perhaps by their culture?_

_There is no obvious explanation for this situation. How can such similarity be possible? How can they look so much like the people on Earth? Why do we share the same DNA? Even their musical language is not so different from most languages spoken on my home planet. Do we have the same origin? Has there been a time in the past when all humans shared the same location? Is DNA the brick of life everywhere in this Universe? Shall we ever know the truth?_

_I have only been here for half a year but already feel like a Dorian. As the king's sworn brother, I'm supposed to protect these people because they are now my people, too. I was already responsible for them and for this whole planet from the moment I began crossing the interstellar void in the long journey that brought me here._

Around him, the discussion goes on. Men and women sitting in a large circle speak out their minds, arguing for or against various methods of attack and defense. There is enough data now to come with a way out.

He stands up, drawing everybody's attention. The chatter dwindles into sporadic whispers. All the heads turn toward him. The people are waiting to hear his words.

Moriel is still silent, displaying a preoccupied expression. A few more moments pass, and now everybody is quiet. They know it, they feel it. He has just found an answer, a plan to repeal the imminent threat. Moriel embraces them with a warm look and speaks with a clear and confident voice:

"We have to attack them first."

The peoples' faces are producing surprised expressions. The chatter quickly fills up the hall again, reflected by the white marble walls, sending echoes back and forth under the arched ceiling.

"We want the wasp nests destroyed before they land inside the stronghold," the commander says. "Does anyone know what makes the insects more aggressive?"

"The smoke of red basil might do it," an old physician replies, wondering about this counter-intuitive solution. Why would someone want the insects to be even more aggressive? However, he prefers to keep these thoughts for himself and waits for Moriel to continue.

"If I remember correctly, we have enough dried supplies of these plants. So, here is my plan: First of all, we shall take one hundred arrows and wrap their heads in red basil. Then we lit the herbs and shoot at the nest boxes, filling them with smoke. If we can stir the insects inside the enemy's camp, they will turn against their owners instead of harming us."

The commander goes on:

"We don't know where they keep the nests, so we can't shoot the arrows from here. And even if we knew, we couldn't reach the far side of their camp, which is their most likely location. It's necessary to pay a visit to the enemy, to step inside his defenses. We need to burn down the nests. All of them, if possible. I shall lead the operation myself."

"How can we enter their camp undetected? Are we going to disguise ourselves to look like them?" a young knight asks.

"Yes, otherwise we shan't be able to come close to our targets. If I remember correctly, we have a few of their weapons in our armory, captured during the previous great summer. They are not perfect, but should be adequate for our short incursion."

Everybody agrees with the plan. The people leave the hall and begin the necessary preparations for the attack.

♣

In the cold light of Ephyr, the fog's motion changes course. Now it begins to flow downwards again, slowly sliding along the uneven ground. Taking advantage of a thick bamboo grove placed between the Citadel and the enemy lines, a group of warriors is crawling out of a secret gate hidden behind a bush, just outside the walls. Once out in the open, twenty knights and one priest walk briskly towards the invader's positions. They carry swords, bows, and arrows similar to those used by the enemy.

A dozen catapults are lined up inside the Hadar camp, ready for action. But it seems they have delayed the attack until morning, when the insects are going to be more aggressive. The nests are probably still in the big boxes from the covered wagons, most likely in some area farther away from the fortress.

The incoming Dorians look like the Hadar. Because the invaders from the south have a brownish complexion, the intruders have darkened their faces with pine oil, to avoid drawing unwanted attention. One of the men carries a dead fawn on his back. They pretend to be returning from a trek of reconnaissance and hunting. The priest is the only one who speaks the Hadar language, so he leads the commandos, followed by Moriel.

Most paths leading behind the siege line are not well guarded. The enemy is so confident in his incoming success that he only keeps careful watches over the main checkpoints. The soldiers don't need to spell passwords when going in or out.

With a casual attitude, the men cross the camp's edge through a secondary checkpoint. Then they walk to the most likely location of the wagons. They look so inconspicuous nobody throws them a second look. Most Hadar soldiers are asleep, anyway. The Dorians split then into smaller groups and keep searching for their target. They walk around tents and carts until someone is going to spot the boxes containing the nests. A few uneasy minutes pass as the tension builds up.

At last, they find the big dark crates with the nests. The boxes are punctured by small circular openings that allow the wasps to go in and out. The insects have to be all inside now, sleeping. Their keepers must have fed them well and probably used the fragrance of specific plants to prevent the wasps from attacking the soldiers.

A discreet signal reunites the group. The men draw closer to the target, near a group of small fires burning nearby. Soon, they ignite their own next to them, preparing to roast the fawn. The arrow bags are taken off and lain near, ready to be used when needed. Up in the sky, a large cloud is coming closer to Ephyr. It will soon cover the second sun, sinking the whole valley into partial darkness. That would be a perfect time to launch the attack.

Moriel spots a big tent in front of him, perhaps belonging to a highly-ranked officer. A few moments before the cloud is due to cover Ephyr, he stands up, making an inconspicuous gesture towards his men. There is a small burning branch in his hand. While directing his feet towards the latrines dug at the back edge of the camp, he discreetly ignites the canvas when passing by.

Little hungry flames begin to eat from the dry fabric and quickly spread over it. Moriel pretends not to notice what's going on and takes a few more steps ahead. Moments later, the tent behind him has turned into a big torch. Panicked shadows are jumping out of it, coughing and screaming. Using one of the few words he can say in the enemy's language, the commander starts shouting: "Fire! Fire!" and runs back towards his men.

"The Dorians are here!" the priest yells as loud as he can. "Watch out! They are dressed just like us!"

Giddy people are coming from all directions, tired from the long weeks of marching that brought them to this valley. They run in circles, shouting and bumping into each other. Some are alert; others have barely awakened from their slumber. Some are sober; others are drunk. Some are without weapons; others are armed. But almost all are too confused to get a clear idea of what's going on.

On the other hand, the Dorians are ready. Moriel's men instantly slay two Hadar soldiers while he strikes down a third with his short sword. The fire is spreading fast. Thick smoke fills this part of the camp. Utterly confused, the Hadar start fighting each other while the knights shoot their burning arrows towards the wagons that carry the nests.

"The Dorians are retreating to the fortress!" the priest shouts again. "Don't let them escape, chase the enemy!

Moriel and his men wait motionless while small groups of soldiers run out of the camp at full speed, pursuing an invisible foe. Scores of Hadar troops follow them soon. Nobody knows where the enemy is, no one can find him. Caught by the sharp claws of panic, the men are charging blindly at the shrubs from the Citadel's hill.

In the meantime, the group of Dorians is crossing the camp towards the checkpoint where they have entered it. They appear to be chasing the mysterious attackers. Nobody tries to stop them. Soon they are leaving behind the Hadar wagons, tents, and soldiers.

Now, the enemy begins to realize the truth and attempts to catch up with Moriel's group, but it's too late. As the Hadar soldiers are nearing the walls of the stronghold, the well-trained archers from the towers are shooting them down. Suffering heavy losses, the invaders have to make a hasty retreat to their camp. And right at this moment, the hell breaks loose over there, with the furious wasps stinging everybody who has the terrible luck to be in close range of their nests.

Shielded by the stone defenses, the Dorians from the Citadel get their catapults ready. More archers are lining up now behind the walls. Taking opportunity of the higher ground, they launch burning pieces of wood and well-aimed arrows into the front edge of the Hadar's camp, spreading more death and panic among the enemy lines.

"I bet they didn't know we could shoot our arrows so far away," Moriel says, laughing loudly.

"They are going to learn a lot of new things about us these days, most of them in the most unpleasant way," the priest replies, a wide grin spreading on his face.

In the pale light of Ephyr, the whole valley is now shining brightly under deadly flames.

♣

Before dawn, the enemy moved farther away from the fortress. Still, the siege line remains unbroken. For the people inside the Citadel, the night attack has reached its purpose. The wasp nests have burned out. The dangerous insects are gone, and so is any chance of a quick, overwhelming assault. However, it won't work a second time. The invaders are not taking any more risks, carefully guarding now all the checkpoints.

Hundreds of barbarians must have died from wasp stings and fire burns before Zephyr rose again into the sky. Nevertheless, this was just a small fraction of their troops. The Dorian's incursion was a symbolic victory, only meant to buy time and respect from their foe while waiting for reinforcements. The people from the stronghold know it. The invaders know it, too.

Out in the open, standing in front of the Citadel's gate and defying the enemy troops, Moriel watches their maneuvers, still waiting for a sign from his king. Despite his exposed position, no Hadar troops attempt to attack him so close to the walls. The attackers know they need a better plan to succeed and are going to take their time working on it. A few quiet days will follow. Then, if nobody comes to save the people sheltering behind the tall walls, hell will break loose.

_They are getting organized after last night's disaster. That's good for them and bad for us. We need to provoke the enemy to attack sooner, hopefully in a reckless manner. How can we stir these people to start an immediate, senseless assault?_

_Well, I think there is a way to do it. The Hadar have this god of theirs, a god they revere as the supreme ruler of the Universe. A god who despises the peaceful people of this continent and pushes his followers to pillage and enslave them in his name. For me, such a god deserves no respect whatsoever._

_What better trick to make them excessively angry than by insulting their supreme divinity? I'll ask our priest to teach us the worst Hadar insults. Then we shall come to the walls and curse their god in a choir until the invaders lose their temper completely and charge towards the Citadel like a herd of angry bulls. They'd be the perfect target practice for our archers._

Yes, this plan should bring them a few more days of quiet. It would inflict another dose of fear and pain onto the cruel barbarians, allowing the people from the Citadel to wait undisturbed the arrival of the relief troops. Moriel is smiling. He and his men are going to have a good time tonight.

_I feel a presence nearby. A small being, probably an animal, is coming closer, searching for me._

His keen awareness, enhanced during so many years of hard training on Earth, keeps him always ready. A few steps away, the dark leaves from a branch begin to rustle. Climbing down from a tree, a brown squirrel approaches the man with hesitant moves. The little animal looks scared, but an irresistible power draws it closer.

"Mo-mo-mo-Moriel?" the creature coughs in a tiny, squeaky voice full of fear.

It talks in the Eso language, the only way of communication that people, some birds, and some animals can share to an acceptable extent in this world. The words are all high-pitched and distorted but still recognizable.

"Yes, I am Moriel," the man answers in the same tongue.

The squirrel will now announce the message as it was imprinted by the sender into its brain, under hypnosis:

"We have received your request for help. We tried replying by air, but the Hadar killed all the Rota birds. Then we sent a human messenger, but he could not cross their camp this morning and used a squirrel to deliver our words. We already have a few scouts in the valley, and the royal troops are only three days away. Ten thousand Dera soldiers and two thousand knights are coming by boat along the Arion River. They are going to attack the south-west side of the enemy camp in four days, at noon. Be ready to synchronize your battle plans accordingly."

The little animal is quiet now, and some of its fear has faded away. Its enhanced empathy can feel the commander's emotions. The aura of friendship surrounding the man is calming down the squirrel's heartbeats.

"Come with me," Moriel says. "As a reward for your good work, I shall give you all the food you can eat. You can also stay in our fortress for as long as you want. Come! Don't be afraid!"

Still hesitating, the squirrel continues to stare, motionless, at the man. However, it changes its mind a few moments later and climbs on his shoulder. The gates of the fortress are opening, and the commander disappears behind the thick walls of stone.

♣

Zephyr has set again behind the snowy peaks, leaving this part of the world wrapped only in the soothing light of Ephyr. The Hadar camp can still be seen in the valley, squeezing like an iron ring the hill dominated by the Citadel. From the highest point of the watchtower, Moriel is inspecting the preparations of the enemy troops. This time his face displays a confident expression.

While the invaders worked hard all day to repair the damage from their camp, the people inside the fortress had a good rest. Now they are lined up along the walls' defenses, getting ready to anger their foes with a choir of curses against the evil barbarian god. Moriel is grinning.

_The siege won't last long. Soon, very soon, we can start preparing for the real war._

The commander stretches his arms to the sky as if trying to touch the scattered clouds from above. A moment later, a blue butterfly lands on his right index finger. Moriel lowers the hand in front of his eyes and watches the insect intently.

_You wanted to let me know that everything is going to be fine? I already know that. Thank you for your concern and your visit!_

The butterfly takes off, disappearing into the valley below. Moriel turns around and opens a wooden door, preparing to descend towards the line of defense from above the main wall. A wet wind carrying the salty scent of the ocean hits his face.
Rain and wind surround me for a moment, then everything turns into a quiet blackness. A curious feeling is pouring through me as if I were falling asleep and waking up at the same time. Now I see myself floating freely, immersed in a luminous, blue liquid. I'm surprised to find out that I can breathe normally, despite the lack of air. For some unknown reason, the refraction index of this substance is close to that of air, allowing my eyes to stay focused and see around clearly.

I'm in the center of a sphere about twenty feet in diameter. A network of hexagonal mirrors marks its surface. At a more careful look, the mirrors seem to reflect my naked body. However, all of them display it in slightly different postures that don't match my current one. My image appears on the reflective material with a delay varying from a few moments to a few minutes. As if I were living simultaneously dozens, no, hundreds of lives.

What am I doing here? Is this another dream, or is it the real world? The mirrors are getting darker, and the chamber is gradually filling with a red light.

I think I was not supposed to wake up here. This must be an unexpected incident, not foreseen by those who brought me to this place. The liquid's pressure is increasing, numbing my senses and thoughts. A few moments later, my vision becomes blurry, and I lose consciousness.

_In a few rare instances, knowing happens directly, but in most cases it is revealed gradually, adjusting to the level of understanding present inside the recipient. More often than not, it takes years of struggle until a sudden revelation gives meaning to the newly achieved information._

♣

A wave of cold and pain is piercing my body. I need a few moments to understand where I am, while hanging tightly from the mast's cordage, in a fragile balance above the furious ocean.

The storm is furiously lashing my face. Exhausted, I'm climbing down the mainmast, moving away from the black velvet sky. Flashes of lightning are slicing the wind and the rain. The ship rolling shakes my body back and forth while my muscles are shivering from the strain, bathed in a cold curtain of water.

The last vision was even more unusual than the first two, with all those warriors, dragons, and talking animals living in a world so similar, yet so different from ours. I lift my head for a moment and peek at the top of the mast again. The green halo of light is gone. I don't know how long I've been up here, but it felt like three lifetimes.

There is a burning pain on my left shoulder. Perhaps it has been caused by one of the lightning flashes. I check the shirt's fabric thorn above my left deltoid muscle, and I find a small but irritating burn on my skin there. I'll take care of it after I reach the deck. My body is barely obeying my brain's commands while I continue my descent along the cordage.

Dizzy and shaken, I finally manage to get down from the mast. A wave of nausea assaults me as soon as I step onto the wet boards. The whole Universe is spinning around me, faster and faster. I'm trying to brave my condition and attempt to walk unaided towards my quarters but without success. Two steps later, my legs refuse to carry me further, and I collapse on the deck.

Oblivious to my suffering, the wind and rain continue to batter my inert body in the furious rolling of _Excelsior_. Soon, I can feel strong hands grabbing my arms and legs and carrying me to my cabin. My field of vision is narrowing even more, and I plunge head-on into a deep abyss of numbness. Fortunately, this time it is a quiet and comfortable numbness. And I'm grateful for it.

_Becoming one with the sea. Becoming a lake..._

_My thoughts are fading away, dissolving into an endless void._

♣

I wake up in my bed, bathed in the warm light of the Sun. I'm alone in the cabin. Everything around is peaceful and quiet, even the gentle rocking motion of the ship.

How long has it been since the storm ended? A terrible headache is still tormenting me. Otherwise, I feel noticeably better. I try to push myself up into a sitting position. A sharp pain cuts immediately through my left shoulder, now wrapped in a tight bandage.

The memories of my adventures on the mainmast are gradually coming back. I roll onto my right side, avoiding leaning on my wound, then reach the floor with my feet and lift my torso into a sitting position. I stand up without haste and get dressed. My poor physical shape forces me to do everything with slow movements.

Several minutes pass by until I finally squeeze my feet inside my boots and manage to climb the narrow ladder that leads to the deck. Here I take a few uncertain steps back and forth, breathing the fresh air and almost bumping into the captain a few moments later.

The captain is glad to see me conscious and walking without help. I learn from him that three days have passed since the storm ended. During this long slumber, my whole body was in a state similar to hibernation, with a low temperature and slow heartbeats. The ship's surgeon, with whom I share my sleeping quarters, took good care of me, bandaging my wound and massaging my arms and legs several times a day to keep the blood circulation active.

The captain also remarks that when I was up in the air back then, some crewmen could have sworn I had vanished for a moment or two, right after each lightning strike that hit close to me. However, because long moments of darkness followed every electrical discharge, it was hard to tell for sure whether I was really gone. And, in any case, I've spent less than a minute next to the green halo.

We were fortunate. The hurricane didn't seriously harm to our vessel. Nobody lost his life; no one was seriously injured. As soon as the weather was good again, _Excelsior_ raised all sails and continued her trip towards the Southern Seas. The crew fully repaired in a day and a half all the small damages that occurred during the storm.

So, today is October 16. While the ocean's water keeps flowing along the hull of our ship, I grab something to eat. Then I write down my thoughts in my log. I include here the strange dreams as vivid as life, apparently generated by the lightning strikes. They all seem to share a loose connection, but I'm having difficulties in finding it. I've got a strong feeling that there is something important inside these dreams, a special message for me.

Why did I go through such unusual experiences after every electrical discharge? Based on how hard the flashes of lightning hit me, I should be dead. Yet here I am, not even seriously injured. What was that green halo of light on top of the mast? Why did I perceive a slowing down of time after each lightning strike?

Questions keep coming, one after another. Yet, no matter how hard I'm looking for answers, they are nowhere to be found. In the end, not all the things we experience feature a rational explanation. Sometimes we have to accept the facts as they are and move on.

Several hours later, the headache is alleviating and the shoulder pain dwindles to a minor nuisance. After a big lunch, strength is gradually returning to my body. And so, I re-enter my active duty in the evening.

Showered by the rays of the setting Sun, the prow of _Excelsior_ is splitting the waves with the familiar hissing sound. The crewmen not on duty are playing card games or are telling stories to each other. The journey has become routine again.

♣

_October 21_ — The Southern Islands rise slowly above the dark-blue horizon. They grow fast as we approach them. Tall rocky cliffs surrounded by mist mark their shores, and lush vegetation covers them almost completely. At the edge of a narrow bay, a human settlement emerges in front of our eyes. The surrounding land climbs abruptly from the waves, in some places up to a thousand feet.

The Sun is setting when _Excelsior_ slowly slides into the calm waters of the harbor. Six ships, two of them from the southern lands, are anchored at the quay. Cozy houses cover the slopes around the shore. All the buildings are made of stone, displaying a rustic and simple elegance. The roads near the pier are wide and clean, paved with dark granite rocks.

The island is welcoming us warmly. A small crowd of people hungry for news from the continent gathers on the shore as soon as we lower the anchor. When I set foot on solid ground, men and women engaged in animated conversations have already filled the pier.

The commander of the fort invites our captain, the officers, and the masters for dinner. After eight days at sea, we are more than happy to enjoy the delicacies from the tropics. The locals set a long table on a granite terrace, and we dine surrounded by fireflies under the bright stars of the southern sky.

♣

The next morning, we finish unloading the ammunition and food supplies intended for the fort. Then, most of us have some free time in the afternoon. I chose to spend mine wandering around the town.

As I'm strolling through narrow streets paved with red cobblestones, I glimpse the open door of a small bookstore and decide to take a look inside. A tall man with a white beard salutes me with a bow.

"How are you, sir?" he says. "Anything specific you are looking for, or you're just curious to see what we have for sale?"

He talks with a northern accent, making me wonder what has pushed him to leave our land and open a bookstall in such a place.

"Good afternoon!" I reply. "I'm curious to see what books I can find in a store from the middle of the ocean."

"You're right, it may look like an isolated spot," the man says. "However, ships from many parts of the world pass by, with their people selling and buying books and maps. You are going to be surprised how many such items can end up here."

Indeed, books and maps fill many shelves that cover the walls. Some present the specific wear and tear from years of repeated use, but most are new. I take a couple of tomes from the shelves, browse them quickly, then put them back. I'm impressed by the high diversity of the inventory. However, even if enough ships come and leave this island, probably one every few days, I doubt most of them carry books and maps for trade.

Either this collection had been growing for many years, or someone brought here a large number of prints in a single trip. As most items don't look so old, the second possibility is more tempting. I take some books at random and check their publishing date. They are relatively new, indeed. Yet, why would someone fetch an entire library to an isolated group of islands? And who could do that? Books are neither the cheapest nor the most sought up commodity on isolated islands.

"It doesn't make sense," I begin, turning towards the seller. "How can so many books and maps end up in your store, in such a remote location?"

The man smiles, then he replies:

"Let's say I have gathered them over the years."

I immediately know he is not telling me everything. So, I attempt to drop a hint:

"I'm under the impression that most of your books were published less than a decade ago," I drop a hint. "Someone has come with a whole library of books in here. A full load of books on a single ship. Is that true?"

The seller continues to smile, but he doesn't answer my question. Sometimes the silence is an answer, too. It won't serve me in any way to press him further, so I mumble an apology for being too inquisitive and turn my eyes back toward the shelves.

Most books in the room are navigation books anyway, some in the language of my country, other in foreign tongues. There are also novels, poems, or almanacs. I continue my visual exploration and soon realize I'm not going to find here anything directly related to my interests: science and technology. Well, I suppose this store was still worth a visit.

I thank my host and prepare to leave, when a small volume, bound in dark brown leather and lying on an upper shelf, draws my attention. A single name is visible on the cover, printed with beautiful golden letters: **_Chuang Tzu_**.

Could this be happening? The works of the great thinker translated from Chinese? I open the book with a trembling hand, skip the preface, and read the first lines of the text:

_One: Playful Wandering_

_In the Northern Ocean, there is a fish whose name is Kun. This Kun is huge, measuring I do not know how many thousand li. He turns into a bird named Peng. The back of Peng measures I do not know how many thousand li. When he rises and flies off, his wings are like clouds hanging over the sky. When this bird begins to move over the sea, he sets off for the Southern Ocean. The Southern Ocean is also known as the Lake of Heaven._

I have heard of the great philosopher on several occasions but never had the chance to read his works. I'm delighted to see this masterpiece translated, apparently by a missionary who spent several decades in China. This book was even printed in China by an obscure publishing company. The quality of print and paper is one of the best. Something tells me this is a limited edition. It is a rare book, a gold mine of wisdom and knowledge. I want it.

I turn to the seller and inquire about the price. He asks for a rather large amount of money. I haggle with him for a while. In the end, the man halves the sum, and I buy the volume. It cost me my salary for half a month, but I'm still happy to have access to such rare knowledge.

Most people familiar with Chuang Tzu think of him as being a follower of Lao Tzu. However, he was an original thinker. Sometimes his ideas didn't entirely agree with those of the man regarded as the founder of Taoism. Throughout his book, Chuang Tzu underlines the limits and the relativity of rational understanding. Small and large, good and bad, human society and nature, all are more often than not just arbitrary conventions for the Chinese sage. Instead of promoting a moral life focused on duty, like Confucius, Chuang Tzu preached a carefree existence beyond rules and laws, to become one with the Way.

With the new volume in my pocket, I leave the store and walk towards the highest point of the island. A narrow path through the forest takes me up to an elevated area free of trees. From here, I have an almost unobstructed view in all directions.

The other two islands are marking the scenery towards west and south, like the hulls of two giant ships anchored in peaceful waters. Yet, the ocean's color is the one dominating, with a deep blue surrounding everything up to the skyline. I spend the rest of the afternoon reading until the sky acquires a reddish tint in the area where the Sun slides down towards the horizon.

♣

Two days later, on October 24, _Excelsior_ rises anchor for the return trip. It's a pleasant sunny morning. The military personnel who have ended their duty here are heading back to the mainland as passengers on our brig. Overall, the wind hasn't changed direction, so we'll have to take a longer route on our way home, sailing mostly against it this time. The islands are soon fading away in the mist, sinking into the waters behind the stern.

Whenever I'm not on active duty, I continue to read from my new book. The beautifully printed words flow around me like spirals of light. They mix with the ocean's waves and slowly pour, as through a funnel, into my mind and heart. Chuang Tzu's words are changing me, the sky, and the ocean. The whole world is subtly transforming into something else in a way difficult to describe.

The journey back goes on without any notable events. After ten days, we enter the picturesque port of our city. It is the evening of the 3rd day of November. I have almost fully recovered from my injuries. My left shoulder still has a strange triangular greenish scar, headaches torment me once in a while, and my dreams are much more vivid and tiring than they used to be. But otherwise, I feel all right.

The crew is off duty for three days. Then the ship will begin a patrolling trip along the coast. This mission is going to last about a week. I'm also free during this period. I decide to spend it visiting the art museum to see if anything interesting has shown up there. Then I plan to check for new titles in the bookstores and libraries around the city.

I should have been a scientist, not an officer in the Navy. However, if I turn my thoughts towards my past, life has not given me many options. Yet, as I hope to climb in rank in time, I want to involve more science in my work. Eventually, I'd like to be in charge of a ship that sails as part of a scientific expedition towards far-away, unexplored realms.

♣

_November 6_ — The last morning before setting sail is spreading its wings to the horizon. I take a walk through the city along a street that crosses the market. As I pass by, some trees are already shedding yellow leaves over my head and shoulders.

This area is a lively place, animated by crowds of merchants from many parts of the world. People sell the most diverse things, from bread and fish to clothes and weapons. Once in a while, you can discover exotic items from places almost unheard-of.

I notice an old woman dressed in a gray robe. She sits behind a dark wooden table covered by a cluster of silk scarfs. The colored items, spread over the tilted surface, shine like a rainbow in the warm rays of the Sun. The woman's features look Asian, like those of many people from across the Ocean. They stand proof that she used to be quite beautiful in her youth. When I pass by, her green eyes follow me with interest.

I bow my head slightly towards the seller and attempt to step further along the crowded alley.

"Could you stop for a moment, please?" her voice breaks in with a pleasant tone. "You have an unusual aura around you and seem tormented by many questions."

Despite her exotic appearance, she speaks with the standard local accent used by the people native to this city. Why would she single me out from the large crowd of men and women who pass by? Do I look like a potential customer to her?

"You can't be serious," I counter, shrugging. "I am an ordinary person. If some questions bother me, I don't spend more time on them than other people do."

Without waiting for a reply, I turn away and prepare to continue my walk, but her voice echoes again from behind:

"You have been touched by the green light, haven't you?"

My feet halt from their forward motion. I turn around and step closer to her stand.

"How do you know about it?" I retort, caught by surprise.

She replies with a broad smile, displaying perfect teeth:

"As I have just said, there is an unusual aura around you."

I have no idea how she can see this so-called aura or what this aura is. Nonetheless, I need to give her credit for an impressive spirit of observation. She intrigues me, and I should like to find out more about what she knows related to the green light experienced during that storm. So, I tell her:

"You seem to know a lot about this green light, how come you are so familiar with it?"

"Can you spare some time right now? I'd like to show you a few things from my little shop. You might find them interesting".

Still hesitating, I sway back and forth for a few moments, then I make up my mind and decide to give course to her invitation.

"All right," I say. "I shall come to your store."

The woman produces another charming smile, and her green eyes brighten. She packs with expert motions all her items for sale, gesturing me to follow her. I offer to carry her bag as we start walking together. She accepts my help with a nod, and her smile widens.

Despite containing only scarfs, the bag is way too light. Even for silk, I find its lack of weight puzzling. I feel like I'm carrying an empty paper bag. What material are these scarfs made?

Questions after questions are piling up in my mind. However, I choose to be patient for the time being and delay asking them until we reach our destination. We turn corners on narrow streets, climbing steep stairs in the old quarter of the city. As I introduce myself, I find out that her name is Mei Hsing. It means "Beautiful Star" in Chinese.

Golden leaves pushed by the cool breeze rustle under our feet, like pages from an unwritten book. On a back street, we arrive at a door painted in black and green, with beautiful characters written above it. Although most Chinese inscriptions are written vertically, this one has been set up in a horizontal line. I would translate the writing as "Wings of the Sea." Mei Hsing takes a key from her pocket and unlocks the store's entrance.

She opens the door, and we step into a warehouse with the walls covered by shelves filled with fancy Chinese garments. The clothes display intricate patterns of red, green, and blue. A faint scent of cinnamon is floating in the air. A long bench lines the wall on the right, and a massive mahogany counter fills the left side of the room. Two arched windows mark the back of the store, opening towards a circular garden covered by red and yellow flowers.

I turn my eyes up and find a painting hanging above the counter. It's the portrait of a beautiful young woman holding a rose in her hand and smiling. Long black hair is spread behind her shoulders, framing an oval face with pale skin, arched eyebrows, big dark eyes, full lips, and a delicate nose. I have the feeling I have seen her somewhere before, yet I cannot recall where exactly. With a gesture, the old lady invites me to sit on the bench.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," she says. Then, skipping any other introductory conversation, she adds: "Do you have any green scars on your body?"

Taken by surprise by her direct question, I hesitate for a moment. Yet, there is no point in keeping my wound secret. So, I decide to tell her the truth:

"I do have a fading scar on my left shoulder. It has the shape of a triangle. But how do you know about it?"

"I shall answer your questions later. First of all, please tell me how you've got the mark," counters the merchant, avoiding an answer.

I begin a detailed account of my trip to the Southern Seas. I describe the storm and the lightning strikes, the strange visions I had after each electrical discharge that hit me, and finally, Chuang Tzu's volume bought in the small bookstore from the middle of the ocean.

Time flows slowly, its passing marked by periodic bird chirps from outside. As I keep going, Mei Hsing steps behind the counter and starts the fire in a cylindrical metal stove. About fifteen minutes later, she produces a tray with a steaming teapot and two porcelain cups. She sets it on the bench, then her hand pours the tea into the cups and offers me one. I take a short break from my narrative, and we both sip from the steaming green liquid.

Clouds like white manes cross patches of sky framed by the tall windows. I set my empty cup down on the table and continue my tale. Mei Hsing never interrupts me, fully immersed in my adventures. About half an hour later, my story reaches its end. We sit silently on the bench for a few more moments as if a magic spell was in place, and any new words would damage it.

"Show me the scar, please!" the merchant requests.

I obey, taking off my coat and shirt and displaying my left shoulder. She looks at the mark with interest. The scar used to be more visible two weeks ago. Now, the green has faded a bit, and the skin is returning to its natural color.

"Do you still feel any pain there?" her next question comes.

"Sometimes it bothers me, but not as much as two weeks ago," I reply in a low voice.

Mei Hsing continues to gaze at my scar in silence for another minute, absorbed in thoughts.

"This is related to the Island," she decides, on a resolute tone.

The emphasis on the first letter of the word "island" is so strong that I can literary hear the capital "I" in the name. Could she mean the famous Island from fairy tales, a myth so old and so widespread among the sailors?

"Are you talking about the Island from the legends, the mysterious place where gold was as common and cheap as wood?" I venture to ask after a short pause.

"Yes, I do. And the Island is not a legend; it is as real as you and me. I've been there myself, fifty years ago. You should know, the Island is not in our world; it exists inside another reality. Sometimes, paths that connect Earth with that realm open. When this happens, people can travel on them and visit that place.

"Almost all the people touched by the green light end up visiting the Island. Some come back; some don't. Yet, it's better to know in advance about the trip that awaits you. It's better to be prepared when it happens. If you allow me, I should like to treat your wound so that it doesn't bother you anymore."

Mei Hsing produces a rectangular box from a drawer. She opens the lid, takes a small quantity of green jelly from inside, and spreads it over the scar from my shoulder. As the medicine sinks in, I immediately feel a mild burning sensation followed by a pleasant chilliness.

A few seconds later, the skin has recovered its natural color. The scar is gone. Incredulous, I touch my shoulder. There is no trace on it, nothing to suggest I ever had a mark there. I reach into my pocket and take out a few silver coins, intending to pay for the treatment.

"No need," Mei Hsing says with a determined gesture. "I didn't invite you here to get your money. Your story was a payment in itself, and the information from it is going to be very useful to me, too."

I have no idea how she could benefit from my story, but I suppose this was her real reason for inviting me here. We certainly met under strange circumstances: an Asian woman with green eyes who sells silk scarfs made of unusually light silk has picked me in the market to heal a wound on my shoulder that she couldn't possibly know about.

"The color of your eyes is uncommon for someone with Asian ancestry," I ponder, cautiously, another question.

"That's because I come from a special region of Asia," she replies with an intense gaze.

"And where is that region?" I continue to press for a more detailed answer.

"Near the tallest mountains in the world, a place few people from outside ever venture to visit. Let me show you something first."

She steps again behind the counter and comes back with a small transparent globe. With a solemn expression, she passes the sphere into my hands. It's heavier than expected and seems made of dark-blue glass. Her voice cuts in as soon as I get hold of the object:

"Please look inside it!

I don't notice anything unusual for the first few seconds. Then the sphere gradually catches a life of its own. I can see within its boundaries a city spread over the rocky slopes of a foreign shore. Palaces, parks, ivory towers, and houses with golden roofs grow in front of my eyes. Under a blue-green sky, sea waves are crashing onto the pier, and white clouds are moving across the horizon. The view is expanding, engulfing me, while the storeroom is melting away.

Her voice seems to come from a long distance, and I can't understand what she says. Words from a foreign language similar to Latin punctuate her phrases. My eyes are closing with a will of their own. Did she put something in my tea? An alarm bell is splitting my thoughts, ringing with desperate persistence. Now she is going to kill me, or tie me up, then ship me away to work as a slave in a remote country. I'm struggling for a few more long moments against the overwhelming strength of the drowsiness but without success.

♣

_In the beginning was the light, and the light will continue to shine, dancing through the Universe after everything else has perished._

The rays of the Sun are caressing my eyelids in a gentle touch. I open my eyes and stretch my arms. It's already late afternoon, and the familiar walls of my rented apartment meet my gaze. I'm in my bed, wearing only a pair of linen pants, with Chuang Tzu's book lying next to my pillow. How did I get back here? What happened after I looked inside the crystal globe? I don't remember anything past that moment. I was there, in the store, with the old Asian woman, and now I'm here, in my room. Perhaps she has erased my memory through some exotic hypnosis technique? Or maybe I have dreamed about the whole thing?

My left shoulder feels pleasantly warm. I turn my head and examine it through the corner of my eye. The green scar is gone! As the days passed, it appeared more and more faded, yet I didn't expect the mark to disappear for at least another month or so. Was it erased so quickly by the Sun's rays while I was sleeping here, dreaming about my walk through the city? Or did the old woman heal for real it with her mysterious ointment? There is no trace of medicine left on my shoulder, anyway. Even if there was something, it had plenty of time to be absorbed by the skin. The green ointment had no smell, so sniffing it is useless. A quick inspection of my shirt finds no trace of medicine on it, either.

There is only one way to find out what happened. I remember the store's address. If I haven't dreamed of this encounter, the door with the Chinese calligraphy above it should still be there. I shall go outside right now, find Mei Hsing, and ask her for more information.

Thirty minutes later, I climb the slope of the paved road that goes to the mysterious store from the Old City. All the details are the way I remember them from my visit this morning (or maybe from my dream). From the back street facing the harbor, I'm looking for the door with the Chinese calligraphy above it. However, when I arrive at the place from this morning, I find a grocery store instead. Inside, a middle-aged man with a thick mustache sits behind the counter, selling bread, cheese, and smoked fish. He doesn't have any customers right now. I step in.

"Good afternoon! Do you know about a store selling Chinese clothes in this area?" I ask him.

"No, sir! I don't know of any such place," the man replies.

My puzzled expression makes him add:

"I've had this business here for over twenty years, and I'm well acquainted with the whole neighborhood. There never was a store selling Chinese clothes on this street. However, there used to be a shop that might fit your description two streets down, closer to the harbor."

I thank him and walk towards the suggested address. The store is there, as described. Through large windows, I can glimpse rows after rows of garments, neatly wrapped and set on beautiful oak shelves carved with exquisite oriental characters. They are similar to those I saw at Mei Hsing's place.

A few customers, most of them with Oriental features, are examining some of them. A young woman, also Asian-looking, is standing near the open entrance, dressed in an orange robe. As I step towards her, she smiles and invites me in. Her voice has a melodious Chinese accent:

"Please come in, sir!"

I begin, tentatively:

"Good afternoon! I'm actually looking for another store. It's called Wings of the Sea and has to be somewhere near. It belongs to a woman named Mei Hsing."

The seller pauses for a few moments, then responds:

"There is no such store anywhere in the city. However, someone with this name used to live nearby. Five, maybe six years ago, she had a little shop near the harbor area, named Dreams of Silk. I was still a teenager back then, and we used to invite her once in a while at our home. There, my parents would talk to her about trade, share gossip, and play mahjong. Her selling stand in the market was closer to the pier."

Then, after another pause, she continues:

"I remember clearly now. Six years ago, Mei Hsing told us she wanted to move back to China and start a new business there. She intended to sell western merchandise in Canton and thought she could turn a store there into a very profitable enterprise. She left at the end of November, and I've never heard of her again. I hope she is in good health and doing well."

I thank the seller, take my leave from the shop, and go back into the maze of streets that crisscross the city. Walking around the pier, I keep asking passersby about a nearby store named Wings of the Sea that sells Chinese garments. However, nobody has ever heard of it.

After a while, I realize that any further search is useless. Yet, I continue to wander through the crowded alleys, letting my thoughts come and go, like the clouds floating on the sky above, until my heartbeats slow down, and my spirit becomes peaceful again.

Three hours later, with my eyes reflecting the shimmering light of the first stars, I return to my room. Everything that happened today makes me feel like I have slipped for a few hours into another place and time.

The Asian woman and her store have vanished, and I can't recall what she told me at the end of our meeting. I vaguely remember hearing Mei Hsing's voice describing the Island and the city there while I was gazing intently into the dark globe. She talked about herself and my future, but everything she said had already been erased from my memory when I woke up in my room.

There are no more paths to follow. The only reasonable thing to do is to go ahead with my life, like before. Perhaps everything was a dream, after all.

_A mirror reflecting another mirror. What would it show?_

## Part 2:

## Butterfly's Dream

### alpha

_New beginnings are rising before every beginning, and more ends are setting beyond every end._

**Elessyos of Miletus**

* * *

Timeless and mysterious like a beautiful woman, the Island lured and enchanted the imagination of many nations. Her main urban center, dominating the sea from the high slopes of a rocky shore, displayed the elegant and stern style of the Greek cities from Antiquity. The locals, young and handsome, lived in imposing houses two or three floors high, made of colored marble bricks. Doric columns decorated most of these buildings, often wrapped in green ivy tendrils. The city looked at the same time ancient and modern, giving the place a mixed fragrance of eternity and impermanence.

Streets paved with hexagonal blocks of granite crossed at right angles, dividing the city into regular segments. At well-defined intervals, plazas with statues, silver wells, and exotic trees filled the landscape with a multitude of shapes and colors. Besides, tall ivory towers made of an unknown type of stone guarded the metropolis at its fringes.

Yet, more than anything else that defined her, the source for the Island's fame and prosperity that attracted, like a magnet, people from everywhere was the gold. It could be found in large quantities in every place, from her shores to the mountains nearby. The gold, in various alloys, made up the roof tiles, the frames and hinges for doors or windows, plates and cups, most tools, some weapons, and pretty much everything else that needed the use of cheap metal.

Despite having this place called in one way or another by different cultures who entered or left at some point the center stage of history, the names faded away under the relentless flow of time. The only appellation that endured was "the Island."

You are not going to see the Island on any map, be it old or contemporary. When setting sail across the rough seas, the sailors only knew her approximate direction, and no one could say exactly how large or how far away she was. Some hundreds of miles off her beaches, the ships' compasses would begin spinning quickly, the constellations would become unrecognizable, and the Sun would rise every day from an unexpected direction.

The only way to maintain the vessel's course was to monitor the momentary direction of movement related to Sun, Moon, or stars. Speed estimates could be done by periodically launching a chip log into the water over the stern, letting the log-line out for a fixed amount of time, and counting the knots that passed by the ship's frame. While this satisfactorily worked when navigating on a calm sea, powerful storms haunted this part of the Ocean most of the year. The sky was almost always covered by clouds, leaving no orientation benchmarks. The ships could never find the Island by themselves. It was the Island that would eventually allow some of them to reach her shores.

Hence, only a few dozen vessels could ever visit this strange place. Unsurprisingly, the vast majority had reached it when the weather was good. Those adventurers came safely back to their home ports, giving detailed accounts about their experiences. Had they not returned loaded with impressive amounts of gold, the rest of the world would have thought of the Island as being only a myth.

Decades flew by, then centuries passed. The human race evolved, the technology improved. Faster ships began crossing the Ocean back and forth, cataloging and mapping every single piece of land, every single rock rising above the foamy waves. However, only the open sea met them in that part of the world where the Island was supposed to exist.

And so, a region of the Ocean that used to be shrouded in mystery gradually became a place where dozens of transit routes for commercial vessels met. Nobody could explain the new situation. The common opinion arising later among scholars was that the Island had submerged into the liquid abyss during a powerful earthquake.

♣

The current year was 1795. _Excelsior_ , a military brig with a crew of one hundred and twenty, was sailing along the coast, carrying weapons and ammunition to the northernmost fort of her country. The weather was good, and the trip promised to be short and enjoyable. However, the ship disappeared without a trace around the date of June 12, failing to reach her destination.

Preliminary searches found no wreckage or survivors, and it was assumed that _Excelsior_ must have hit an uncharted rock. Perhaps the accident had happened at night, the ship sank too fast, and the crew could not launch the boats in time. Or maybe the vessel had encountered a powerful water tornado and got destroyed in a few minutes, before anyone had a chance to escape.

Nonetheless, three months later, on September 14, _Excelsior_ unexpectedly appeared at the entrance of her base harbor. She was in good condition and soon dropped her anchor at the pier. Thirty-one members of the crew were missing, but the survivors were in good health and ready to tell the world a most unusual story. A story about a strange realm, from a different space and time, was about to begin.

### beta

The personal log of Alberto Shimada

_June 11, 8 p.m. —_ Our journey has been quiet and peaceful so far. The sea is calm, we have a steady wind from the stern and hope to reach our destination in three days. This afternoon, a group of eight dolphins escorted the ship for about thirty minutes, jumping in and out of the water, sometimes almost up to the height of the gunwale. I have always felt strange seeing the dolphins being so friendly towards us, humans.

As the second lieutenant on board _Excelsior_ , I am in charge of the crew's shifts, the weather observations, and any science-related events that could be of interest during our expedition. However, I don't expect to encounter anything unusual during this short and routine trip.

_June 12, 10 a.m. —_ I have just been proven wrong about my previous log entry. At sunrise, the navigation compass began to spin back and forth, becoming ineffective for navigation. It seems we have encountered a magnetic anomaly and are still under its influence. There is no shoreline in sight. All we can do is keep the helm straight and use the Sun as a reference for our orientation. However, the Sun is going to disappear soon behind a compact layer of gray clouds, making our task significantly more difficult. Bursts of wind are intermittently slapping our sails from random directions. The captain has ordered the chip log launched from the stern, for a speed estimate.

_1 p.m. —_ Thunderclouds are gathering from the east. They are pushed by the wind towards us and look threatening. The sea is still calm, but we cannot avoid the incoming storm. Fortunately, the compass has stabilized back.

_4 p.m. —_ Most sails are already stowed, ready to face nature's fury. The wind's strength has decreased for the moment, but it's going to transform into a gale before long. The sky above is black, periodically sliced by lightning flashes. Even for someone who has seen sea storms before, we've got a terrifying view today: a realm where the hell itself appears to have switched places with heaven and is preparing to crash on our heads. The sea surface looks glassy, covered by dark ripples that are gradually turning into long rows of unfriendly waves. The rain hasn't begun to fall yet, but soon will. A feeling of anticipation, like ahead of an intense battle, is reigning on the deck.

_8 p.m. —_ The storm is at its peak. Huge waves are sweeping over our ship. The ocean from below and the rain from above meet on the deck in frantic turmoil. Mighty water fists are battering the hull, coming from all directions. With difficulty, we can still approximately maintain our course. Several members of the crew suffer from seasickness, and I'm not far from it myself.

_11 p.m. —_ _Excelsior_ was fortunate and survived the battle with the elements with relatively little damage. A flat calm surrounds us now, under a sky still covered by gray clouds. The wind has stopped, and the ship floats immobile in unfamiliar waters. No waves, not even small ripples, are disturbing the ocean's surface, making it look like an endless mirror made of shiny metal. The water is radiating a strange blue color, probably given by millions of tiny light-emitting creatures. We continue to wait for the return of the breeze.

_June 13, 9 a.m. —_ The wind has started to blow again, and we are finally moving. What scared us this morning was the green tint of the Sun. The Sun seems bigger and paler, too. No one onboard has ever experienced something like this before. I have no idea what atmospheric phenomena can generate such strange effects.

I came on the deck with my sextant and checked the Sun's angular diameter. Instead of the expected value close to thirty-two minutes, I've got thirty-nine. That's too large by more than twenty percent.

There is no way the Sun has grown bigger overnight. Everything in my mind refuses to believe that. I suppose a peculiar dispersion of light is to blame. I don't understand the source of this green tint, but it might be an unknown substance in the higher atmosphere, something that, when heated by sunlight, acts as a magnifying glass and makes the Sun look larger. How does it do it, I don't have the slightest idea. Perhaps when we come back to the city, some scholar who knows more optics than I do can explain it to me. Soon after my measurement, the green tint spread over the whole sky.

_2 p.m. —_ Our ship continues to sail towards the north. At noon, the man on watch called out from the main topgallant platform, signaling land. It's an odd situation because we are supposed to have only open sea in this area. From the available facts, the only logical explanation is that we've lost our way while still affected by the magnetic anomaly. Perhaps the compass continued to point in the wrong direction even after it had stabilized back. Curiously, a latitude measurement at noon gave us a value close to the one expected.

The captain ordered a route change towards the newly found shore, as it is not too far away. Once there, we could hopefully identify the place and pinpoint our location. Then, it would be easy to correct the vessel's course.

The sky still has this unusual blue-green color, and the Sun's angular diameter is still thirty-nine minutes, as it was in the morning. I'd really like to understand how this green tint magnifies the apparent size of the celestial bodies. When the Moon appears tonight, I plan to check its diameter, too.

_7 p.m. —_ The shore glimpsed in the early afternoon turned to be part of a large piece of land. We reached it at around 4 p.m. As we came closer, a semicircular harbor with a tall quay appeared ahead. It looked as shaped by the edge of a giant fan. Beyond the port, a picturesque city filled the rocky coast. Palaces, buildings with shiny roofs covered in ivy, and tall towers filled the landscape.

The city extended all the way to the ocean on both sides of the pier. It stretched over more than two miles as if holding the port in a protective embrace. The houses displayed an exotic architectural style, similar to the Greek cities from Antiquity, appearing at the same time imposing and graceful. Looking at the towers, who were about one hundred and fifty feet tall, I wondered about their purpose. They all had circular platforms on top, perhaps designed to be used by archers. I counted twenty-five such structures.

I hadn't seen any city like this before. None of us could recognize this place. None of us had any idea where we were now. As I was looking at the strange landscape, _Excelsior_ cast anchor close to the pier. Two narrow mobile bridges soon connected her gunwale to the quay. Several wide roads made of hundreds of stone steps unfolded along the slope towards the high promontory.

"We shall find out soon what's going on here," the captain said, and about fifty members of our crew, myself included, went ashore.

I immediately noticed how the roofs of the buildings appeared neat and shiny. They seemed made of yellow metal tiles that looked like gold. Of course, there was no way this was gold because nobody could afford such an extravagance for a whole city. Or that's what I thought at first, anyway.

Then I remembered the legend about the Island. I remembered my trip from the previous year to the Southern Islands and the surreal meeting (or maybe it had been only a dream?) with Mei Hsing, the elderly Chinese woman who was selling oriental clothes in our metropolis. These memories made me freeze. What if the ancient stories were true? I looked at the captain's face, and his expression showed me that he also knew where we were.

The natives, with features and skin color surprisingly close to ours, showed up on the pier wearing colored robes, green being the most common. Most looked young and handsome, with only a few middle-aged people in the crowd. Through large gestures, they invited everybody to a Gothic-style palace situated a little further uphill.

Dressed in a sumptuous blue robe and wearing a silver crown on his head, the local king was waiting, seated on a wooden chair. He was a tall man in his forties, with muscular arms and broad shoulders. Long black hair and a short beard of the same color framed his face. Under thick eyebrows, a pair of dark eyes with a piercing gaze suggested a person who liked to be in command. The nose, straight and narrow, and a mouth with thin lips gave him a distinguished appearance.

Behind the king, a palace with blue walls and hexagonal towers was reflecting the bright red colors of the sunset. The monarch smiled and motioned us to follow him on a terrace, where the locals had already set up long tables full of foods and drinks. An interpreter who could satisfactorily speak our language was standing nearby. Through him, the king welcomed us to his city.

The speech of the locals had a musical sound and gave me the feeling that many of their words were of European origin. It was probably close to Latin but also had noticeable differences from that. The words' ends were confusing and prevented me from understanding the spoken sentences. Was this a creole talk created from the languages spoken by those who had visited this place? Where had the Island's inhabitants come from, anyway?

The king asked us why our people had not paid them a visit in such a long time. The captain told him what he knew from our legends. He explained how only a few dozen ships were able to find the Island in the past, and how this place could not be reached in recent times anymore. Everybody believed it had disappeared underwater after a powerful earthquake.

"Yes, every time people from your country come here, they complain about the difficulty in finding our city," the king commented through the interpreter. "Then they want to trade almost all their cargo for our cheap yellow metal. We shall be glad to do business with you, too. However, before that, please have dinner with us. We have prepared our best meal to honor your visit. I am confident you will find it delicious."

A few minutes later, I had to agree with the monarch: the dinner was a real feast. The local food came in many courses, mixed with spices and based mostly on fish and fruits. Everything we were eating had an exotic taste. When the night fell, instead of candles, they brought many crystal globes that radiated a calming yellow light. And yes, all the cups, plates, roof tiles, and most of the metal objects I could see around me were made of gold. Could this be the paradise on Earth? But were we still on Earth?

### gamma

_Date missing —_ A few days have passed since my last entry here. In the meantime, I have become a prisoner of this world. The paradise that initially welcomed us to this shore became hell. I shall put now on paper the recent events while they are still fresh in my memory.

That night of June 13, the dinner at the palace looked like a gift from heaven. The captain, sitting next to the king, began talking about trade. We were going to be rich: so rich that none of us would ever have to work again. All the officers and sailors were happy and relaxed. Despite the widespread skepticism about the existence of this place, despite lacking contemporary proofs of any recent trips to this _El Dorado_ , we had actually found the Island!

After a while, having my stomach filled with delicious food, I was curious to explore the city. So, I requested permission to go out from both the king and my captain. They kindly allowed me to wander around by myself. Still, they asked me not to carry any weapons while walking on the streets. I left my sword and gun in the hands of an armorer and strode out from the terrace. The rest of the crew continued to enjoy the feast.

I'd heard and read so many things about this place that I really wanted to take a better look at it, even from the first hours of my presence here. Nobody else from _Excelsior_ offered to accompany me, and I didn't ask anyone to come. As I always like to see and discover new places on my own, I also declined to take a local guide.

Soon, I was walking uphill on a boulevard paved with granite stones, lit on both sides by the same strange yellow globes. Most buildings here were made of white marble blocks. They were massive and rectangular, with Doric columns marking their edges and ivy tendrils covering their walls.

The windows and doors were constructed from an unknown species of reddish wood while the roofs, most of them double-sloping, were all covered with gold tiles. Because gold is quite heavy, I assumed the tiles had to be made of clay or wood plated with a thin layer of the precious metal. I couldn't check them from the street, anyway.

Some houses had only one floor while the tallest displayed up to five. Gardens with exotic flowers and trees would sometimes separate the edifices, every fifty yards or so. Far away, near the outer edge of the urban center, I could glimpse once in a while one of the white towers. It made me think of a finger aiming towards the dark sky. And so I continued my stroll, getting all my senses filled up with the city and its atmosphere. This was my way of getting acquainted with a new place: its exploration on foot.

Here and there, people would pass by at some distance, dressed in most cases in long colored robes. Overall, the locals looked similar to my people. Everybody's hair was dark, their skin pale. The men were tall, athletic, and handsome. Most women wore their hair long, spread behind their shoulders, and were quite beautiful. Some of them would stare at me for a few moments, for I stood out like a stranger, due to my clothes.

As I was moving across the city, I found it curious that I couldn't see on the streets a single old person. Maybe the late hour was to blame? Perhaps the senior citizens preferred to spend most of their time indoors? Who could tell what other strange local habits existed in this place?

Walking towards the city center, I noticed how the slope's angle was slowly decreasing. I felt like I was climbing on the surface of an enormous sphere. I soon stepped into a plaza, at the edge of a plateau that connected the shore with the Island's inner lands.

A statue of a man standing in a heroic pose dominated the scenery in the midpoint. He was holding in his outstretched right hand a broad sword. Of course, even this statue was made of gold or at least covered with a thin layer of it. There was an inscription in front of the sculpture, written in an alphabet with rounded shapes, totally unfamiliar to me. I could not read it; therefore, I couldn't find out who the man was.

I crossed then the empty square and let my feet carry me farther, towards a park with narrow alleys paved with shiny black stones and shadowed by trees similar to birches, but with larger leaves. Here, I laid down on the grass for a moment and looked at the sky. I gasped, gazing at the stars in astonishment and not understanding what was going on.

All the heavenly bodies and constellations so familiar to me were now completely changed, unrecognizable even to my eyes, well-trained in celestial navigation on both hemispheres. The legends about the Island had mentioned this phenomenon, yet I thought of it as being only a metaphor. Now I was confronted with its stern reality. I could still see the white band of the Milky Way dividing the sky. Nevertheless, even this feature was too wide, too bright. Everything visible high up appeared strange, foreign, and unsettling. The Moon, in its full phase, rose above the horizon soon after that.

It was an incredibly large moon. I stretched my hand and compared the size of my little finger's nail to its diameter. The object from the sky was more than twice the size of the Moon I knew. Its disk had a bluish tint. Its surface features, clearly visible to the naked eye, appeared entirely different. That was the moment I realized we were not on Earth anymore.

With my heart pounding, I decided to continue my exploration a little longer, walking farther inland. The alleys faded away, and the park gradually turned into a real forest. A smell of moss and dead leaves surrounded me immediately. I was stepping now onto soft, elastic grass, under trees with crowns enveloped by a blue, eerie halo of light. I could glimpse here and there, deeper inside the woods, unusual white elongated objects lying motionless on the ground. They were shaped like huge cocoons and seemed slightly larger than a human body. As if they were coffins.

I didn't like this analogy pulled out from the deep layers of my mind, so I decided to come closer and take a better look at the strange shapes, hoping to find something that contradicted my thoughts. As my steps were carrying me towards them, I could see more and more such white shrouds filling the forest. They were just large enough to fit a human body inside.

I soon found a cocoon nearby, with fewer threads around it, not fully horizontal but folded in the middle and with the upper half lying against the thick trunk of a tree. An old man dressed in a gray robe was inside. His body was partly enveloped in this shiny material.

I moved towards him and stopped at arm's length from the fuzzy shroud. The man's eyes were shut. He seemed dead. At a careful look, I could spot in the pale moonlight white threads that were spun in the air by an invisible hand. As I bent down to take a better look at them, the old man opened his eyes and looked straight at me. His gaze was more than I could stand. The uneasy atmosphere of this strange place blew up with full force into my face. I turned quickly away and began running back towards the palace, crossing the square in a hurry and descending, like a storm, to the shore.

I wanted to be among my people again as soon as possible. I had to tell the captain about my new findings and my worries. The hands of my pocket watch showed it was already five minutes past 10. The streets were almost empty. In the silence of the night, I could hear the rhythmic echoes generated by my footsteps reverberating on the pavement. As I was rushing downhill, I glimpsed something like a giant snake rising from the king's palace. It flew high above my head and disappeared into the darkness.

♣

I was near the king's residence now, tired and breathing heavily from my long run. Cold drops of sweat were pouring along my forehead. Yet, something felt wrong and unsettling here, too. The building was too quiet. The atmosphere had turned tense and threatening.

A few moments later, the calm was broken by several gunshots. I saw many local soldiers in red uniforms, armed with halberds and spears, pouring from the nearby buildings onto the street. It seemed a fight had broken out between our men and the natives. Unnoticed, I came a bit closer and waited for a short while on the other side of the alley.

The captain, followed by officers and sailors, all with swords and pistols in their hands, burst out through the open door of the palace. A moment later, they knocked down the guards waiting in front of the king's residence. Then my crew-mates began running towards the quay, pursued by a group of locals. I rushed after them, coming from behind as fast as I could, trying to shorten the distance that still kept me apart from my people.

However, a group of about fifty soldiers unexpectedly appeared from a side street and blocked my path before I had a chance to go any farther. I was unarmed, so I slowed down, pretending to be a local and trying to pass the troops by the roadside.

I had no luck. One of the officers turned his head in my direction and noticed my uniform. He shouted something. Two men began immediately running towards me. Their halberds were glittering in the moonlight, ready to kill. The blades of their weapons were made of sharp steel, fully capable of cutting in half with a single strike any unarmed individual. I was forced to run back as fast as my legs could carry me.

A few dozen steps farther, I saw my path blocked again by another soldier who was agitating a long spear in his hands. I ran directly towards him. Then, when I was just one step away from his reach, exactly when he was preparing to strike my chest, I crouched and rolled head-down onto the pavement, bending my knees and quickly turning along the ground on my left shoulder and right hip. The sharp point of his weapon hit too high, missing me by about ten inches. My feet, ending the rotation, touched the ground again a fraction of a second later.

From my low position, I immediately sprang up in the air, too close for him to make use of his spear now, and grabbed the back of his neck with both hands. My left knee hit the man painfully in the stomach, throwing him to the ground, where he fell like a bag of flour and remained motionless. The thought of taking his weapon and fighting my pursuers crossed my mind for a moment. But there were too many of them coming from the shore. Putting as much distance as possible between me and my chasers was the only realistic option to stay alive. So, I continued to run. The spear was too heavy to carry, anyway.

I could glimpse behind me more and more soldiers filling the road and moving towards the quay. Loud gunshots could be heard once in a while. Sounds of steel hitting steel were cutting the darkness, cries of anger and pain were filling the night.

Panting and coughing, I turned a corner, planning to get back to my ship by making a detour uphill, passing through less-crowded streets, and avoiding any direct path that was at risk of crossing the battle area. I was also hoping to lose my pursuers in the process. It was going to take longer, but I still believed I could arrive soon and in relative safety at the shore. Right at that moment, the cannons from _Excelsior_ began shooting, their thundering noise shaking the darkness and the windows of the buildings near the pier. Before leaving the main street, I noticed several bodies lying on the ground. They belonged to the Islanders.

Threatening shouts and footsteps were echoing nearby. I had to keep moving, turning right or left at every crossroad while the sound of the waves hitting the shore got louder and louder. Gradually, the streets became narrower. Soon, I found my escaping path blocked by a dead end. Stopping here was not an option. I was clueless about what had caused the conflict. However, under the circumstances, I felt no desire to find out the root of discord between my men and the Islanders.

I had just narrowly escaped that spear strike a few minutes earlier. I knew I was going to meet my Maker if the soldiers surrounded me. At any rate, being unarmed didn't give me any realistic chance of defending myself. My mind was searching desperately for a way out.

A balcony hung on a wall, right above me and within my reach. Fear gave me wings. I jumped high in the air and grabbed its lower end, pulling my body toward its edge. When my chasers arrived at the scene, I was already on the housetop, running along a narrow crest covered with gold tiles. Fortunately, the tiles felt solid under my soles and weren't giving way under my weight. Also, the roof slopes were at a low angle, and their surface wasn't slippery. So, I could go on with my running almost as fast as on the streets below.

I continued my race to the harbor, leaping from a housetop to another. Luck was on my side this time: the buildings in this part of the city were two floors high and close to each other. They offered a useable route to the shore.

In the bright moonlight, I could now see the battle on the pier. Some of my people were lying down there, too. The survivors had already crossed the light mobile bridges that connected our vessel to the quay and were back on the deck. Our ship's cannons bombarded the city's exposed streets from the higher slopes, inflicting a lot of damage to the enemy fighters. Her hull and masts were wrapped now in a thin cloud of white smoke.

A few groups of locals were trying to shot at _Excelsior_ with burning arrows. Yet, they were too far away to cause any harm. For some unknown reason, their archers were still not using the platforms on top of the white towers. Maybe they hadn't had time to climb there and hoped to catch us from a close distance while our ship was still near the quay.

Thousands of armed natives began advancing toward the pier, preparing to fight our crew with swords, spears, and arrows. Even though our weapons were superior, it was impossible to win a battle against so many enemies. The mobile footbridges were lifted from _Excelsior_ 's gunwale, immediately leaving a wide gap between the quay and our ship's hull. Right then, I glimpsed a few archers aiming in my direction as I was running along the high roofs. Luckily, they were too far away to put me in any real danger.

I realized it was too late to go directly back to the ship. The area near the harbor was already full of enemy troops. Running along the roofs as fast as I could, I had to find another way out. Seen from the tops of the buildings, the city, with its long streets intersecting at right angles, looked like a giant board of go. A board where I was an isolated stone, trying with desperation to find allied connections that would bring me out of the enemy's deadly trap.

I decided to take an even longer detour: run to the city's outskirts and reach the shore there. Then, I would either steal a boat or jump into the sea and swim towards our vessel until I could reach her safely, far away from the locals occupying the pier. If I wanted to succeed, I needed to move even faster, because more and more shouts and footsteps were audible on the streets below, running parallel with my path. I could also glimpse now four or five soldiers trotting on the roofs behind me. My only option remained to keep racing, no matter how tired I was.

Hot sweat was pouring along my face while I was breathing hard from the continuous strain. I had to be thankful for the past military drills: they had built up my stamina to a level where I could cope with such a situation. My strength and endurance kept my hopes of survival alive.

I went on running and leaping from one roof to another, managing to prevent my pursuers from getting too close to me. When I finally arrived at the city outskirts, ready to jump on the ground and dash towards the sea, I saw _Excelsior_ moving away at full speed.

I was still hoping to either get a boat or swim towards my ship. However, it looked like the locals had anticipated my intention. Squadrons of soldiers were patrolling the coastline to the farthest suburbs of the city. To reach the shore, I had to pass them. And that was not possible.

From the towers flanking the pier, archers were shooting burning arrows at _Excelsior_. However, our vessel was already out of their reach, making good use of a light breeze blowing from the coast. There was no way I could get to the shore undetected. My escape plan had failed, and I was too exposed to the Islanders' arrows on the shiny rooftop reflecting the Moon rays.

♣

For a few moments, I considered surrendering to the natives and leaving my fate in their hands. However, on second thought, I still had no idea what had caused the trouble. From the violence of the battle, they might have killed me if I gave them the opportunity. Perhaps my people on board _Excelsior_ thought I was already dead. I couldn't count on them rescuing me any time soon. With my pursuers so close, I had to improvise a plan to survive on my own for a while.

The best option was to move away from the city, then try to learn what had caused the incident. I needed to act fast and make the enemy lose my tracks before it was too late. Staying free was of crucial importance.

I jumped off the last house eaves into a nearby tree, then slid onto the ground and entered the forest that covered the Island's slopes. At least here, in the woods, I didn't have to fear the archers anymore.

A few burning arrows shot from the nearest tower hit the upper branches above me when I landed, signaling that the locals were well aware of my current location. I had to make them lose my trail, and I had to do it quickly. I dashed toward the interior of the Island, where I expected to fade away from their sight.

Running through a forest at night, even with such a bright moon shining up in the sky, can be a nightmare. More often than you'd like it, invisible branches hit your face painfully. Your feet stumble on rocks and roots you can't see clearly. Yet, you have no choice. You are forced to keep going, gasping for air with your mouth wide open and your clothes drenched in sweat. If you win, the prize is your life.

My heart was hurting inside my chest. Its beats felt like a hammer hitting in high cadence the anvil from a blacksmith's workshop. My field of vision was shrinking. I was close to blacking out. Still, in spite of the pain, I pushed myself to keep running.

Soon, I found a narrow alley going inland. My speed increased slightly. As I was moving farther from the coast, I expected to see myself climbing a gentle slope. Instead, the road here was going down. A few minutes later, my common sense estimated that I was already below sea level. My lungs were burning, and I felt thousands of needles piercing through my exhausted muscles. Unfortunately, footsteps and voices of soldiers were still audible behind me, albeit farther away. I was grateful the locals didn't have horses. A group of riders would have caught up with me by now. The way things were, I still had a chance.

I couldn't allow myself to stop if I wanted to see this sun rising again. After an agonizing run that lasted more than half an hour, when the distance from my pursuers had increased by quite a bit, the forest ended abruptly. A swamp extended in front of me, perhaps for more than two hundred yards, blocking any further advance.

Panting heavily, I slowed down and looked around. I could hear crickets chirping in the tall grass and frog calls coming from inside the water. Far behind the wetland, a rocky mountain ridge reflected the moonlight. I took my chances, plunged inside the marsh, and began crawling towards the cane bushes that covered large parts of it. Up to the neck into the muddy water, I prayed that my enemies didn't find me.

♣

I spent the next two days deep inside the marsh, hidden among the thick canebrakes that were spread all over the place. All this time, the locals forced me to play a cruel game of hide-and-seek with my freedom and survival at stake.

As soon as I got into the water, I moved away from the bank and concealed myself the best I could among the lush vegetation. The soldiers arrived at the scene a couple of minutes later but didn't follow me through the swamp. The canes and reed were full of water, so I was in no danger to see them burned down by my pursuers in their attempt to reveal my location.

A few thermal springs flowed nearby, pouring their streams into the wetland. Their tepid water helped my body stay warm enough for the next hours, preventing the onset of hypothermia. There weren't so many mosquitoes here to torment me, and I thanked God for that. Still, to defend myself against their bites, I covered with mud all my exposed skin from neck, face, and hands, letting it dry and transform into a protective crust. Suffering from thirst, I had to take my chances now and then and swallow in small sips some muddy swamp water. It had a mildly salty taste, but it was potable.

Harsh voices echoed from all directions. That meant I was surrounded. On the other hand, it seemed the soldiers had no plans to step into the wetland. Instead, they were waiting for me to come out on my own initiative, pushed by cold, hunger, and fatigue. I resolved to wait until morning before attempting to escape. Fumbling around, I found a bundle of roots that could support my upper body above the water and began dozing for a few minutes at a time.

At dawn, I realized the swamp was close to a riverbank. The body of water was perhaps one hundred and fifty yards wide. From my estimate, I had run north until reaching the wetland, so the stream ahead was probably flowing east. How could a large river exist below the sea level? And where would its flow end?

Squads of archers were guarding the outer edge of the marsh, ready to transform me into a hedgehog with arrows for needles if I was foolish enough to attempt swimming away through there. I was sure they had been watching that escape route all night. Staying put had proven to be a wise choice.

Just minutes after sunrise, the river bank was full of soldiers. They even brought three light boats and began patrolling the fuzzy boundary between the wetland and the area with free-flowing water. I was appalled by their determination to catch me. Once in a while, the men would approach the swamp, rowing back and forth through the narrow canals fenced by cane and reed. However, none of them passed really close to the place where I was hiding.

The marsh was rather silent during the day, except for shouts of the soldiers, cricket chirps, and frog calls audible once in a while. The insects were rather scarce compared to what I expected to find in such a place. I would only see now and then dragonflies with bluish wings crossing the sky above me. Fish of various colors and sizes, and occasionally small snakes, were moving back and forth underwater. To my relief, they left me alone. I was either swimming or slowly crawling from one spot to another every time I had an opportunity to change my location without being noticed by my hunters. When I wasn't moving, I tried to conceal myself inside the canebrake.

My only escape path was towards the other side of the stream, but I couldn't possibly use that route right now. However, I counted on the archers getting tired of waiting for me there at some point. I changed my location every hour or so, staying close to the middle of the swamp. Fortunately, the mud was not thick, and I never got stuck in it. I also found a small wooden log to keep myself afloat from time to time. That allowed me to dry and warm my upper body.

The boats continued to patrol around and through the wetland for the whole day. I had to conceal myself even deeper inside the cane growth to avoid being captured. I spent the second night and the following morning in the water, shivering from cold and encircled by my enemies, falling asleep for a few minutes at a time when they were not too close. The Moon appeared in the sky a bit later compared to the previous night, or so it seemed to me, anyway. It was already past its full phase.

When the Sun rose again, I was getting close to my physical limit. Gritting my teeth and clenching my fists, I forced myself to remain hidden from the soldiers at least until dusk. In the afternoon, the sky became cloudy. My shivers worsened. I had to use all my willpower to prevent myself from surrendering to the locals. Then, after sunset, a heavy rain began. The men in the boats retreated to the bank. I immediately realized that this was my opportunity to escape. Under the cover of darkness, I swam out of the swamp, crossing the river at the beginning of the third night.

The flow had an almost uniform speed, and I didn't encounter any powerful currents. None of the soldiers saw me leaving, and none ventured after me. Even so, as soon as I was out of the water, I kept walking downstream for another hour before I finally felt safe. Suffering from hypothermia and exhausted from hunger and strain, I fell to the ground and lost consciousness.

### delta

When I woke up the next morning, the warm rays of the Sun were already caressing my skin. I tried to get up but was unable to stand. No sign of human presence was visible in this area. Only bare mountain ridges lined the horizon everywhere. An unforgiving landscape wrapped in a queer beauty surrounded me. It was a scenery where, compared to Earth, everything seemed a bit out of place. Yet, I couldn't point out what exactly was different.

The city people had not come on this side of the river, and I was relieved to see myself beyond their reach. Perhaps they thought I had drowned in the swamp during the rain and abandoned their pursuit. I felt safe from them, at least for the time being. Why would the Islanders keep such a large army always ready for action, anyway? Were they afraid of an invasion from the sea? I knew so little about them and the Island!

The lack of food and sleep had made my body extremely weak. I was also tortured by stomach cramps and nausea, probably from the ingested swamp water. And now, in this heat, I was in danger of sunstroke, as well. On top of that, I had the feeling I could glimpse some eagles flying in circles high in the sky. Perhaps they were waiting for my death so they could feed on my corpse.

With all my remaining strength, I began crawling towards the shadow of a tree, located about twenty-five yards ahead. I would faint now and then but would start moving again as soon as I came back to my senses. And so, I kept going towards that spot with the speed of a snail. When I finally reached the tree, it was almost noon. The Sun was already burning my neck. As soon as I felt safe under the branches, I sank once more into a numbing sleep.

I opened my eyes again when the evening shadows were already spreading over the ground. Part of the pain and nausea was gone. Yet, I was way too weak to walk. I noticed in the grass, next to me, several fruits similar to oranges. They had probably fallen from the branches above. I decided to eat one, assuming by its looks that it was not poisonous. Without food, I would have died anyway.

The fruit was nutritious and refreshing. Holding the orange in my trembling hands, I took small morsels and forced myself to keep eating until I finished it. Then I grabbed one more and managed to chew slowly all its juicy pulp in another half an hour. Soon after that, I fell asleep again.

♣

_June 17_ — This is my second day on the northern bank of the river. I'm still sick and tired. All my body aches and feels like made of rubber. Yet, for the first time since I've left the swamp, I can stand up and walk, for my nausea and stomach cramps are gone.

What should I do now? Returning to the coast along the path I've escaped is not an option. Even if I could swim back across the stream, the other bank might still be guarded. Then, assuming I somehow reached the pier, I should be easily recognized and captured, this time not even having the strength to run away. I still cannot understand what ignited such a violent conflict with the locals.

It's better to continue the trek along the river bank until I reach the sea. Rivers almost always flow towards civilization. I could find food on the way and learn more about this land. Then I should go along the coast until I arrive at the city's outskirts. Nobody would expect to see me coming from that direction.

I could walk, or I could use a raft. I don't have the tools to build one right now, but maybe I shall find a friendly village along the way and get some help. There I would have the opportunity to switch my clothes with something used by the locals. Dressed like them, I could sneak back into the city without being recognized.

Tying together my coat's sleeves and making out of it an improvised bag, I put inside as many fruits as it can carry. The fruits will help me keep both hunger and thirst under control for a while. Due to the unpleasant effects of ingesting wetland water, I'd rather avoid drinking from the river. I also grab a dry branch and turn it into a long stick, using it as a cane.

With my low speed, I can barely cover one mile or so every hour. White birds fly above and dive every once in a while into the river, fishing. The scenery is rather dull. Blades of dark-green grass cover the ground, like a carpet. Isolated trees are scattered here and there. I can't see animals along the bank or on higher grounds. No animal tracks are visible, either. The mountain ridge seems to go parallel with the stream. In a few places, long veins of gold are shining on the rocky slopes.

I have to take frequent rest breaks and use each of them to eat a fruit. My condition gradually improves, and my mind can think clearly again. So, I fumble through my pockets and begin to inspect my possessions. My watch was damaged by water and has stopped working. Its glass is cracked, but its condition is not beyond repair. Hence, I shall keep it until I can make it functional again.

Luckily, my notebook and pencils were well protected inside the flat wooden box from my chest pocket. They are undamaged. A small folding knife thought lost had fallen into the stuffing of my coat. It will make a valuable tool and weapon. However, my flint is gone, and I shall have difficulties when I want to start a fire.

At noon, I take a break from my trek and spend about an hour on the river bank. I remove my clothes and boots and clean them the best I can, given the circumstances and my incompletely recovered health. Then, while they are drying in the Sun, I search for stones I could use to start a fire and find a few that look suitable for this job. When I hit them against each other, they produce sparks. With my little knife, I make a spear out of a long branch and try to catch some fish with it, but without success.

Checking for other available local resources, I glimpse some vines growing farther away in the grass. I have no idea what kind of plant this is, but the vegetable fibers look sturdy enough. I cut off the longest ones and manage to knit from them a coarse basket that I can carry on my back, releasing my coat from this type of work. I take with me several more vines to be utilized later as ropes.

Later in the afternoon, I feel more and more energetic. I have increased my walking speed to about two miles per hour. I find more orange-like fruits along the way and fill my little basket with them. The valley is more narrow here, the grass is almost gone, and mossy rocks cover most of the bank. Maybe it's my imagination, but it seems the watercourse is becoming more narrow, too.

When the night comes, I gather dry branches and leaves in a big heap. I start a fire by striking together my flint stones several times. Then I improvise a torch and try to do some fishing in the dark. My light attracts the fish towards the surface, and this time I succeed in catching two. They look similar to graylings. While the fish are getting roasted above the flames, I discover a small spring pouring from a nearby rock. After dinner, for the first time since the feast on the palace's terrace, I'm not hungry or thirsty anymore. Soon, I dive into the world of dreams.

♣

_June 18_ — The third day on the river bank. My body feels fully recovered and eager to continue the journey. I eat a few fruits, fill the basket with more from a tree nearby, then get on moving at a brisk pace. There is no available recipient to carry water. I shall have to rely on every opportunity along the way to quench my thirst. I'll drink from the river only if no other source is available.

After about an hour of walking, the valley becomes as narrow as the river itself. I'm surrounded now by cliffs covered with scattered patches of moss. Stones and boulders are spread on the ground, slowing me down considerably. In the air saturated with mist exposed to sunrays, trembling rainbows take form and dissolve in a silent symphony of colors. The rock walls have an unusual blue tint, almost as if someone had painted them with a giant brush. Could this rock be a type of whinstone?

Both banks of the river are barren. The trees are gone. At noon, I take a long break and spend about two hours fishing. My spear-throwing skills have improved. This time I catch five river creatures: two salmons and three graylings. Cooking them takes another hour, and it's already late afternoon when I get moving again.

The night seems to fall sooner in the narrow gorge. At sunset, I find a spacious cave and decide to sleep inside it. Some water drips from a corner of its ceiling. It is more than welcome to alleviate my thirst. I improvise a cup from the skin of one of my fruits to collect it. By happy chance, several thick bushes still grow nearby, and I can gather enough dry twigs for a fire. After dinner, the claws of a deep slumber grab me, and I fall instantly asleep.

♣

I sit inside the cave, next to the fading flames, and listen to the whispering voice of the river. Its flow generates rhythmic sounds that combine into a monotonous melody, reminding me of _Excelsior'_ s prow cutting the waves. The waning giant moon has just risen, and I feel someone's presence nearby. Lifting my head, I discover the dark outline of a standing man.

He steps away, closer to the cave's entrance, then turns towards me. The pale light of the dying fire unveils his preoccupied face. The second-in-command stands right there, dressed in his ceremonial uniform. This can't be happening. Am I awake? No, I can't be. I must be dreaming. However, dreaming or not, I need to find out what he has to say. I think he wants to tell me something important.

"How come you are here, sir?" I ask abruptly, skipping any introductory remarks.

No answer.

"How did you find me? Am I close to the coast? Is _Excelsior_ nearby? Am I awake, or am I dreaming?"

The first lieutenant only looks at me in silence. The scene feels uneasy, and my own words, echoed by the cave walls, sound as if coming from someone else's mouth.

"You're dreaming," he answers in the end, taking a seat on a boulder from the other side of the embers. I decide to be patient and remain silent, waiting for him to continue the conversation. For a while, we look at each other, and nobody says anything.

Then he breathes out: "I just came to say goodbye."

"What do you mean?" I say. "Where are you going? Has _Excelsior_ already left the Island?"

I was hoping all this time to escape from here, reach the coast, and find my ship waiting for me somewhere near. Now I feel the fangs of doubt biting my flesh. The first lieutenant doesn't answer immediately. Another long silence follows. Then he goes on in a low voice:

"I was among the people who died in the fight. They call that place Ora Urbo in their language, which means Gold City."

"This can't be true," I retort. "I thought I saw you next to the captain, crossing the mobile platform and returning to the ship."

"An arrow pierced my back and damaged my aorta," he replies. "I managed to reach the ship's deck, but died from the internal bleeding a few hours later, aboard _Excelsior_. The doctor could not save me."

The cave is filling with silence again. Even though I know I'm dreaming, I believe he's telling the truth.

"I'm so sorry about your life loss!" I say in an awkward tone. "I had no weapons and could not even join our men to protect their retreat, for the locals surrounded and attacked me, too. They cut me off from the harbor, so I took a detour to reach the quay, but the enemy soldiers had also blocked that path. They didn't even let me come close to the coast near the edge of the city. In the end, I had to run far away from the shore while being pursued deep inland. And here I am now, in this barren place, trying to survive on my own until I can get back to the ocean and _Excelsior_."

"This was my destiny, I guess," the first lieutenant continues, looking at the cave's entrance as if he hasn't heard my words. "My life was not so bad. In the end, sooner or later, we all have to go."

"Then, can you tell me what happened at the palace while I was exploring the city?" I ask him, full of anxiety.

This time, he turns his face towards me, awakened from his dream. His answer comes a moment later:

"Of course. The dinner feast was going on nicely. The king brought a few musicians with drums, harps, and lutes. They immediately began entertaining us with beautiful melodies, one after another. After a while, even his daughter, a charming young woman, showed up from her quarters and began singing a song herself. I suppose the local wine was starting to have a bad influence on some of our sailors. One of them took his gun out and released a shot in the air. The nearby palace wall amplified it into a powerful blast, almost like a thunder strike. Suddenly, all the locals, including the king, ran away.

"Petrified, we stared at the drunk sailor, and the captain scolded him vigorously. Our people saw this as a minor disturbance only and thought everything was going to return quickly back to normal. However, just moments later, something huge, shaped like a snake, came down from the sky and plunged over the entrance where the king had disappeared.

"Then we realized that perhaps this was the real source of their scare. From inside the building, the king's soldiers managed to defend their sovereign with their halberds. Their weapons prevented the beast from coming closer but were unable to do any damage. Some of us used our guns to shoot at the creature. All the same, the bullets didn't seem to hurt it, either. An instant later, the monster flew away and faded into the darkness. It moved as if it was swimming through the air and looked like an Asian dragon.

"What we didn't know was that their society links thunder to evil. The timing of the dragon's attack that followed the sailor's gunshot was blamed on us, too. The locals believe in a prophecy about a band of demons who will come one day to kill their king. They will pose as people from a faraway land carrying magic tools that can imitate the sound of thunder. With these tools, they will summon from the sky a dragon that is going to help them spread death and destruction over their city.

"This incident put us in the worst possible situation, for it wasn't clear that we had shot at the dragon and not at the king. I suppose they saw our gesture as a magic means of helping the creature capture their leader. Now everybody took us for demons or demon-possessed people they had to kill immediately. Of course, when the incident happened, we still had no idea about the local's interpretation of it.

"The captain started walking towards the door that hid the king, intending to find out what was going on, when suddenly we found ourselves surrounded by soldiers armed with swords and halberds. Without warning, they attacked us, with the obvious intention to kill. A few gunshots repelled the first wave, yet more and more of them kept coming. Seeing how the violence escalated, we retreated immediately to the ship. You saw the rest of it yourself."

"Then, if I stayed and waited for their mercy...", I reply in a feeble voice.

"They would have killed you on the spot as a demon."

"How did you get to know about their prophecy?"

"The king's translator shouted at us from an open window placed high above the terrace, describing it as soon as the fight with the Islanders began."

I ponder for a few moments whether to ask him about what happens to a person after death, but decide it's better to stick to the world of living for the time being. So, I continue:

"And what came after you got back to the ship?"

"After we raised anchor and left the pier behind, two of their vessels tried to attack us in the open water. Of course, it was an unequal battle, for we had canons, and they didn't. _Excelsior_ quickly sank one and inflicted a lot of damage on the other, so that it barely managed to return to the harbor.

"In the morning, I was already dead. Still, this world seems to have different laws for those who live in it, even if only for a short time. Although life had already left my body, I was well aware of everything happening around me. I could see the ship, the city towers, the port, the coastline washed by waves, my corpse buried at sea, the sad faces of the crew members, and I could hear the captain's voice swearing revenge. He promised not to leave until he had recovered from the shore the bodies of all the fallen comrades, and the locals had paid him a large amount of gold as compensation for their treacherous act.

"At noon, _Excelsior_ approached the harbor again. The captain had written an ultimatum for the locals. An armorer used an improvised crossbow to send it to the city, tied to one of the arrows shot by the locals towards our ship during the previous night. The captain asked for the bodies of our crew, a payment of fifteen thousand pounds of gold, and an official apology from the king. If they rejected his conditions, he was going to destroy all their towers one by one, bombarding them from far away so that no arrows from the shore could reach the ship.

"This was supposed to be a good deal for the locals if we think how cheap gold seems to be around here. However, they were too terrified by the similarity between what had occurred during the previous night and their prophecy. They still perceived us as demons. To negotiate with the paragons of evil was unacceptable in their culture, so they refused the terms from the letter. Therefore, the captain began demolishing their towers with the ship's cannons, sending them now and then new messages where he explained that we are people like them and not demons.

"The last time a ship from our world visited the Island was long ago, before the invention of the firearms. For this reason, our people never had any conflicts with the locals. It's kind of strange that no one who visited this place in the distant past was ever made aware of this prophecy. As for the flying dragon, I have no idea why and how it came to the palace right after the gunshot. Maybe the blast sound attracted the beast, who knows?"

So, there is a war raging in Gold City. This situation could last for a while. Retracing my steps is going to be, of course, way too risky. Being dressed so differently from the locals and not speaking their language would betray me as soon as I crossed back the river. On the other hand, what guarantees do I have that once they've made sure I have left the swamp, the soldiers won't follow me along this bank?

The only relatively safe route I can take is this circumventing path down to the point where the river reaches the sea. Then I shall return to _Excelsior_ riding on a makeshift raft along the coast or even walking if the path along it is easy to tread. From the way the river's course seems to bend, I have the feeling the road ahead might be short enough to bring me back to Gold City in four or five days. So, there is some good news, too: our ship hasn't left the Island and might stay near the city for weeks. If I hurry, I could be back onboard soon.

"I'm grateful for your news, sir!" I say. "You helped me a lot with all this information. Now I know what to expect when I get back to the city."

"Happy to do a final good deed! Well, I have to go now," he replies. "I'm glad I could bring you some news about the crew. Take care of yourself. And congratulations! When you return, you are going to be appointed the new first lieutenant of _Excelsior_!"

He waves his hand and fades away into the dark mist from outside.

"Please wait a moment, sir!" I shout after him. "Can you visit the captain in his dream and let him know I'm alive and trying to rejoin the crew a soon as possible?" But it's already too late. The first lieutenant is gone. And I never had a chance to tell him about my discovery from the forest. About the cocoons with people inside.

I know this is only a dream. However, it feels as real as being awake. Through the cave's open entrance, I can see the cliff from the other side of the river glistening in the pale moonlight. Of course, this is a different moon, not the one visible from Earth. Still, I shall call it with the same name, lacking a better one.

My body, as if it were an entity separate from myself, is sleeping on a bed of dry twigs. I cannot stop wondering about what happens to us when our lives end, what becomes of us when we cross to the other side. Are we going to stay unconscious, decomposing to dust and waiting to be resurrected at the End of Time, where we shall be judged by our deeds and then either rewarded for our accomplishments or punished for our bad behavior?

Or perhaps we're going to return directly to Him, the Source of all Creation, after a short existence in this world where our ego was only an illusion? Are we going to know more about everything by still being ourselves, or will our minds, with all their memories, die with us?

No answers are coming to me. The image of the cave fades rapidly and takes my thoughts with it as I plunge into a deeper, dreamless sleep.

♣

_June 19_ — I open my eyes at sunrise and get out of the cave. Clouds cover part of the sky, but the weather stays good. I eat for breakfast the last fruits from my basket and one of the fish caught yesterday. I wonder if the first lieutenant could visit me in a dream. Are such visits possible at all? Maybe everything was the product of my imagination.

My thoughts go back to the war with the people from Gold City. Assuming it happened for real, I'm baffled by the synchronization of the dragon's attack with the accidental gunshot. It sounds as if someone with godlike powers has set the stage for this conflict. But who and why? Of course, I shall never get an answer to these two questions, yet can't stop thinking about them.

I don't know if what I've learned from last night's dream is connected to what happened in the city. Yet, continuing my journey along the river bank looks like the best choice under the present circumstances. So, I pack up my belongings and get ready for another day of trekking.

As I keep moving, the gorge turns into a canyon with vertical walls impossible to climb. The stones covering the ground are so slippery that soon my advance slows down to almost nothing. As if things aren't bad enough, I have the uneasy feeling that an evil presence is stalking me from a distance. I struggle the whole morning with the uneven terrain and barely advance about two miles.

From behind, I hear at regular intervals the hissing sound of what may be a large prey animal. I keep looking around but can't find anything suspicious. Suddenly, I realize the little folding knife and the wooden spear aren't enough to protect me from an ambush, especially if it happens while I'm asleep. In the early afternoon, I decide to stop where I am and fix my shelter in advance.

I think the creature will try to kill me after nightfall. Combing my surroundings for anything useful, I discover many pieces of wood scattered on the rocky bank. They are not big enough for a raft but will be satisfactory for other uses. I need to make better weapons as soon as possible.

I work for about an hour, putting up a crude ax from a stone shaped like a blade tied with a vine to a piece of wood. Then I jam open the folding knife and mount it at the end of a staff. Now it can be used like a spear that would easily cut through flesh.

I find a cave with a narrow entrance and satisfactory ventilation. The holes above are large enough to start a fire inside. Tying with vines the sturdiest sticks I can get, I build a rudimentary door that should prevent any unwanted intrusion. When I finish, it's already getting dark.

I had no time to search for food, so I eat for dinner the last fish from my basket. It takes me a while to start a small fire in the damp air of the cavern. Patience and hard work are needed until I can see the soothing light of the flames and feel their pleasant warmth. Then I shut myself inside the shelter and wait.

### epsilon

_June 11, 10 a.m._ — The weather is excellent this morning. A constant wind is blowing from the stern, pushing us north. _Excelsior_ is leaving behind a foamy wake, a liquid signature of our temporary presence in these quiet waters. The dreams I had last night were long and unusually vivid. So vivid, I took them for real.

I'm relieved to see that nobody from my crew is missing. In three days, we are supposed to arrive at the Northern Fort, unload our cargo, then sail back and return to our naval base from the metropolis. Still, the dream about the Island was so long, intense, and intriguing it felt as I have lived in that strange world for a whole week! I'd better write down everything on paper while the details are still fresh in my memory.

_11 a.m._ — The hours pass slowly on the deck while I fill up my notebook with the adventures from my dream. If I were a more talented writer, I would be tempted to expand them into a novel and try to publish it. Perhaps there would be enough readers who would pay to read such a book.

"Whales at the prow, about twenty degrees to starboard!" the voice of the man on the topgallant platform cuts the stream of my thoughts.

"Sir, let's make a small detour and take a close look at them," I tell the captain.

"All right," he replies, scratching his chin. "It's a welcome change in our boring journey."

The captain gives the order for the temporary course alteration, and our vessel moves towards the pod of whales. It takes about half an hour to catch up with the cetaceans, for they are far ahead, going in approximately the same direction. The whales usually come to feed in this area rich in krill in the autumn, yet sometimes you can see them here during the summer, too. Swimming graciously with their mouths open, just five or six feet below the surface, the gentle ocean dwellers are advancing with a speed of about three knots.

This is a pod of five humpback whales: two bulls and three females. The animals are between thirty and fifty feet in length. They usually spend more time deep underwater, where the concentration of krill is higher, and only come up to breathe each ten-fifteen minutes. Probably the krill here is denser near the surface, making the whales easy to spot and follow.

As our ship closes in, the animals prefer to sink lower under the waves. They swim rapidly away, perpendicular to our course, to avoid any potential harm from us. The captain orders _Excelsior_ back on her initial route.

_9 p.m._ — Nothing else worth mentioning happened for the rest of the day. While we continued our journey north with all the sails up, I've finished putting on paper the story from my long dream. I shall expand its details when I have more spare time.

_June 12, 9 a.m._ — Threatening clouds began gathering at the prow since sunrise. The weather just got worse, as thick fog engulfed us a few minutes ago. Meanwhile, the helmsman is complaining that the ship's compass doesn't point north anymore. It is spinning back and forth, making it impossible for him to maintain the ship's course. We can't see the Sun and have no other reference point to check our orientation. The captain orders the chip log launched from the stern for a speed estimate, and we're doing our best to keep going straight.

_10 a.m. —_ The fog is gone. The sea is still calm, but the sky above has darkened considerably. Bright flashes are piercing the cloud canopy. Rumbling thunders reverberate near the horizon, most of them with a delay of only a few seconds after each burst of light. The storm is going to start at any moment. Fortunately, the compass seems to have stabilized back.

_11 a.m._ _—_ Most sails have been stowed, reducing our advancing speed considerably. Under a sky the color of tar, the wind is blowing hard, rocking the ship back and forth. No rain is falling yet, but we expect to be hit soon by a flood from above.

_4 p.m._ _—_ The storm is raging on. Huge waves batter _Excelsior_ 's hull. The ocean from below and the rain from above meet on the deck in frantic turmoil. We can maintain our course only approximately and with great difficulty.

Several crew members suffer from seasickness. I don't feel so great either, assaulted by dizziness and nausea, almost ready to throw up everything I have eaten during my most recent meal. Still, I do my best to hide it, not wanting to set a bad example for the sailors. In the meantime, I can't stop from having a feeling of déjà vu.

_9 p.m._ _—_ The waters are calm again after a storm that lasted over six hours. _Excelsior_ survived the battle with the elements with almost no damage. The crew has unfurled the sails back. The sky is still cloudy, and the ship changed course towards the direction where we think the shore is located. We intend to use its features to identify our position more accurately. Three lighthouses line the coast for the next fifty nautical miles along our route towards the north. They should be the perfect benchmarks to pinpoint our current coordinates at night.

_11 p.m._ _—_ Many of the crew are getting nervous, for we haven't reached the coast yet. It's a full moon night, and the mountains behind the shoreline should be easily visible from great distances, even with a cloudy sky like this. The layer of clouds prevents us from seeing the Moon or the stars, so we can't use them as reference points. Only the compass can provide our direction.

_Midnight_ _—_ It's obvious we went off course during the storm. The clouds are gradually clearing in an area I believe is the north. Trying to measure our latitude, I'm looking for the Little Bear and the Pole Star. However, all the constellations look changed, and the few stars patterns I can glimpse are entirely different from everything I know.

I turn my eyes toward the captain. We look at each other with surprised expressions while the ocean's waters from around us radiate a blue glow, probably generated by tiny light-emitting creatures floating below the surface. A few minutes later, the clouds cover the sky again.

"What a crazy night!" the captain says. "Let's stow all the sails and wait for sunrise."

♣

_June 13, 7 a.m._ _—_ The clouds scattered right before the sunrise. The Sun returned to the sky, climbing above the horizon at around 4 o'clock. The compass from the steering wheel suggested it had risen from the south.

"It's crystal clear now; we have encountered a magnetic anomaly that veered us off course and are still under its influence," the first lieutenant said. "When in doubt, trust the Sun, and you'll be fine," he continued after a few moments, grinning. Then he began whistling and walked to the other side of the deck to give some new orders.

The Sun had a green tint around its edge and seemed larger and paler. I came on the deck with my sextant and checked its angular diameter. Instead of the expected value close to thirty-two minutes, I've got thirty-nine. This meant the Sun had grown in size by more than twenty percent.

No, there was no way the Sun had grown bigger overnight. My mind refused to accept that. I decided an odd dispersion of light was the cause. I didn't understand the source of the green tint, but it could be some unknown substance in the higher atmosphere, something that, when heated by sunlight, acted as a magnifying glass and made the Sun look larger. How did it do it, I had no idea. Perhaps when we come back to the city, some scholar who knows more optics than I do can explain this phenomenon to me. I think I have already written all these phrases in my log before. And I did that in my dream where we have come to the Island's shores.

Soon, the green tint extended to the whole sky. Everybody on board was feeling uneasy about this curious phenomenon. Some men began talking about spells and curses, making the atmosphere even tenser. Meanwhile, the feeling that I had already been through this situation became even stronger.

At 9 a.m. I was down in the cabin, trying to have a good guess about our current location and attempting to triangulate our most probable route. Suddenly, the first lieutenant came by and requested my presence on the deck:

"Alberto," he said, "the man on the topgallant platform saw a group of unusual flying creatures. Even though they are still far away, their size seems to be enormous, much larger than any birds. I think you might be interested to see them."

I grabbed my portable telescope and rushed onto the deck. The creatures were far away, and I could only get a short glimpse of them through the optical instrument, for the ship's rolling prevented me from maintaining a stable field of view. I couldn't figure out what they were. In any case, these white things were definitely not flying like typical birds. Their long, trembling bodies, suggested the shape of a snake. There were three of them, and they seemed to follow our ship.

"Whales at starboard!" the sailor from the topgallant platform shouted. Then, after a moment: "Whales at port!" Then again, after a few more seconds of silence: "Whales everywhere around the ship!"

A large pod of humpback whales, more than thirty, had emerged from the depths at the same time, not concerned anymore about a potential threat from _Excelsior_. Meanwhile, still flying too high to be seen clearly, the strange creatures were making circles above our vessel. I decided to climb the mainmast myself, for a better view of the whales' placement and hopefully a more detailed image of the unusually looking beasts from above.

From the topgallant platform, I could count about fifty whales. This was an impressively large pod! The swimming giants seemed occupied with their feeding, ignoring the presence of our vessel. In the meantime, the three flying serpents came closer to the ship, and I could take a better look at them. They had snake-like bodies and four short paws with powerful claws. I identified them as mythological Asian dragons with a length of about forty-fifty feet! The way the creatures swam through the air seemed to defy the laws of nature.

I tried using my small telescope again to see the creatures better. Alas, the ship's rolling had made it useless at this height. So, I gave up and was preparing to climb down to the deck when suddenly the wind changed direction. The mast tilted toward the port side with a jerk. Caught by surprise, I lost my balance and fell from the narrow platform.

In desperation, I grabbed a backstay that happened to be in my way but couldn't hold it for more than a second. Then I managed to cling to a shroud for a short while. Finally, I bumped into the main course and began sliding along its stay, slowing down considerably the speed of my unwanted descent. However, my landing on the deck was too rough and resulted in a sprained ankle.

_7 p.m._ — The dragons soon left our ship, flying south until they disappeared from our view. The same happened with the whales, who swam north. The ship's physician wrapped my foot in a wet bandage and recommended a few days of rest until the swelling subsided. I had to go to my cabin and lie in bed all afternoon. I spent most of my time there checking navigational charts. Outside, the Sun still looked too large, and the sky still had a green tint.

At about three o'clock, the sailor from the mainmast spotted land. However, the shoreline looked unfamiliar and extended from west to east instead of the expected south to north direction. Puzzled, we came closer and kept sailing west along it. With the help of a crutch, I climbed on the deck to see the coast shape.

One hour later, we were entering a semicircular harbor with a stony pier. Higher on the rocky shore, an imposing city was filling the coast. Palaces, buildings with shiny roofs covered in ivy, and tall towers enriched the landscape. The urban center stretched over more than two miles as if holding the port in a protective embrace. Everything looked like in my dream, and that was unsettling.

Soon, _Excelsior_ cast anchor close to the pier. Two mobile platforms connected her gunwale to the quay. A few dozen locals with features and skin color surprisingly close to ours were already waiting for us. I told the captain and the first lieutenant about my dream vision. They already suspected we must have come to the Island and paid careful attention to my story.

"It's out of the question to go to the city unarmed. Nonetheless, I shall caution all men to use their guns only in case the natives attack us. We are not going to give them any reason to become our enemies," the captain said. "I'm sorry, Alberto, you have to remain on board for now, but there will be plenty of chances to visit the city later, for we plan to stay here for up to a week. This new mission takes priority over the ammunition delivery to the Northern Fort. If the legends about the gold are true, the crew of _Excelsior_ is going to return home with unbelievable riches for ourselves and our country. As the highest-ranked officer, you'll be in charge of the ship until our return."

Having spoken these words, the captain and the first lieutenant stepped on the quay, followed by about fifty men. I could hear how the locals, speaking through an interpreter, invited them to have dinner at the king's palace. Watching them walking towards the monarch's residence, I remained behind the rail with my worries and the rest of the sailors.

### zeta

_June 14, 4 p.m._ — A lot of events took place since last night. My fears proved justified. Everything happened pretty much like in my dream, with the only difference that now I was not present in the middle of things but stuck aboard _Excelsior_.

The king was delighted to meet our crew and invited everybody to dine at his palace. The local food was much appreciated, and the men were talking happily about exchanging a part of our ship's cargo for the cheap and omnipresent local gold.

Later, at around 9 p.m., the king's daughter, a gorgeous young woman, came to the terrace where they served the dinner. She began singing a song, accompanied by a band of musicians. A drunk sailor, who was returning from a toilet break, stumbled over a chair and fell on the floor. His loaded gun dropped from his belt and discharged accidentally. Perhaps the safety catch had not been set in the proper position. Nobody got hurt, but the weapon generated a powerful blast. The nearby walls amplified the bang and made it sound like a thunder strike. Music and conversation stopped instantly. People from both sides began exchanging worried looks. Then, suddenly, all the locals, including the king, ran away.

After a few moments, _Excelsior_ 's crew saw the real reason for their fright: something huge, shaped like a snake, came down from the sky and plunged over the spot where the king had been seated. A few soldiers came back from a nearby room and attacked the strange creature with their halberds. The beast looked like one of the dragons we had seen flying above the sea in the morning. It retreated immediately, swimming through the air and vanishing into the darkness with ample moves of its long body. Our people didn't intervene in the clash between the king's guards and the dragon, deciding it was wiser to avoid any other gunshots.

Having been put on guard by my story, the crew didn't wait for the soldiers to come upon them. They rushed out through the door, trying to reach _Excelsior_ as quickly as possible. However, a detachment of fighters armed with spears and halberds was deployed outside, prepared for battle. It looked as if the locals had already been suspicious of my people, waiting for the right moment to lash out at them.

The enemy unit charged at once, killing many of our men before they could aim and shoot their guns. The survivors had to fight their way out for the whole distance separating them from the harbor. At the same time, bent over the edge of a window high above, the king's translator was shouting his message, describing the Islanders' prophecy about demons disguised as people who could imitate the sound of thunder.

I had the temporary command of the ship. Therefore, it was my duty to protect our people who were on the shore. Using a crutch to move around, I climbed as fast as I could onto the upper deck and began shouting commands at the crew who had stayed on board. Without hesitation, I ordered the cannons loaded and began striking the areas with enemy soldiers. The bright moonlight proved to be a trustworthy ally for our bombardment, revealing with crystal clarity all the targets of interest from the city.

Our barrage of fire inflicted terrible losses on the locals and covered the retreat of the men who were still alive and able to move. A thin cloud of white smoke coming from our artillery fire surrounded our vessel's hull and masts. The deck was shaking hard from the powerful blasts, and I had to hold the cordage tightly to maintain my fragile balance. Several Islanders approached the far end of the pier and started shooting at us with burning arrows, but were too far away to be a real threat for _Excelsior_. The ship's cannons and the rifles in the hands of my men prevented the enemy archers from coming close, killing scores of them.

In the meantime, the men ashore who could still move crossed the mobile platforms back onto the deck. The first lieutenant had an arrow protruding from the left side of his back. He was staggering, and his face looked as white as a sheet of paper. A few sailors had lighter wounds. We weighed anchor and moved into the open sea, helped by a breeze blowing from the land.

I could glimpse now a lot of activity on the towers, too. Archers were there, shooting burning arrows at us from the high platforms. However, our brig was already out of their reach. While the physician was doing his best to help the wounded with scalpel and bandages, two of the Islanders' ships tried to cut our retreat. The captain, taking back the command from me, directed the cannon fire with accuracy, sinking one and damaging the other. For the moment, we were doing fine. Still, with so many enemies surrounding us, despite our superior weapons, this was an unequal battle. The best course of action was to move _Excelsior_ even further away and leave the harbor behind for the night.

The first lieutenant had his aorta punctured and died from his wound early in the morning. We buried him at sea in a heart-moving ceremony. He was the only man to lose his life aboard our ship. Everybody else who perished during the attack had to be left onshore. No less than thirty-one people, including the second in command, were killed in this battle. In these unfortunate circumstances, I was appointed first lieutenant.

_5 p.m. —_ At noon, _Excelsior_ sailed closer to the harbor and used an improvised crossbow to launch a message tied to an arrow. The captain gave the king an ultimatum, asking for the return of our fallen comrades' bodies, a large quantity of gold (meaning about fifteen thousand pounds that could easily fit in the remaining free space from the cargo bay), and an official apology for their wicked behavior. He threatened to destroy all their towers one by one if the locals did not satisfy our request. Most of the afternoon has already passed. So far, the natives haven't given us an answer.

_9 p.m. —_ Taking advantage of the ammunition from the cargo bay, the captain began to put his threats into action. By nightfall, our cannons had already cracked and damaged badly the two towers located at the port's entrance.

_June 15_ — _Excelsior_ patrols the harbor area, preventing the local ships from leaving it. It's also ready to block any potential visitor from the open sea from reaching the city. One of the vessels inside the bay had the unfortunate idea of raising anchor and trying to sneak away. It was promptly sunk by our cannons. However, the captain allowed the crew to escape by boat and return to the shore. At noon, we sent a new ultimatum, with the same message, and in the same way as the previous one. Through our hand telescopes, we saw the arrow shot by our crossbow breaking through one of the palace's windows and disappearing inside.

Everybody on board is furious at the locals and their cruel massacre of our men. Some of us suggested a surprise night attack and the occupation of the city. However, even with guns in our hands and cannon support from the ship, how can we fight against thousands of people armed with spears, halberds, swords, and bows? Before being put into practice, an assault needs a well-thought plan. Besides, in a week or so, we might face another problem: the lack of fresh water and food supplies.

♣

_June 16_ — _Excelsior_ continues to patrol the coast on a route extending about three nautical miles in each direction from the local urban center. There is a chance the people from Gold City had sent messengers inland and called for help from other coastal settlements if other such coastal cities exist. Soon, we might face a whole fleet attacking us in the open. Considering this potential threat, we agreed that we must render unusable the ships left inside the harbor so that at least we don't risk a naval battle from two sides. At nightfall, we sank with well-aimed cannon hits the eight enemy vessels anchored near the quay. Despite our anger, we tried to avoid inflicting any unnecessary loss of life.

This morning, a reply to our message reached us. It came wrapped around an arrowhead, too. The arrow fell into the water, a bit short from reaching our vessel. Luckily, we saw the attached scroll in time, recovering it quickly and in good condition. The written text stated that their people were forbidden to negotiate with demons, even if they all had to lose their lives. They needed more proof that we were genuine humans. Only the demons could make the sound of thunder and summon dragons to attack their king, so how are we going to explain that? We also saw their soldiers assembling huge catapults on the shore and moving big blocks of stone for new fortifications that could better protect them from our cannon shots. Thinking about a suitable proof of our humanity, the captain decided it was wiser, for now, to retreat farther away from the port.

_June 17 —_ Our patrolling route has increased in length, covering now about six nautical miles in each direction from the harbor. The whole coastal line beyond the city limits looks completely uninhabited. From the topgallant platform, one of the sailors saw at dawn a small, rocky bay where many fruit trees were growing. Perhaps a source of fresh water was flowing nearby, too.

I advised the captain to send a boat to the shore to replenish our supplies and offered to lead the small expedition myself. He agreed, and we planned the operation for the following day. Meanwhile, my ankle had healed, and I could resume my full duty on the ship.

_June 18 —_ The two boats from _Excelsior_ touched the sandy beach of the small bay early morning, helped by the high tide. Many trees with orange-like fruits grew on the shore's slopes. I remembered eating them in the long and vivid dream where I was trekking along the river. After a few careful bites, I decided they were not poisonous, and we filled all the supply boxes with our new source of food.

A small waterfall emerged from an unusual red-colored rock, becoming a brook as it flowed into the ocean. We filled the barrels in about ten minutes, then carried food and water towards the boats. We didn't see any signs of natives' activity here. It looked like this place was not currently under their direct control, and we were in no danger of being attacked.

While my people were loading the supplies into the boats, I decided to explore the surroundings. The bay was almost semi-circular, with a diameter of about three hundred feet. The coastline was coming out from the water at a rather steep angle, like on most of the Island. Of course, this was due to the high amplitude of the tides from this world. I turned away from the ocean and entered the forest that was connecting the shore to the deeper lands. After about two hundred yards, I reached a cliff where I could see, partly hidden by trees and ivy, the entrance to a cave.

We came back to _Excelsior_ with a big load of fruits and fresh water, then decided to go to the shore once more. The captain accepted my proposal to explore the newly found cavern, as I suggested it might potentially take us inland, closer to the city, perhaps to a place where we could launch a surprise attack. The orientation of the cave's mouth certainly allowed for this possibility. So, we got a bunch of torches and jumped into the boats again.

After returning to the bay, I asked two crewmen to follow me while the rest were filling more barrels with water and fruits. The entrance was about fifteen feet wide and over seven feet tall. It opened into a straight gallery where we continued our advance for about twenty yards. Then the tunnel expanded abruptly into an enormous chamber, full of natural columns colored in yellow and red. It was impossible to see the other end of the hall in the feeble torchlight. Therefore we continued straight ahead for some sixty or seventy yards until we reached its opposite side. From there, five circular tunnels placed at regular intervals opened towards the unknown.

Each tunnel was about seven feet in diameter. Groups of symbols were visible above the entrances, with round shapes similar to what I had seen in my dream. This was probably the locals' alphabet. Unfortunately, none of us could read the inscriptions. I checked the galleries' direction with my hand compass and was pleased to find them pointing toward Gold City.

Because the tunnels looked man-made, I wondered if they could link the bay all the way to someplace inside the port. Maybe the locals had dug the tunnels centuries ago and had stopped using them in the meantime. Or perhaps they didn't expect any attack from this direction and had left them unguarded. Such a discovery could prove ideal for a surprise night charge into the enemy's nest.

As the tunnels appeared to go in the same direction, I decided to check them one by one with the compass, for about one hundred yards each. They all seemed to lead towards the city, and I could glimpse no end of them within the viewing range of my flame. The best course of action was to return to _Excelsior_ , gather enough torches, people, and weapons, then come back to the cave and explore the galleries to their very ends.

Back on board, I reported my findings to the captain and the rest of the crew. The men became enthusiastic at the idea of using the underground paths for a surprise attack on the city. We decided to start the exploration of the tunnels by nightfall.

Everybody who planned to take part got some rest until 9 p.m. Then our boats carried sixty fully armed men to the bay, including myself and the captain. During our absence, a sailing master remained in charge of _Excelsior_. The captain told him to take the ship back to the Gold City harbor soon after our departure and keep the port under surveillance for the night. At dawn, he would return to the bay and pick us up from there.

The captain chose the central gallery, I got ready to enter the one on the left, and three midshipmen prepared to advance into the remaining ones. If the passageways emerged inside the city, we would stay hidden, scout the adjacent areas discreetly, then come back to the bay. We would return with a full-scale attack in the most favorable location one of the following days.

### eta

_June 20, around 5 p.m. (or at least this is my best guess, anyway) —_ Two days have passed since my previous log entry. I am now a prisoner of this vast underground maze. My situation is uncertain, for I still haven't found a way out of here. If I die without seeing the Sun again, I hope that at least this notebook, describing the final days of my life, can be discovered and read by my people. Or by any people who might pass by chance through this hall.

I shall let myself go again through my latest tribulations while my pencil is writing down my thoughts. And so, sketched by my hand, the recent events are filling up these sheets of paper.

♣

On the eve of June 18, sixty men from _Excelsior_ 's crew came to the newly discovered cave. They were carrying special torches that used whale oil and could last for up to six hours, small bags with gunpowder, swords, knives, and guns. We split into five groups of twelve, each taking on the exploration of a separate tunnel.

The inscriptions above looked different for each entrance. It would have been useful to know what they meant, but we had no means to translate them. After a short council, we decided they should most likely describe the locations from the city (or near it) where the tunnels emerged. We were to attempt reaching the urban area independently, explore the surroundings of the exit point without being seen, then retrace our steps to our temporary base. Before dawn, we were to meet again at the bay and share the freshly gathered intelligence. Then we would decide what to do next.

The captain and his unit were the first to disappear into the middle passage. I went next, taking the tunnel on the left. The other three squads, led by midshipmen, began exploring their allotted galleries immediately after us. It was 10 p.m. already. With a compass in my left hand and a torch in my right, I led my men along the narrow path. We quickly passed the one hundred yard limit of my previous exploration trip and traveled for a while without any incidents.

The tunnel appeared man-made. Its length and diameter were impressive. I suppose the other four passages, only superficially checked hours earlier, were about as long and wide as this one. Of course, the locals had invested a lot of resources to dig these galleries. Perhaps they used to have strategical importance against a possible invasion from the sea?

The temperature inside the passage was comfortable and rather high for such a deep cave system. The floor and the walls were dry. I assumed some hidden thermal springs were evaporating the water from the passage and desiccating the place. The walls of gray whinstone were still in good shape, despite a high chance this path had not been used in centuries. A thin layer of untouched dust covering the ground supported this hypothesis. Small stones fallen from the ceiling marked the floor here and there, showing the advanced age of the tunnel.

If the passage went all the way to the city, we expected to walk through it for six or seven miles. With our speed, that could mean about two hours, provided we didn't encounter anything unexpected to slow us down. Our shadows were sliding along the walls in rhythmic trotting as we continued to advance in single file through the eternal night. Revealed by our moving flames, the tunnel looked like a giant mouth ready to swallow us at first but retreating farther ahead, as if in fear, after each of our steps. Or perhaps it was enticing us to go further into its trap until no escape was possible.

No one was talking. While our legs strode along the passage, we were holding the torches tightly in our hands, full of excitement and desire to fight. And so we made steady progress for a while in our journey toward Gold City. However, about one mile and a half into our trip, we saw something shiny emerging from the darkness, blocking our path.

It was a large door made of rusty steel, and it was locked. We pushed and pulled at it with all our might, but the metal handle was tightly jammed. A sailor suggested using our gunpowder bags to blow the door open, but I opposed the idea for fear of a cave-in. The passage would get filled with rocks, and we could get trapped underneath them.

"Let's analyze the lock more carefully. Maybe there is a way we can open it with a knife. We could also use a rod for gun cleaning to reach inside," I said.

Bringing the torch close to the lock, I picked a rod and inserted its sharp end through the keyhole. Then I began moving it about, trying to reach its shutting mechanism that seemed to be a steel bar. Soon I could feel it with my iron stick, but it must have been badly jammed after so many years of neglect, fiercely resisting all my attempts to push it aside. Two sailors repeated my maneuvers, with results no better than mine.

"What about using a tiny quantity of gunpowder inside the lock to make it move?" a crewman asked.

"We need to pour it into a small recipient, and we have nothing that could do the job," another sailor replied.

We sat down and decided to have a short rest while thinking about a way to continue our trip. The minutes were flowing slowly. The air began to feel heavy from the torch flames. Looking at my pocket watch, I saw we had already been stuck here for ten minutes.

"We have to find a solution within the next ten minutes," I said. "If we don't, we go back to the main cave and take the central tunnel to support the captain's group." I leaned my back against the wall and continued to think feverishly for a way to open that door.

♣

Flames and smoke seemed to fill my head, so many thoughts were going through it at once. Suddenly, the simplicity of the answer hit me like a slap in the face. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and relaxed my body for a few moments. Then I opened them again and smiled.

"Fetch me several stones," I announced in a confident tone. "They have to be hard and small enough to pass through the lock's keyhole."

The sailors fumbled around and found what I needed in less than a minute. I used a bigger rock to hit the stones they brought and succeeded in splitting one into two almost equal pieces after a few attempts. With a sharp nail, I carved a little hole in one of the halves and filled it with gunpowder. I put the parts back together, leaving only a narrow opening. Then I inserted a fuse there, connecting this tiny bomb to the outside.

I joined everything tightly with thread, allowing the halves to be easily pushed away from each other by the explosion. Then we tied the stone to the tip of the iron rod and inserted it through the keyhole next to the lock mechanism, with the fuse reaching out.

"I'll try it first with the pieces lined horizontally, in case the lock has to move left-right," I said and lit the fuse.

Everybody moved several steps back and waited. Even though we had used only a small amount of powder, the explosion threw the two pieces against the lock with a loud bang. The door stayed jammed. We had to repeat the attempt with the stones on top of each other and placed under the door's mechanism. Our second try proved successful. When the blast occurred, we heard a cracking sound from the lock. I could rotate the handle now and pushed the door open.

Being already almost half an hour behind the planned schedule, we increased our pace. For another three miles or so, we made rapid progress and didn't run into any more obstacles. Then the tunnel opened into a circular hall. I estimated its diameter to be about sixty-seventy feet and its height close to fifteen. It was rather cold in here, and the humidity was high. The chamber was lit from above by several yellow globes, like those used by the natives from the city.

Could it be that some people were visiting this place often? The floor had no dust in here, so it was impossible to tell. Or maybe the globes could stay bright for a considerable amount of time? Nevertheless, for how long were they able to function? Days, weeks, or even months? After living through all these adventures, nothing was going to surprise me that easily. However, no matter how long the globes could last, someone had to show up here once in a while and provide them with the necessary fuel to stay alight, whatever that fuel was. We had to be careful and watch out for unexpected encounters with the locals.

When we reached the middle of the hall, we stumbled upon a rectangular stone block that looked like an altar. Silver statues of humans and animals in various poses filled its surface. Tunnel mouths surrounded the large chamber. I counted fifteen of them. Each had writing marks on top with the same rounded symbols like above the five gallery mouths from the bay where our expedition had started.

For a second, I thought I heard whispers from above, somewhere near the ceiling. Moments later, a white-blue light flickered in front of a gallery opposite to the place we were standing. We rushed toward it, but the spark was gone as soon as we stepped in that direction. A thorough investigation of the hall revealed no other presence besides ours. We soon noticed pieces of quartz crystals etched on the walls in several locations and concluded that the light we had glimpsed was the reflection of our torches onto their surfaces.

"Well, we have a compass and know the approximate direction of the city. Therefore we can choose the right tunnel to go further," I said. "However, let's mark the gallery we came from, to find it easily on our way back."

A sailor took a cleaning rod out of his pocket and scratched a big cross sign on top of our tunnel's mouth, next to the locals' inscription. While walking the new gallery, I heard behind me the voice of a crewman:

"Sir, there are animal feces in here," he said. "I can also see some hair."

The signs of an animal presence were right behind the altar. A bit farther away, where the ground was softer, we discovered footprints similar to those of a wolf, only bigger. Much bigger. The feces and footprints didn't look fresh, yet they didn't look old, either. Most likely, they had been there for a couple of weeks.

I called to my men:

"Listen up! We need to watch out for animals that may live in these caverns. Even so, our expedition must go on. Just have the guns and swords ready in case something attacks us."

Our underground trip continued through the new gallery. On the last mile before reaching the city (at least this was my best estimate for the distance), the tunnel began to climb on a gentle slope and soon opened into an immense subterranean hall. Extended curtains, columns, stalactites, and stalagmites, shiny as if made of jade, all looking gorgeous and colored in blue and yellow, gleamed everywhere. A little farther, we discovered a wide river crossing our path. Fortunately, a narrow bridge made of stone provided a link to the other bank, where the tunnel continued in the same direction.

We checked if other routes crossed the underground watercourse at some distance from ours, thinking about the rest of the tunnels that could have come from the bay. However, there were no more bridges or connecting galleries. On the opposite bank, a narrow path carved in stone ran parallel to the stream, but we had no time to explore it now.

I took the watch out of my pocket and checked the time. It was 11:35. We pushed on with our rapid march towards the city. The tunnel stayed horizontal for a while, then climbed at an angle of about thirty degrees, on a track made of stone steps. We arrived at its end a few minutes after midnight.

_June 19 — Sometime past midnight_ _—_ A cracked wooden ladder leaned against the wall in front of us, and we glimpsed above a hatch made of a gray stone slab. I stepped onto the foot-board, but the rotten wood fell apart under my weight, and I crashed on the floor. Two of my men, master at arms Salik and corporal Roy, had been at the palace on the night of June 13. They had walked on the city streets and perhaps might identify with the surroundings of our location in case our exit emerged there. I asked them to stay near me when we got out of the tunnel so that they could potentially guide us.

The ladder's remains were unusable. However, the stone hatch was only a bit over six and a half feet high. It was not a problem to lift ourselves through it. I could easily reach the cold surface with my hands, so I went underneath and tried to push it open. The hatch didn't move. Then two sailors tried this maneuver together, and it would still not budge. When four men finally crammed underneath and used all their strength to displace it, they lifted the stone slab and pushed it to the side. Helped from below by my men who were still standing inside the tunnel, I stuck my head out and peered into the unknown territory.

We were inside an old storehouse. My first look around found no immediate danger, so I crawled out of the hatch and signaled to the others to follow me. Soon, all of us were standing in a square hall filled with old furniture pieces wrapped in white canvases. Dust enshrouded in spider webs covered everything, suggesting that no human being had visited this place in a long time.

There were no windows, yet the room wasn't completely dark. A couple of yellow globes near the ceiling were casting a faint but steady light. Again, I couldn't stop asking myself: what kept them so bright for months or even years? A new set of stone stairs reflected the flames of our torches near the opposite wall, leading higher.

At my command, Salik and Roy took over the lead and moved in front of our squad. The lack of windows had to work to our advantage, hiding our presence from anyone outside the building. Salik climbed the steps until he reached a wooden door plated with long stripes of gold. He pressed the handle and tried to open it. The door was jammed and seemed locked.

The lock was too small, and we were probably too close to an inhabited area for another attempt to blow it open. The risk of being discovered was too high. Talking in whispers, we began exploring the room looking for another exit, and even for a key.

Suddenly, one of the men produced an exclamation of surprise. He had stumbled onto a skeleton lying under an oval table near the wall opposite to the door. The bones were crushed and spread on the floor. Someone had been killed and partly eaten by a ferocious animal. A few pieces of discolored fabric were lying nearby. At a closer look, it became clear that the unfortunate event had occurred many years ago. We all released a sigh of relief. Right then, Roy spotted a key next to the human remains. I reached behind the bones and picked it up. The piece of gold alloy proved to be what we needed to unlock the door.

The man who had died here must have been in control of this entrance. I assumed it was a man but could as well been a woman, for it was impossible to guess the gender from the heap of crushed bones. He was probably leaving or returning when the unexpected attack occurred. Perhaps only he knew about the passage, and the others had no idea where he had disappeared. Or maybe someone from the other side knew about it but was too scared by the beast's roars to open the door again. Apparently, nobody had visited this room in a long time.

The unlocked door opened towards us, and we bumped into a wooden panel that filled its frame. We pushed it away, almost without making any noise. Salik was the first to pass through and got inside a closet full of old chairs and tables. A thin layer of dust covered the floor. Our boots were leaving clear marks on it.

The opposite wall had a door made of dark wood, with the upper part shaped like an arch. This door was also locked. Again, the key found on the floor opened it with ease. Walking ahead of us, Salik stepped into a new room that seemed to be another storage area.

This place had lovely crystal vases on marble shelves that filled the side walls. The floor had less dust. Someone visited these chambers once in a while, that was obvious. We followed the master at arms in silence: a line of trembling shadows in the uneven light coming from our torches. As soon as we finished crossing the room, we got in front of a third locked door. To our relief, the key worked again.

All the rooms so far had no windows. However, this place looked cleaner than those preceding it. It had to be close to the surface and occasionally visited by people from the city. The exit couldn't be far.

The air felt tense. I asked Roy and Salik to step behind me and got back in charge of the expedition. I strode across the room and opened the door from the opposite wall. The new door led into a cylindrical chamber about twenty feet in diameter and perhaps sixteen feet high, with the floor covered by square granite tiles colored in black and white. Our standing squad looked like a living chess army playing a game of lights and shadows on a giant chessboard. Three more doors were lining the wall, all locked. This time, our key could not open any of them.

♣

_12:40 a.m. —_ The new enclosure was also windowless and had a spiral staircase in the center. Blue marble tiles covered the walls, reflecting the light from our torches as if they were made of ice. We followed the stairs in silence to a square hatch in the ceiling that opened downward. I pulled it slowly and bumped into another wooden panel that blocked our way. The board was light and easy to move. I pushed it to the side only moments later.

With caution, we climbed the opening and entered a closet full of women's dresses. A faint scent of flowers was floating in the air. I had the feeling we were next to a room used daily. This place looked clean. The thin layer of dust that had covered the ground and floors on our way here was gone. Also, we had to be extra careful with our torches. It was easy to set the place on fire if any of the flames came close to the garments.

A couple of days earlier, the men who had survived the tragic dinner at the palace told me about the king's daughter and how beautiful she was. I let my imagination wander for a few moments. What if we had just arrived at her living quarters? Maybe she was sleeping within an arm's length from us. Perhaps we could kidnap her? Talking in whispers, I shared these thoughts with the men from my squad, who immediately nodded in approval.

Taking such a valuable hostage was going to be much better than just exploring the place for a future surprise attack. I handed my torch to a crewman. Then I opened the door slowly and with as little noise as possible.

I stepped onto the marble tiles of an ample bedroom. The pale moonlight was pouring out of the arched windows from the opposite side. Skillfully crafted animal and bird shapes made of silver decorated the light-blue walls from floor to ceiling. Framed paintings were hanging in several places, all of them displaying scenes at sea. Two tables made of redwood stood next to the windows. One was empty. The other one was full of books.

A massive bed of gold and steel filled the center. A young woman was sleeping on it, covered by a green blanket. Her beauty took my breath away.

Long black hair framed her oval face, spreading in curly loops over the pillow. Her skin was pale and shiny as if made of porcelain. Her closed eyes were big and had long eyelashes. Her lips were red and full: a pair of rose petals shaped like a heart. A delicate nose gave her a slightly Oriental appearance. Under the blanket covering her from shoulders down, I could perceive perfect curves that suggested a slender body of medium height.

How I wished I had run into her under better circumstances! I would have shown this woman the wonders of our world, and then I would have tried to win her heart. Without having ever met her, I knew she had to be the princess.

While staring at her face, I realized she looked familiar. Had I seen her somewhere before? Perhaps in a painting? But where? My memory was fuzzy, dodging all my attempts to bring it into focus. I felt something important from my past was evading the reach of my thoughts. Why could I not remember?

I was pulled back to reality by my men, who were shaking my shoulders. Salik looked at the girl and confirmed in low whispers that she was the princess. My squad was ready. I felt full of sadness and sorrow for what I was about to do. But there was no time to lose. Farewell friendship and love! Dear princess, please forgive me!

Careful not to make any noise, we took the piece of cloth that half-covered the empty table, then surrounded the bed. In a quick move, arms and legs were pinned down by four sailors while I was covering her mouth. We placed the table sheet on top, leaving only her nose and eyes out.

She struggled and parted her lips to cry for help, proving to be stronger than was expected from someone of her size. But it was already too late. Muffled words in the local language, somewhat similar to Latin, were still audible as we were taking her away. Nevertheless, they were not loud enough to draw the attention of the guards who were most likely standing outside her room:

"Ne! Ne! Kiu vi estas? Kion vi faras? Kien vi forprenas min? Liberigu min!"

♣

Ten minutes later, after closing the hatches and locking the doors left behind, our group was rushing back through the tunnel. With the blood pumping in our ears from the sustained effort, we were racing towards the bay as fast as our feet could carry us. Salik and Roy were leading the men back home. Two sailors were transporting the princess with as much care as possible, given the circumstances.

Every five minutes or so, the crewmen took turns in carrying our precious hostage. Hands and legs held by the blanket and mouth covered by the tablecloth, she had ceased to struggle after a while, realizing that any resistance was futile. The young woman had recognized us by now. I could glimpse tears of fear and anger flowing along her cheeks. Soon her gaze changed into cold hate, moving away from our faces and sliding along the rough shapes of the gallery walls.

In the same single file, we were trotting along the narrow passage, trying to get away from the palace as fast as possible. I was closing the line, ready to defend our escape route from any potential pursuers. Luckily, nobody seemed to be coming after us.

Soon, we slowed our pace and calmed down our breathing. We reached the river after half an hour and began treading the path leading across the stream. Suddenly, a deep rumble reverberated from behind. It sounded like an animal roar and sent shivers down our spines. We remembered all too well the crushed bones near the city exit and the huge wolf-like footprints from the cave with the altar.

The princess was the first to be carried to the other bank, followed in quick succession by my men while I was guarding our path of retreat. The sailors were crossing the narrow bridge in a hurry, unsure of what was going to attack them. About ten seconds later, they were all on the other side. I was the only one left behind, with a torch in my left hand and the gun in my right, ready to shoot at any creature that would jump at us from the rear.

The roars got louder. Still, I couldn't see anything moving beyond the trembling shadows projected by my flame. The cave's walls were deflecting the noises produced by the animal, making it difficult to pinpoint its position. I decided the beast hadn't caught up with us yet, so I hurried up to cross the bridge myself.

I was in the middle of the crossing when a dark shape springing out of the alley lining the river bank lunged towards me with lightning speed. It looked like a giant wolf with a lion's mane. I could see its fierce eyes, like two burning fires, springing close to my face along with a mouth full of sharp teeth ready to crush my bones. The beast leaped high in the air, preparing to strike me down and tear me to pieces.

I rolled to the left, unloading my gun into the monster's head. Shots from my men hit the creature's flank. The beast flew over me and landed flat on the bridge, its jaws narrowly missing my neck. I turned and stabbed its belly with my sword, but the wolf arched its spine and somehow got back on its feet. Its powerful front paws punched my chest, pushing me over the crossing's edge. A second round of shots from my men hit its neck almost at the same time. Before realizing what was happening, I dived into the ice-cold water, with the corpse of the animal falling immediately on top of me.

The river was deep and cold. As soon as I recovered from the thermal shock, I reached to anything connected to the bank that could stop my rapid drift. Alas, all the stones were slippery, and the powerful current was already dragging me further downstream at high speed. The water flow was so fast that I lost the sight of the bridge and my squad only a few moments later. Sinking in darkness, I was desperately trying to stay afloat, but the stream pulled me down with an irresistible force through an underwater tunnel.

Here and there, my hands and feet were hitting the walls of the passageway, adding more pain to my battered body. Finally, when my lungs were almost ready to explode from lack of air, I reached the surface again. I was now in an unknown place, swallowed by absolute darkness. Terrified, all I could do was to continue swimming, trying to keep my head above the freezing water. My muscles were already becoming numb, and I knew I couldn't keep going like this for much longer. Thousands of needles were piercing my chest, and my heart was racing madly.

I was going to give up my fight for survival when my feet suddenly touched the bottom. I pushed on, wading through the freezing liquid until I reached the riverbed with my fingers. Crawling like a lizard, I barely dragged myself out of the water, for my arms and legs were numb from cold.

I lay down for a while, coughing, shivering, and struggling to breathe. I couldn't see anything, and I had no idea where I was. However, the echoes of my splashes suggested I had popped inside a big cave. Optimism came back to me. And with it the hope to soon find a way out and join my comrades on their return trip.

I rested for a few more minutes, shaking and coughing. Then I took off my wet clothes and boots and began rubbing my skin to restore my blood circulation. I grabbed my garments and squeezed out of them as much water as I could. Then I got dressed again. This operation took a lot of effort, for the wet material would not easily slide on my tender skin. They were cold and uncomfortable to wear right now, but I needed them to keep me warm later. So, I had to bear this unpleasant feeling and let my attire dry from the heat of my body.

I checked my wounds next. I had got several scratches on my chest, forearms, shoulders, and shins. A few were painful to the touch, yet none felt serious when examined by my fingertips. My head was all right, as I instinctively had protected it while being dragged by the current.

It was dark, so dark that I could see absolutely nothing. In this eternal darkness, missing any visual reference point, my mind seemed to have gotten a will of its own. To compensate for this lack of visual stimuli, it soon began to produce various luminous shapes. I could glimpse pale fires and veils of multicolored light dancing at the edge of my vision. However, when I turned my head towards them, there was nothing to see. I just had to keep reminding myself that they were mere illusions and focus my attention elsewhere.

With my wet clothes back on, I moved farther away from the river. After a few steps, my soles felt a flat area. There I sat on the ground with my legs crossed and began to inspect my possessions using only my sense of touch. I found out I didn't have my flint with me anymore. Of course, even if I had had it, there were no dry twigs around to make a torch that could generate light. Still, even a few sparks from it would have been useful to glimpse my surroundings.

I had also lost the belt with my sword and gun. I already knew that since before getting out of the water. The glass of my pocket watch felt cracked under my fingertips, and the compass was gone. Inside my inner chest pouch, I found the flat wooden box where I kept my notebook and a few pencils. They seemed to be in good condition. The gunpowder bag from my coat's pocket, on the other hand, was all wet and rendered useless. Even if I could dry it from my body heat, how could I ever use the explosive mixture without flint and fuse? So I threw its contents away, keeping only the canvas recipient. Yet, I had to call myself lucky because I still had a small folding knife with me.

Without any light, I had no idea about what was around me. There could be a wall or a chasm lurking ahead, to my left, or my right. Yet, there are tricks to find your way out, even in total darkness. Many years ago, a childhood friend of mine became blind after a tragic fire accident. For the month that followed, he was helpless to find his way around. However, he learned to locate objects and people near him by emitting rapid clicking sounds and listening to their echoes. As the years passed and he became better at it, this unusual method of orientation allowed him to live almost normally.

I took a deep breath, calmed down my thoughts, and slowed down my heartbeats. Between occasional bursts of coughing, I paid careful attention to all the sounds from the cave. The only audible noises were coming from the underground river that was flowing somewhere behind me. As my mind was getting accustomed to the absence of any visual stimuli, the lights from my peripheral vision gradually faded until they became barely noticeable. I stood up and began to make clicking noises, slowly turning my head left and right, the same way my blind friend used to do.

Soon I began to recognize direction-related differences in the echoes coming back to my ears. I've got the impression there was an empty area a few steps ahead and to my left. With my hands stretched in front and swiping the ground with my feet, I advanced in that direction. Immediately, I found an opening and a gallery that seemed as big as the tunnel used by our squad to reach the city. I suddenly felt full of hope, thinking I could perhaps get out of this maze in a few hours.

Continuing to emit clicking sounds every few seconds, I realized the passage made a continuous right turn, climbing in a wide spiral high above the river bed. In the meantime, the whole strain from the night expedition began to take its toll. I felt exhausted and found it more and more difficult to keep walking, but it was too dangerous to stop while my body was still wet and cold. I went on like that, in total darkness, for another half an hour or so.

At some point, I felt the temperature inside the cave rising and heard a stream flowing on my left. Before long, my hands found a shallow basin with pleasantly warm water. Taking my clothes off, I stepped in. A few minutes later, I had restored my blood circulation. My shivering and coughs stopped. After my body temperature finally returned to normal, I washed my attire and left it to dry on a nearby boulder. Then I lay down on the ground that wasn't wet or cold to the touch. I fell instantly asleep on the rough surface, with my boots used as a pillow.

♣

For how long have I slept? Six hours? Ten hours? It's impossible to tell the time in here. As an arbitrary reference point, I'll assume it's the morning of June 20. I feel tired, hungry, and thirsty, but at least I'm not cold and coughing anymore. For thirst, I try some hot spring water. It has a vaguely salty taste and a faint scent of mud, but it's drinkable. Hunger and rest will have to wait. I put my clothes and boots back on and continue my trek.

To compensate for my lack of vision, my sense of hearing is becoming keener by the hour. I'm using the clicking sounds more efficiently now and can follow the tunnels without having to reach for the walls all the time. I'm still careful with my steps, touching the ground with the tip of my boot before sinking my weight onto it. You never know what hole or chasm might lurk ahead, especially when you have no means of seeing it.

I've picked up a couple of stones along the way, dried them in my pocket, then tried to use the pieces as a flint to generate sparks. However, my attempts at making light didn't work. The air in here is too wet.

After about an hour of walking, I hear the sound of a water flow ahead. Is this the same river or a different one? I get down next to it and check the current with my palm. I've been going upstream, which is good. It means this track should be slowly climbing towards the surface. I only hope I can also find a passageway wide enough to squeeze through.

The gallery has widened, and I'm advancing along a narrow path dug in the sidewall. There's a river flowing in the middle, just a few steps away. Of course, my eyes don't see any of the things I'm describing. All the information comes from what I can hear and touch. As for the smell, I haven't noticed anything particular so far. I breathe the same musty air everywhere.

Exasperated, I'm thinking for a moment about retracing my steps from the previous day and trying to go back to the stone bridge. Unfortunately, the only way to reach it is by moving through the underwater tunnel while swimming against a powerful current. That is way beyond my strength and probably beyond any human powers. I have to resign myself into following the river and looking for a side exit.

So, I keep going. My thoughts are wandering in spirals, taking me at some point to the princess. I still can't figure out why her face looked so familiar. There is a persistent sensation that I've seen her in a painting. Yet, I can't recall where and when did that happen. I know I used to carry a clear memory of that place, and this is driving me crazy. I feel as if an evil spirit has erased it, knowing how important it used to be for me.

♣

I think I have been walking for several hours already. Without a watch or a sun, it's impossible to know for how long. I can always hear the river flowing at my right. When thirsty, I descend to the bank and take a few sips from the stream. Then I continue my trek in the same direction, hoping it goes towards the shore and back to the surface. Yet, without food, if I don't find an exit within a few days, I shall gradually lose my strength, becoming in the end too weak to continue my journey. I'm going to die of starvation. Or of cold, as I also need food to keep my body warm inside this environment.

Sometime in the afternoon (I suppose it's afternoon, but it may as well be morning or midnight), I spot a faint glimmer ahead. My morale rises quickly, and I increase my pace. An immense hall opens to my left. Its arched ceiling is radiating a soothing yellow light. This light is not coming from the Sun but is similar to what fireflies or the local night globes can generate. When I reach the middle of the hall, it's bright enough inside to read or write. My eyes need a few minutes to readjust to this level of luminosity.

The temperature inside is higher than in the gallery system. I could say it's even comfortable. White mushrooms cover a large part of the floor, filling the air with a faint smell of raw potatoes. These fungi don't seem to have natural enemies here, so I'll assume they are edible. I pick up one and try a few bites. The taste is not so bad, although kind of bland.

I lie down on the floor and get some rest, letting about an hour pass until I take another bite, trying to make sure there are no ill effects. This food is far from ideal, but it can keep me going for a few weeks, even months. However, I hope to find an exit sooner. Much sooner.

I do a quick check of the walls, looking for a way out, but I cannot find an exit. Even so, I decide to spend the remaining of the day here, resting my legs and filling my log with notes while my memories are still fresh. Writing will calm my thoughts and help me think of a solution. It may look at first like wasted time, but searching blindly about for a way out won't take me out of here any faster.

Five or six hours later (that's my best estimate of time, anyway), I'm done with the writing. While filling my pages with notes, I kept nibbling from the white mushrooms. I check once more the cave for an exit, or at least for a gallery to take me further. No luck this time, either. Disappointed, I have a frugal dinner made of another bunch of raw mushrooms, leave the cavern to quench my thirst on the river flowing nearby, then I plunge into a deep sleep.

### theta

_Once upon a time, I, Chuang Tzu, dreamed I was a butterfly, a butterfly full of life, flying back and forth, feeling happy and at ease in this state. I was completely unaware of being Tzu. Suddenly I woke up, and here I was myself again, the genuine Tzu. Then I realized I did not know whether I had formerly been a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I was now a butterfly dreaming I was a man. Yet, between a human being and a butterfly, there has to be a difference. This is called the Transformation of Things._

A breeze of cold air touches my face. I open my eyes. The words of the great sage are echoing inside my head. Why have I just remembered them so intensely while being asleep? The air is still dark, but the dawn is near. Pale shadows are dancing on the ceiling above.

Scratching noises are coming from someplace in front of me. I lift myself into a sitting position and look around. A dying fire is burning at my right. A makeshift spear and a stone ax lay on the floor at my left. Where am I? Where is the big cave with the luminous ceiling and white mushrooms? I feel lost for a few moments. Then, slowly, my memories come back.

It's June 20 today. One week ago, I got separated from my people during the fight from Gold City. Now I'm trying to rejoin them by following the river course on this roundabout route until I reach the sea. Sturdy sticks tied with vines jam the entrance of my little cave, preventing any unwanted intrusion. And from the other side, an unknown beast is trying to get in.

Still dizzy from my vivid dream (it felt like I've lived in it for seven days), I put a few dry twigs over the embers. The interior of the cave becomes brighter. Then I take in my hand a burning piece of wood and come closer to the entrance. Behind the trembling shadows of the coarse grid, I glimpse a lizard-like animal scratching with the claws of its front paws at the protective barrier. The creature looks large enough to kill me. A quick poke with my spear through the empty spaces makes it retreat for now with an angry hiss.

The Sun will rise soon, and I hope to have a quiet morning. However, I know the beast will come back after nightfall. Then I might not be so lucky with my shelter anymore in case I chose to continue my trip and it keeps following me.

I decide to spend the whole morning resting and filling my log with details from the last few days. Questions after questions pile up in my mind. Am I awake now? Am I dreaming? Which one is the reality, and which one is the dream? I feel like I have been living two parallel lives in two distinct realities. In each of these two realities, I believed I was awake in the one I was experiencing at that moment while the other was supposed to be just a dream. Maybe I'm dreaming right now, and my real life is manifesting itself inside that deep maze of caverns?

No! This one, from this moment, has to be the reality, and the other one only a dream. I have walked on the streets from Gold City. I have seen the forest filled with human cocoons. I ran away from the soldiers who were trying to kill me. And now I'm here, trekking along this river until I shall reach the sea.

Sitting on a boulder and gazing at the foamy flow, I realize I might face a difficult situation. The canyon is too narrow, and its slopes are too steep. I can't keep trekking along the river's bank and can't move away from it, either. Also, there are not enough big pieces of wood here, and I don't have enough vines to make a decent raft that I could ride until I reach my destination. I don't see fish in the water anymore, and I'm running out of food.

Going back won't help much, for I can't use my knife to cut any of the trees I've passed by to make a raft. A stone ax would take a long time to do the job. In addition to this, I don't remember seeing any thick branches fallen on the ground that might still be useful to keep me afloat in the water. On top of that, I can't be sure the soldiers from the city haven't begun pursuing me on this side of the river. I certainly don't want to bump into them.

Suddenly, an interesting idea comes to my mind: If I can catch the big lizard, I don't have to worry anymore about being stalked and might get enough food for a week. I don't expect the meat to taste delicious, but it has to be edible. I could also use some of the skin and guts, combined with vines, to tie together many dry sticks and branches that litter the bank here. From these pieces of wood, I could build a small raft. It won't keep me dry but is going to be large enough to carry me downstream.

From vines, I make laces and set my traps at the entrance. I tie the ends of the vines to sticks that can't slide through the grid. I'm going to pull the nooses through my door and capture the front paws of the lizard when it comes again.

Once caught, the beast won't be able to escape. I also make my door sturdier. Now it can withstand without problems any hard pushing or pulling. I spend the rest of the day fishing, but without success. Today I have to go to sleep hungry. At sunset, I enter my cave, jam the door closed, light the fire, and wait. A few minutes later, the fatigue overpowers me, my eyelids close, and I fall asleep.

♣

_June 21 —_ I wake up hearing the already familiar scratching noise. I can't tell for how long I've slept, but it's still dark outside. Carefully, I crawl towards the grid. When I see a paw sticking out and trying to dismantle the door, I wrap a noose around it and pull. The third attempt is successful. A loud hiss comes from the other side. The grid is shaken hard but manages to stay in place. I start hitting immediately with my spear through the gaps. Every time I pull it back, blood covers the knife tied at its end. The angry hisses of the big prey animal are getting louder and louder.

The uneven fight goes on for about half an hour. Then the hisses diminish in intensity, transforming into rattles and slowly dying out. The struggle has ended. Only the monotonous melody of the flowing river is pouring into my ears now. I've stabbed the beast over a hundred times, and it has finally stopped moving. Through the cave's entrance, the pale light of the dawn is sieving in, cold and indifferent.

With caution, I open the makeshift door and get out of the cave, holding the stone ax at my chest, ready to strike. The predator that had been stalking me is a huge lizard, similar to a Komodo dragon from south-east Asia. It is about ten feet long and probably weighs more than one hundred and fifty pounds. Its body is covered in blood, punctured in many places by the stab wounds from my spear. The small eyes of the beast have a glassy gaze, while its powerful jaws are half-open. It looks dead. I suppose only extreme hunger could push this reptile to follow me with such insistence. Perhaps it came from the lands surrounding the valley. It doesn't matter anymore.

I step closer, intending to cut its skin open. With a final spasm, the monster comes back to life, bends its neck, and bites my left leg. I jump out of its way, but it's too late. My stone ax hits its head again and again until it smashes the skull completely and a puddle of blood surrounds it. Now the animal is dead for sure, but I'm wounded and need to act quickly before the cuts in my flesh become infected. In this wilderness, such a bite can easily lead to death. I can't take any chances.

First of all, I throw a few dry twigs over the dying embers from the cave. The flames are coming back to life a minute later. Limping to the river bank, I initially do a cleaning of my leg by immersing it in the cold water until the blood gushing slows down. Then I tear off a sleeve of my mantle, make it wet, and keep it above the burning fire until it's hot and steamy. I do the same thing with the wound until I can't bear the burning sensation anymore.

This procedure intends to disinfect the bite. I've seen the surgeon from our ship using it in similar situations. The wound is not deep, but I suspect the beast's saliva was full of dangerous germs. With the improvised sterile bandage tied over the bitten area, I can only pray and hope to be all right by tomorrow morning.

I spend the rest of the day separating the lizard's edible parts from those intended to tie my raft. After I finish, I cut the skin from the tail in thin stripes. As they are lining the riverbank, the stripes look almost like a collection of leather belts. They seem strong enough to keep together large bundles of wooden sticks. By nightfall, I have also built a small raft. As expected, it won't help me stay dry while riding the river flow but should do a decent job in keeping my body afloat for the trip through the narrow gorge. However, it's already too late to leave now. I'll have to wait until tomorrow.

_Late evening_ — Today I had three nutritious meals from the beast's meat, and there is enough food left for another five or six days. The bitten leg hurts, but I feel better than in the morning. I have changed the bandage and still pray the wound doesn't become infected overnight. It's still too early to make a prediction. The longest day of the year will end soon, and I'm going for a final night of sleep in this cave. However, is June 21st the longest day here, in this realm with a different sun? I also find curious the fact that this world has a day length so close to ours.

♣

_June 22 —_ I wake up at sunrise feeling weak and dizzy. My wounded leg is numb while lying down. I guess this is somewhat better than feeling the bite's pain. However, I'm not that lucky. As soon as I try to stand up, thousands of knives seem to cut in pieces my shin and ankle. My head is burning. I quickly understand that my wound became infected overnight and I've got a fever.

There is no chance for me to survive like this in such an isolated place. I need heat, sunrays, and herbs to heal my bitten flesh. I can't waste any time. I have to get out of this valley while I still have some strength left. In this desolate landscape, in this realm of loneliness, in this sad adventure, there is only one more character left for me to meet: Death.

Despite my weakness, I push myself to stay active. First, I untie the vines still holding my cave door. Then I employ them for strengthening the structure of the raft, using the door's frame as a base. Sometimes I hear voices around me, but I know they are only hallucinations produced by my fever. All my body is in pain. Yet, any rest is going to delay my departure even more. Any new delay could be fatal. I avoid stepping on my wounded leg and use a makeshift crutch to move around.

Although I have no appetite, I light up the fire for the last time and force myself to swallow a big breakfast from the remaining meat of the killed lizard. There is still enough food for almost a week. After I finish eating, I place every useful thing in my vine basket. Then I carefully tie all my luggage to the raft.

It's noon when I'm finally ready to go. This floating platform won't keep me dry. Still, when the current carries me to the sea, the raft will keep me afloat, protecting my body from the stones and boulders that fill the river's path. I jump into the water, riding my fragile craft as if it were a horse and letting the flow drive me through the canyon.

I hold a long stick in my hands, trying to use it as a paddle. Sometimes I sink into the water down to my stomach. The stream feels freezing in the beginning, but I get used to it a few minutes later. Flimsy and unstable, my raft is balancing on top of the furious stream. I'm shaking from fever and can barely sit straight. My throat is sore. My nose is runny. Fits of coughing explode from my lungs whenever I expect them least. Still, despite my precarious state, I have to escape from this bare place before it's too late.

♣

At first, my speed is about two miles per hour, but it triples about half an hour later. I'm carried by the flow faster and faster, sliding between two never-ending vertical cliffs. Both sides of the canyon look imposing, rising now to a height of about a thousand feet. The river width is no more than a hundred feet now. Here and there, big boulders cut the stream ahead. They are dangerous for my raft. Luckily, I've managed so far to avoid them in time by using the oar in my hands or my legs deeply immersed in water. And so I continue to slide at high speed through this ravine sunk in gray twilight, as shot from a giant sling.

When the sky above begins to darken, I know it must be late afternoon. I'm already moving with about seven miles per hour. The temperature of the water feels warmer and more comfortable now. Is it possible that some hot springs mix up their streams with the river flow in this area, like in the swamp where I hid from the soldiers for two days? My rough estimate is that I have already covered almost twenty miles. I still hope to see the end of the canyon today, so I decide to continue my trip until nightfall. My body is getting numb from cold. Nonetheless, I trust it can bear this harsh punishment for a little longer.

At dusk, the cliffs move away from each other, and the canyon widens appreciably. Patches of grass, trees, and flowers grow again on the riverside, filling the landscape with spots of color. With my last drops of energy, I turn the raft towards the left bank and get out of the stream.

The firewood is abundant here. I take my clothes off and squeeze the water out of them. Then I light a big fire, trying to warm my frozen body. While the heat of the flames is caressing my skin, I let my gaze wander around and spot nearby a couple of trees with orange-like fruits. I need about one hour of rest until I can stand up again on my healthy leg. It's already dark when I finally manage to cover the distance separating me from the trees by leaning heavily on a stick. I pick a few fruits and bring them to my camp.

I feel weak and lack any appetite, but I force myself to eat some lizard meat and a couple of fruits. Then I wrap my wounded leg in leaves fallen from the trees within my reach, hoping they might have healing qualities. Surrounded by the warmth of the fire and with my partially dried clothes back on, I soon fall into a painful sleep under the emotionless gaze of the stars.

♣

_June 23 —_ The Sun wakes me up early in the morning with an explosion of bright colors. Its warmth feels comforting, like a soft hand stroking my face and chest. I try to stand up, but my body doesn't obey me. However, my fever has subsided, and my health seems to have slightly improved overnight. I need more rest to recover my strength, so I go back to sleep.

It is already afternoon when I open my eyes again, and my fever has come back. I'm feeling worse. Much worse. Unable to write in my log, unable to move, unable to eat. My wounded leg is burning. My body is trying to split into thousands of small pieces. I'm a glass of water filled to the brim with pain. Lying on my right side, I do all I can to avoid thinking about it. Only an arm-length away, oblivious to my suffering, a few black ants are passing by, marching around the narrow blades of grass.

This is the end, I guess. Looking back, I could say with confidence that my life was not so bad. I learned new things, met good people, and left behind a few small achievements. I should not feel sorry to meet death now. Sooner or later, we all have to leave this world. And then we'll stand in front of the Supreme Judge when the time for the Great Judgment comes. I only hope He is going to be merciful regarding my mistakes and will have pity on my sinful soul. I start praying and keep doing so until my body becomes numb and my thoughts sink in darkness.

### iota

Light and shadow, alternating in slow motion. Colorful shapes with fuzzy edges moving in spirals. And with them, the strange impression that time is flowing along a tiny closed loop, making me live the same moments again and again.

Pain. Agony. Perhaps time itself is an illusion. I feel like I'm riding on a giant pendulum back and forth between past and present, never reaching the future. Is this a direct experience, or is it an intense memory that emerged from the depths of my brain to haunt and torture my final hours?

♣

I couldn't understand what was happening to me. It looked like I was being lifted from the ground and carried away. My vision was blurry. My sense of hearing wasn't working. Therefore, I couldn't be sure of anything I was experiencing at that moment. I was unable to move or talk. All I could do was breathe slowly. But even the air pouring into my lungs felt viscous, like a mixture of water and mud.

Nothing seemed real. My mind perceived the world like a hallucination, like a nightmare. Only the pain from within felt genuine, and it was overwhelming. Still, I couldn't utter the slightest sound to complain about it.

Perhaps I was being taken somewhere. But where? And by whom?

♣

This must be the heart of hell. It seems I've been evil after all, even though I used to see myself as a decent person. The time to pay for my mistakes has come. I didn't deserve redemption, so an eternity of suffering is waiting for me.

My eyes stay open, and my eyelids are frozen. My gaze is glassy, immobile, like the gaze of the dead lizard. I seem to lie on my back inside a long canoe, yet can't be sure of what my wretched senses tell me. Everything looks hazy and distorted. And I can't hear anything.

The big sky is pressing my skull, and white clouds are burning my head. They go in and out, unconcerned about my pain. My skull is as big as a mountain, and I can't change its position. Soon it will get crushed under its weight. At least this is going to give me some satisfaction: I imagine the clouds getting squeezed until they pop up like soap bubbles. This sight makes me want to laugh, but my mouth remains stiff, for my lips were made of stone. Now I see: all my body is made of stone. That's why I can't budge any part of it.

Like a bird gliding high in the air, a face is moving across the sky. It's a young woman's face, and it's upside down. I can't get a clear view of the girl. However, she has long black hair, pale skin, big eyes, arched eyebrows, full lips, and a delicate nose. It seems I've seen her before. Or maybe I have dreamed of her? Wait, I think these thoughts have already crossed my mind, not so long ago. Where and when did they do that? I can't remember. I'm too tired to remember.

♣

It has become apparent to me that this is not the hell, after all. You can't have beauty in hell. Nor compassion or hope. Something comes close to my lips. It looks like a wooden cup. The young woman is trying to open my mouth and pour the cup's contents inside it. Despite the intense pain that tortures my body within, I am entirely numb to external sensations. There is a swallowing move a few moments later, induced by the gentle pressure of her fingers against my neck, only it doesn't seem to come from me. I can't feel any taste, yet somehow the liquid slides down my throat.

My eyes continue to stay open, as if frozen, and I can't lower my eyelids over them. Then the world around me is fading away. A few moments later, I dive deeply into the realm of dreams. Only my empty gaze, like the gaze of the dead lizard, remains in this world, embracing the vast sky.

♣

For the first time in a long while, I hear voices. I don't know how long I have slept. My body is stiff and in pain, yet I can slowly move my eyelids and rotate my eyeballs. I can also close my eyes, and this is a blessing. My vision has somewhat improved. Now I can see with reasonable clarity the things around me. Tree branches are cutting the sky at regular intervals. Red fruits are hanging from many of them. Sometimes they turn into white birds and fly away. Sometimes white birds appear from somewhere else and become fruits.

The canoe is quietly sliding downstream, moving with grace over the white currents. The face of a middle-aged man is smiling at me. I try to smile back, but my lips are too stiff. The faintest attempt to move any part of my body throws me into an ocean of pain. Again, the man is pouring something from a wooden cup into my mouth. This time I can feel my throat swallowing a warm, bitter liquid. Then the girl's head appears above from the other side, throwing me a supportive look.

The two are probably father and daughter, as there are similarities in their facial features. They speak an unknown, musical tongue that is vaguely familiar. Is this the same language as the one I've heard at the palace during the dinner? I can't remember how it sounded. I think it was not so different from Latin. The effort to recall facts and things is still beyond my weakened power, and I sink into a deep slumber again.

♣

When I come back to my senses, I'm lying in a bed, inside a room full of light. I can lift my head a bit and move my lips. The rest of my body is still sore and unresponsive to my commands, feeling heavy and rigid like a block of stone. The bed is made of dark-red wood. A soft mattress wrapped in a white sheet covers it. In front of me, a table and two chairs from the same material are the only other pieces of furniture I can glimpse. Further ahead, a wide window opens towards a garden full of trees.

The Sun is just rising above a far-away mountain ridge that marks the horizon. When I finally manage to turn my head left and right, I discover shelves filled with clay pots and books on the side walls. The place looks surprisingly similar to a typical room from my world. Nothing exotic about it. I am alone and spend some time trying, without success, to lift myself in a sitting position.

Minutes later, the young woman comes in and examines my face, neck, and hands. She checks my pulse, then says something in her musical language, but I can't understand her words. I'm trying to reply. My lips are moving, but no sound is coming out of my mouth. She smiles and adds a sentence that sounds like encouragement. Then she brings to my lips a cup with herbal tea. The taste is somewhat bitter, perhaps similar to what they've made me drink in the canoe. Every sip seems to pour a little more strength into my body. Then the young woman closes her eyes and moves her head to the side with the joined palms next to it, suggesting I should go back to sleep.

♣

I don't see the Sun through the window anymore. Yet, it's still light outside. For how long have I been in this room? Or is this my first day here? I can move my head and arms a little now, but the rest of my body is still numb. The positive part is that the pain is gone. The man is sitting on a chair at the table, writing something on a sheet of paper. Through the open window, I can smell the pleasant fragrance of the flowers from the garden.

"Hello," I utter in a weak voice. I can hardly hear my own words. Nonetheless, the man puts the pencil down, turns his head, and looks at me. He replies in this unknown tongue, yet I can't follow what he says. I point the index finger to my chest and say: "Alberto."

The man understands this is my name.

"Eori," he replies.

We smile at each other. I touch the bed and say: "bed." He touches it and says: "lito." It sounds more like "leetoh."

The wall, table, chairs, and window are brought into focus in the same way while I point towards them. The effort makes me tired, but I'm happy I can begin to communicate with these people. Soon, probably seeing my exhausted expression, the man closes his eyes and tilts his head to the side, saying: "dormo." This time I know what he means, it has to be the word for sleep. I repeat after him: "dormo," then descend into the realm of dreams.

♣

Probably one more day has passed. My health continues to improve. Now I can lift my body in a sitting position for a short time. I still can't feel or control my legs. On a chair placed near my bed lie several empty sheets of paper. Next to them is a pencil: a narrow charcoal cylinder inserted in a long tube made of a reed-like plant. It looks as good as the pencils from my country. The paper is slightly rough to the touch and has a vague greenish color, yet otherwise appears to be of decent quality. I suppose it's made from a species of local reed, perhaps similar to the Egyptian papyrus. My rescuers must have left the sheets here for me to take notes, to learn new words. And I feel grateful for their gesture.

The young woman comes in again, and I learn that her name is Nivit. My eyes see clearly now and can't stop admiring her beauty. She reminds me of the princess from Gold City, hence the feeling of familiarity when I saw her face for the first time. The long black hair, the oval face with pale skin, the black eyes with arched eyebrows, the full lips, and the delicate nose give her an aristocratic and slightly oriental appearance. She looks like a sister of the princess. Yet, now I doubt that my memory of the king's daughter is correct. I only saw her in my long dream, in a dream where I remained trapped inside a giant underground maze.

I point to my wooden box from the table. Nivit nods, reaches for the case, and lays it gently into my hands. I open the lid slowly. The notebook and the pencils are inside, all in good condition. I look at Nivit and smile, expressing a wordless "thank you," happy for not losing my little treasure.

Soon I shall start to fill the remaining pages from my log with more notes about the recent events. Yet, I would like for the time being to focus on expanding my vocabulary in the local language. In the next ten minutes, I learn a few more words and write them down on the sheets of paper brought by my new friends. Then the young woman feeds me with some cereal balls made of brown seeds and tasting like cooked rice.

♣

Day after day, strength trickles in small drops back into my body. I can feel and move my legs again, but I'm still too weak to stand up. My sleep intervals are now shorter, and I can stay awake for one hour at a time. In the garden outside, white birds are flying among trees with orange-like fruits. At the edge of the sky, the tall mountains with their peaks covered in snow guard the horizon.

At night, my rescuers use luminous globes to chase the darkness away. They are similar to the ones in the city. If the windows are left open, moths with blue wings come in and begin to circle leisurely around these unusual sources of light. I'm surprised to see the globes here, too. What makes them stay alight for such a long time? What kind of fuel do they use?

With the expansion of my vocabulary in their language, communication with the local people improves in small steps. The grammar is simple and regular. The words are easy to learn and pronounce, for most of them have Latin roots. One can build new constructs by combining basic blocks while following clear and easy-to-remember rules. Ideas, concepts, questions, and answers: all fly back and forth between the locals and me, like a swarm of butterflies. Little by little, I learn about how I was discovered and rescued.

Eori and Nivit were in the area close to the canyon, collecting plants with healing properties, when they found me unconscious next to the fire that was still burning. I was lucky to be stumbled upon by them less than a day after I arrived in that area. The poison from the lizard's bite was already on its way to achieve a full effect on my body. Had they reached me just a few hours later, my journey to the World of Shadows would have been one with no return.

What I believed to be a fever generated by an infection of the wound was, in fact, the effect of the poison from the beast's saliva. The exposure to the low water temperature during my journey on the makeshift raft cooled my body and slowed down the blood circulation. It delayed the spread of the toxin, and I could survive to see another sunrise. However, the sunrays and the heat from the fire sped up the destructive process the next day, and I was already on the verge of death when my rescuers discovered me. Paradoxically, it was the smoke from my fire in such an unpopulated area that drew their attention and ultimately gave them a chance to bring me back to life.

So, perhaps I can say the fire did save me in the end, despite having its heat increase the speed of my body destruction. As they spotted the remains of the lizard on the tiny raft from the bank and my wounded leg, Eori and Nivit correctly guessed the cause of my sickness. They were able to start treating me right away with an infusion of plants designed to neutralize the effects of the poison and pull it out of my body. The leaves I had used for the bite would have been good enough for a typical wound but proved to be inefficient for that situation.

♣

As the days went on, I began taking short walks inside the garden and visited the rest of the settlement. It was a village with twenty-five houses, all made of precisely cut blocks of stone and covered with wooden tiles painted in green. Each building was quite large and had three or four rooms. A rectangular network of narrow alleys linked the houses to each other. The village area extended to the river bank and was bordered by ponds and forests in the opposite direction. Most people living here, almost a hundred souls, were farmers or fishermen, but also occasional hunters on the nearby mountain slopes. I felt safe in this place, confident that no soldier from Gold City would follow me this far through the treacherous canyon.

The locals spoke this musical tongue regular in structure and easy to learn. It was surprisingly similar to some languages from our world and especially close to Latin. The river, named Kai, was about one hundred yards wide here, crossing a relatively flat ground near the village. The climate was pleasant at this time of the year, with warm days and moderately cool nights.

Four days after I had woken up inside Eori's house, I was already conversational in their language. The new words were easy to remember. And at night, while sleep, I had the strange feeling that someone was reciting them to me over and over again, trying to make sure I won't forget anything. Their tongue didn't have a name. They called it "Lingvo," meaning "language." What amazed me was that Nivit, Eori, and also Etin, the village chief, learned my language at least as fast as I was learning theirs, even though it had an irregular structure and more word roots. Once they heard a word in my tongue and its translation, it would stick to their brains as if they had known it for a long time.

Unlike in the city, I did not see here many objects made of gold. Stone, wood, steel, and sometimes silver were the standard materials used in construction, for tools, or artifacts. Using my limited vocabulary and several sheets of paper to illustrate my ideas, I asked the villagers about the large city-port on the coast. Instead of the expected affirmative answer, I've received surprised looks. They knew nothing about Gold City and replied that, based on their knowledge, the whole region along Kai River upstream from their settlement was uninhabited. Only traveling downstream for about two days, you could find another village: Vol. Then, going for another week, one would pass several more villages and finally reach a city named Sen.

From the amount of time needed to arrive there by canoe, that city sounded more than two hundred miles away. Obviously, it was not in the area where I expected to find _Excelsior_. All this time, I had had the feeling that the Kai River was turning to its right in a wide curve. Therefore, I expected to see it reaching the sea after twenty or thirty miles. It behaved as if it had been artificially built, patched up from many independent pieces by an inexperienced architect, or perhaps by someone with a quite twisted mind. Yet, who would bring to life such a place? And why?

I asked again the villagers about the nearest place where I could get to the ocean's shore. They told me the coast was behind the mountains, maybe thirty miles away. However, the region on the other side was difficult to cross, uninhabited, and inhospitable. People hadn't ventured there for decades.

The river itself flew into the sea, but much farther away and in the opposite direction. It took about two weeks to navigate along its stream until reaching the coast. And yes, there was a large city there, but its name was Adir. By my estimates, I had already traveled about seventy-five to eighty miles from Gold City to Eldor. Two weeks by canoe downstream along the river would mean at least another four hundred to four hundred and fifty miles. The island was quite large, indeed. Or maybe it was a continent?

My mastery of the local language continued to improve. Helped by drawings, I could now tell these people my own story. They were surprised to learn about the connection between our two worlds, about our ship, and the large quantity of gold from Gold City. Still, I didn't tell them everything, keeping quiet about the part with the human cocoons. Somehow, I felt like I would miss the chance to solve the mystery of that place if I talked about it here.

Then I tried to tell them about my world, with its large cities, carriages pulled by horses, guns and cannons, clocks and pocket watches, piano and violin music, our steam machines, our experience in map drawing and sea navigation, and our sciences: astronomy, geography, medicine, biology, chemistry, and physics. Even though my vocabulary numbered now over five hundred words, this proved to be a difficult task, for many of the concepts involved here didn't have an equivalent in the locals' language. However, despite my narrative clumsiness, my new friends were happy to hear my verbal descriptions. Also, while listening to them, they often wrote down notes on their sheets of paper.

I only had my broken pocket watch as something specific to my realm, so I showed it to the villagers. Ezer, the steel master, was deeply impressed by its appearance. He asked me if I would allow him to fix it. I was skeptical about the odds of having my watch repaired in a place that probably had no access to the required tools. However, I agreed and entrusted it to him.

Ezer took the watch to his workshop where, with infinite care, opened it up and cleaned the rusty parts from inside with plant oil. Then he reheated and reshaped the cracked glass in front of a small furnace, using delicate steel pliers.

The next day, Ezer brought the watch back in excellent working condition. My mouth dropped open when I saw it. I admired the quality of his repair, hardly able to believe my eyes. If these "primitive" people, who dwelt in an isolated village and lived a simple life, could do what Ezer had just done, what were their limits if they tried to be like those in my world? Who were they? Perhaps, even better said: what were they? From where had they come? I went to Nadar, the village teacher, and asked him these questions. However, he avoided a direct answer. Therefore, I decided to drop the matter for the time being.

My feeling that this world was not natural, not created by God at the beginning of time or soon after but built recently by someone who was not all-powerful, continued to intensify. Other issues that did not fit were the proper names, for both people and places. They were supposed to resonate with the spoken language and have some meaning in it, yet they didn't. All of them sounded like coming from another tongue, one that nobody spoke anymore.

I got a partial explanation for the fuel used by the light globes. The unusual sources of light were made of hollow glass spheres that enclosed tiny luminous organisms. The creatures could feed on rotting wood or certain types of stone. One could find them at night on trunks of dead trees or inside caves. Occasionally, the villagers harvested them when they needed new sources of illumination.

If regularly fed, the colonies inside the shells of glass could thrive for months, even for years. However, inside the maze of caves near Gold City, it seemed no one had fed the globes for decades or even centuries. How could they stay lit that long? Yet, how can we explain the things from our dreams? Earth also has creatures that produce this type of light, but their luminosity is much fainter.

The villagers used an alphabet with rounded symbols, as simple as ours, probably identical with the one from Gold City. I learned to read and write in it with confidence in less than a week. Nadar was particularly helpful in this endeavor. I was now spending about six hours a day in his studio, learning to speak the locals' language. Both Nadar and I were working on making a good dictionary. Yanit and Evelle, a married couple, and Tevit, a young girl, sorted the words in order on small pieces of paper in both alphabets, planning to copy them later into a large notebook to be used like a dictionary.

Just seven days after my arrival in Eldor, our list already had almost two thousand words. We could use the dictionary to express most things in ordinary conversations. I was still surprised how fast these people learned my language but also stunned by my speed in learning theirs.

I already knew by name everybody from the village. Their physical appearance suggested a trace of Asian ancestry in their blood. Their faces had harmonious features that would make one think they came from noble families. The men were well-built and of average height. The women, a bit shorter, looked delicate and charming. Yet, physically they were almost as strong as their masculine counterparts. Most men and women wore their dark hair long, tied to the back. Nobody looked older than fifty.

The attire worn by the locals varied in color and shape. The clothes were designed with practicality in mind but didn't lack a certain esthetic sense. Most days, the villagers would don a pair of trousers, a long-sleeved shirt, and a jacket. The women's clothes were similar to men's but usually covered by little embroideries. The women wore dresses or skirts only for festive occasions. For shoes, I saw sandals, shoes, or boots. I was a bit surprised by the low number of children. The locals told me in ambiguous terms that they could control their birthrate and preferred to maintain their population low, to avoid straining the local resources.

♣

_July 3 —_ Another day is coming to an end. I'm getting back to my log, trying to put some order in my thoughts. I hope the remaining sheets of my notebook can help me do that.

After narrowly escaping from the claws of death, I woke up in this isolated village with friendly people. I have to thank Eori and Nivit for saving my life. Like in Gold City, I haven't seen any old persons here. I asked the locals about this unusual phenomenon. They had difficulties understanding my question. Besides, they seem to have a lifespan longer than ours. It is also a bit complicated to convert the terms representing "year" and "month" because the units used by natives are different.

Now, going back to Gold City and thinking about the cocoons filling the forest, why were those people there? Were they all old? Maybe some were sick? Was that place a cemetery for their dead? Or perhaps could it be that they did not die but changed into something else? Cocoons always make me think of butterflies.

"What happens to your people when their lives end?" I asked the village chief a few days ago.

"When their life force is almost gone, and the destruction of their body is near, they leave us," Etin replied.

I thought he meant "they die" and did not insist further. So, I'll have to assume these people look young and in good shape until they come near the end of their lives. It seems Nivit's mother left her in the same way when she was little. I could not find any details about this event from her life, anyway. In any case, there is no cocoon forest near the village, and nobody has "died" in Eldor this year, whatever "death" means to them.

This afternoon Nivit took me fishing. When she focused her attention on the fishing line, I was glancing at her discreetly, admiring her amazing complexion and body shape. She speaks my language now better than I can speak hers. Her physical perfection is well-balanced with a mind as sharp as a razor. Seeing Nivit day after day, I know that love has taken deep roots in my heart, and its flower will open soon.

I'm still incompletely recovered. To get my full strength back, I may need to stay in the village for another week or two. There are still some traces of the lizard's poison left in my body. The bite has left a big scar above my ankle, but it's healing well. Any physical strain makes me tired. So, I try to limit myself to short walks in the garden and some fishing, preferring to spend most of my time learning from Nadar or talking to Nivit. I have the feeling that she is not indifferent to my attention, either. What if I bring her to my ship and then to my world? Will she agree to spend the rest of her life with me, far away from her people?

Looking at my adventures so far, I realize that our arrival on the Island was a matter of pure luck. One cannot create at will the conditions that enable a crossing between our worlds. If Nivit comes with me, she may never see her village again. So, another question comes to life: can _Excelsior_ go back at all? When I think of the historical accounts, most ships that reached the Island returned to Earth eventually. Hence, it seems it's much easier to go back than to come here. However, I feel that one needs to fulfill certain conditions to make this happen.

Perhaps I could forget about my people and stay in this village for the rest of my life? I would do farm work, fish, and sometimes hunt, like everybody else. I could spend many evenings in the library, reading from the available books and writing a few myself, for Eldor has a pressing machine, even though most tomes are hand-written.

I would see Nivit every day. Then maybe we could start a family, have kids, teach the villagers about my world, improve life here, and make it more interesting. Back then, the people from Gold City would have forgotten about me, and I should be at no risk of being captured when paying them a visit in a more distant future.

However, to visit Gold City, I need to find a different route from the one I used to come here. It would be impossible to paddle a canoe through the gorge while going against the powerful river stream. Scaling the rocks and trekking around the canyon is not going to be an easy task, either. The villagers told me that all the mountains upstream have vertical slopes, impossible to climb without ropes.

Yet, before staying here for good, I have to fulfill my duty to my captain and my crew. They need to know I'm alive. I want to give them a copy of my log plus all the other useful observations about what I have experienced, the places visited, and the people encountered inland.

♣

_July 4 —_ My body is still weak, but I can do farm work for short intervals of time. The Eldorians grow many types of plants. That includes fruits, vegetables, and a cereal similar to both wheat and rice named aledo (pronounced "alaydo"). The name of the village comes from the name of the people, but its origin and meaning are lost. The local climate favors agriculture. Every few days, rain falls for one hour or so, keeping the ground moist and the crops healthy. Another unusual thing is that the villagers don't have domestic animals or pets. Also, I don't remember seeing mice or rats since I came to the Island.

I brought several big stones from the river bank and began doing various exercises with them in my hands, to work out my muscles and regain my previous level of fitness. Some villagers found this idea funny and gathered around to watch my training, with grins on their faces.

Nivit spends a lot of time with me lately. Most afternoons, I continue to work with Nadar and the others to improve the dictionary. The list now has almost four thousand words. Almost without realizing it, we have become fluent in each other's language. Communication difficulties are a thing of the past. Eori continues to watch over my health. I still take between meals the medicine prescribed by him. Somehow I've got the feeling this treatment is also having a powerful effect on my memory, improving it significantly and helping me assimilate their language must faster than under normal circumstances.

_July 5 —_ I'm recovering quicker than expected. I can run without stopping for one minute and can also do ten pushups. I have asked the Eldorians if they have four seasons here, like in my country. They answered affirmatively. It's just that their winter is mild and does not have any snow. Snow is something to be found only high up in the mountains.

Their year is shorter than ours, having only two hundred and seventy-three days. It is divided into nine months, each thirty days long. The villagers call the three days left the Days of Year Change. These days are not part of any month. Every 11 years, they add a fourth day to correct the calendar. A month ("monato") is subdivided into ten-day intervals, which are called "tagdekoj" (pronounced "tag-deh-koy"), this meaning "ten days."

In some ways, their calendar is more practical than ours. However, I shall continue to use the one from my world in my log for the sake of consistency. Now it's also summer here, and it is the 16th day of the 5th month. For distance, weight, or volume, they employ empirical units based on body measures, as most of the people from my world used to do until a few centuries ago.

The big moon from this sky takes a little over seventeen days and a half to move around their world, which is called Esyon (pronounced "Ayseeon"). The angle of its orbital plane with the ecliptic is higher. Even so, I suppose the solar eclipses are more frequent here than on Earth, for this celestial body has a larger angular diameter. The interest in astronomy is not so high here. Hence, the village doesn't have a calendar for eclipse prediction. The Eldorians told me that about every couple of years, the Moon passes in front of the Sun, and the world sinks into darkness for a short while. Last time, this happened a few months ago. Therefore, I suppose I won't witness an eclipse any time soon.

Checking time with my watch, I was surprised to find out that their day is also twenty-four hours long. Or, anyway, really close to this value. This synchronization between our worlds can't be a coincidence. I read many astronomy books over the years, and I'm familiar with the opinions of the scholars from my world about life on other planets. Some would be hotter, some colder than Earth; their day-length should vary greatly. Some would be larger, some smaller, so a person's weight would change accordingly. I have no means for precise measurements: I would need a well-calibrated spring scale. But my subjective feeling is that the gravitation here is quite close to that on Earth.

Based on the entirely different stars and constellations from this sky, I have concluded I must be far, far away from my world. On Earth, we don't know precisely how far apart the stars are from each other, but we are aware that the size of our Solar System is insignificant compared to these distances. Many scientists believe the stars are suns, and so do I. Perhaps quite a few have planets. _Excelsior_ must have sailed somehow to a different planet from a different solar system, passing through a giant hidden gate that linked us directly to the other realm.

A different sun shines above my head. It's larger, paler, and colder. My feet step on the soil of a different world. How can these two planets be sometimes connected so closely, allowing people to cross from one realm to another as if there was no space between them? How can such immense celestial distances be made so short? This thing is beyond my comprehension. Maybe future generations will better understand this phenomenon. I've talked about these things with Nivit. She followed my ideas with interest, glad to hear me sharing my thoughts with her.

_July 6 —_ Using my watch as a model, Ezer began working to make a copy of it. With his skills and tools, he hopes to have it finished in about a week. I'm astonished by the abilities of these people. Later, Ezer intends to use my drawings of a telescope to build one to observe the stars himself.

Rem, the village priest, told me that two complementary realms make the world: Esyon and Nosyon. Esyon is the realm we see, the place in which we live. The other half, Nosyon, is almost like a mirror of it, the other face of the same coin. Some say their sun is our moon and the other way around. People live there, too. However, they are not like us.

"Is Nosyon the place I come from?" I asked him.

"No, your realm is a separate entity that seems to sometimes connect to our world through a desoro," Rem replied.

He could not clearly describe what a desoro is. Nobody else from the village could. The closest word to it is "tunnel." From where did Rem take this concept? He could not come with a clear answer.

Every day, Nivit continues to spend many hours in my company. She is an accomplished physician, taking after her father. She also shows a keen interest in physics and astronomy, absorbing like a sponge all the info I share with her on these topics. With access to the right resources of education from my country, she could become a first-class scientist.

_July 7 —_ I ask again the Eldorians who are they and where is their place of origin. Etin says his people have lived here for a long time. He suggests I read the books in their library. I already did that. I went through the several hundred tomes filling the shelves there and found no answer to my questions. However, I decide to obey his advice. So I get back inside the building and check all the titles one more time.

Most books are chronicles of the village, going back in time for more than two centuries. Some tomes are medicine textbooks, similar to those from Earth, describing the use of plants for treating various diseases. I also discover a few scripts that contain poems, songs, legends, and fairy tales about this place and some places downstream. In addition to those, there are books about agriculture and hunting. A few more are about building houses or describe the methods of metalworking. And, as I have already seen before, the library has nothing about this world's history or geography.

I try to find more about Nivit's mother in the village records, yet there is no information about her. Some books are missing, and the Eldorians don't know what happened to them. Or perhaps they don't want me to find out about certain occurrences of the past.

The volumes related to the history of Eldor travel in time for about two hundred and fifty terrestrial years. They describe the local people's occupations and the most important events, with gaps in a few places. Nothing different from today's life and no answers about the origin of the village. Two hundred and fifty years ago, it was already here. Even the number of people was close to that of today. There is no data from before that time.

In the end, I'll probably have to give up asking these questions. It seems the locals don't have answers for me. They saved my life and helped me fully recover from the poisonous bite of the killer lizard. They are my friends, and I have no reason to be suspicious of them.

I expected to need another week to get back in shape, but my healing has sped up during the past couple of days. I'm already making plans for the trip towards the coast. Gravity surely works strangely on this planet. This river probably originates near Gold City. Based on my travel, I should expect Eldor to be at least one thousand five hundred or even two thousand feet below sea level. However, something tells me that the ocean on the other side of the snowy ridges is significantly lower than the altitude of the houses surrounding me.

I ask Nivit if anyone has recently ventured beyond the mountains. She thinks for a minute, frowns slightly, and responds: "Nobody has gone beyond the ridge in a long time."

"I have to return to my ship and tell my captain about my inland journey," I say. "Do you have any map of the mountains?"

"You already know we don't use maps," Nivit replies, a faint smile spreading on her lips.

"That's too bad. A map would be great for a long trip. In this case, I suppose I'll have to rely on my orientation abilities to reach the sea. Once on the shore, I plan to build a small raft from trees that grow in that area, sail along the coast, and rejoin my people who might still be near Gold City."

"Do you plan to go with them back to your world?" she asks with an intense look in her eyes, her cheeks blushing.

"Would you like to come with me and visit my land?" I retort, raising my eyebrows and smiling.

Her eyes brighten, then she returns my smile, looking and me intensely. We both blush, then step close to each other. I touch her hair lightly. Nivit puts her arms around my neck and kisses me.

"I was hoping to hear this," she says. "Even though no one from the village has traveled to the sea, many people have explored the slopes facing Eldor. We can guide you through the first half of the trip and will help you with the rest until you rejoin your crew."

I kiss Nivit again and hold her in my arms for a long time. A dozen steps away, the Kai River continues its quiet flow to the north, away from my destination.

♣

_July 8 —_ I have begun my preparations for the trek over the mountains. My presence here and my stories about Earth seem to have had quite an impact on the villagers. The locals look as if awakened from a deep slumber. Pulled out from their isolation, all the Eldorians are suddenly interested in science, technology, and exploration trips. They would also like to visit my world someday. I manage in the end to convince most of them to stay in the village for the time being. Only Nivit, Eori, and a young man named Ron will come with me to _Excelsior_.

Our party needs new boots and warm clothes to survive the high altitude crossings among the peaks covered in snow. The Eldorians are skilled craftsmen. From antelope skin, they are making new pairs of footwear for our team, based on their design. Their boots are much better than the ones from my world, which I'm still currently wearing.

The new clothes that have just replaced my torn military uniform are woven from a sturdy fiber that looks like linen. My companions and I will also use coats made of bear skin to protect us from cold. These bear skins will be combined with small blankets to keep us warm when sleeping. We'll cover our heads with fur caps and our hands with leather mittens so we can withstand the cold temperatures on the top of the mountains.

Everyone from the village is helping with the preparations. Based on my suggestions, we shall also build two tents. We'll use rods from bamboo-like plants as a frame to maintain their shape. Two layers of waterproof canvas painted in black are going to absorb sunlight and prevent humidity from reaching the people sleeping inside. Short ropes and metal pegs will anchor the collapsible shelters solidly to the ground.

Leather backpacks will enclose our equipment and food supplies consisting of aledo, dried fruits, dried fish, and dried antelope meat to last for a whole week. Everything else is going to come to us by fishing, hunting, or fruit picking along the way. We need five or six more days to be ready for our trip.

_July 9 —_ The preparations for the trip are going fine. I'm still intrigued by how quickly I've learned to speak the Eldorian language. Yet, many Eldorians speak my language even better. And Nivit is as beautiful as an angel!

Three men came today by canoe from Vol, trading linen clothes and hunting bows for orange-like fruits and antelope skins. They were wearing light leather boots and were dressed in tight linen trousers and shirts, with long coats made of antelope skin worn over their shoulders. I talked to them for a while and got the conclusion that Vol is a village very much alike Eldor, where people speak the same language and have similar occupations.

Vol, Sen, Adir. The world downstream certainly looks interesting. Yet, there is no time to visit it. My duty calls me in the opposite direction, back to _Excelsior_.

_July 10 —_ With a few simple angular measurements, I have estimated the distance to the peaks in the ocean's direction to eighteen miles and their height to about ten or eleven thousand feet above the village. My raw drawings fit well with the fact that the sea should be right behind those ridges. It's a bit strange that the Eldorians don't use maps.

I think we can cross the mountains in three or four days. Then we are going to build a makeshift raft on the shore, using small axes to chop the needed wood. We shall also transform the tent's canvases into a sail. All this work might take one day or two. If the weather is good and the currents favorable, we can arrive at _Excelsior_ in another two or three days.

_July 13 —_ I was so busy with the trip preparations that I've omitted adding new notes for the last two days. Everything is ready. We are going to cross the river tomorrow morning, then we shall proceed southwards, towards the white peaks of the mountains. Yesterday afternoon, I saw Ezer with an almost perfect replica of my watch. His model is just slightly larger. It took him another four hours to fix its accuracy by comparing its working with mine. By evening, his watch appeared to be as precise as the one from my pocket.

I wanted to see the tools used by Ezer to craft the pieces needed for the new watch. However, he declined to show them to me, apologizing for the inconvenience and saying that he is bound by an oath to keep them secret. After a while, I had to give up. These people seem to have access to technologies way beyond their lifestyle. Perhaps they don't trust me sufficiently to show me everything they own and know. I can only hope that in time their attitude will improve enough to accept me as one of them.

So, tomorrow we're setting off for the coast. I'll miss this beautiful village where I was nursed back to life by Eori and Nivit. This place, where the delicate flower of love opened in my heart. I leave Eldor as a man born for a second time. Soon I shall see my ship and crew again. Then, hopefully, Nivit will accompany me on the return trip to my world.

### kappa

_July 14, 1 p.m. —_ Our journey begins soon after 8 a.m. The people from Eldor gather at the edge of the village to wish us good luck. We say goodbye to each other, then Etin and Rem take us by canoe to the other bank of the river.

Initially, the trek is comfortable, with the terrain almost flat and easy to move through. Each of us is carrying between thirty and forty-five pounds worth of food supplies and equipment. At noon, we take a break and eat for lunch a few fish caught in a small pond found along the way, combined with dried fruits from our bags.

We have already advanced about ten miles, leaving behind forests and grasslands. Now, we're getting close to the mountain peaks and shall start climbing them this afternoon. With Nivit, Eori, and Ron by my side, I'm confident I can go past any obstacle.

_3 p.m. —_ The terrain is rising. First, we trek over some hills. Then we reach a rocky area with a steeper slope. Our speed slows down considerably. Moving ahead in large zigzags, our group begins to climb a narrow path. This lane is probably made by herds of relatively large animals, most likely a species of antelopes, judging by a few hoof prints still visible on the ground.

The mountains are bare, with only small patches of short grass and lichens growing here and there. Trees are rare. The ones we occasionally spot are all from coniferous species, and only visible in areas less exposed to winds. Massive gray-blue whinstone rocks are everywhere. Far away and much higher, close to the horizon line, I can glimpse something looking like a narrow canyon.

_8 p.m. —_ We reach the pass by nightfall. The landscape is bleak. There is no firewood. We can't find any fruits to pick, fish to catch, or game to hunt. So we have dinner from our provisions. A brook with crystal clear water flows nearby, and we use it to refill our water skins. The antelope footprints are gone. They have dissipated onto tracks across the mountain slopes, away from the narrow canyon that leads to the coast.

The tents prove to be a valuable protection against the cold wind. As the rules of decency impose it, Nivit is sharing a canvas shelter with her father while I partake the other one with Ron.

We have brought two light globes, carried inside cushioned wooden boxes. Before falling asleep, I spend another hour writing down a few notes and reviewing my Eldorian vocabulary. Even now, it's hard for me to accept the fact that my three friends speak my tongue better than I speak theirs. Anyway, we use both languages when talking to each other.

♣

_July 15 —_ Compared to my escape from Gold City, the return trip promises to be relatively pleasant and enjoyable, despite the difficulties brought by the high altitude trek. I hope we shan't encounter any nasty surprises this time. My journey from the coast to Eldor was so full of obstacles and pain that I came to appreciate the routine of the present expedition. Despite my hurry to reach _Excelsior_ , I can't prevent myself from enjoying this trek.

We have a quick breakfast of aledo, fish, and dried fruits early morning. Then we step into the narrow pass. I walk with Nivit in front. Ron and Eori follow us a few steps behind. The trees are gone. We can only spot dry bushes that grow here and there on the steep side-slopes. We collect some of their sprigs for later use as firewood.

The path is climbing: higher and higher, steeper and steeper. The side-slopes have turned into vertical walls, reaching a height of more than a thousand feet. They keep our path in half-darkness most of the time. Even with ropes, the rocks would be hard to scale. We can only follow the pass.

I suppose we are now more than four thousand feet higher than the village location. However, with the twisted space of this world, you can never be sure of anything. Nevertheless, supporting my estimate, the air has become thinner and colder, as expected.

Sometimes, the people from Eldor come here to hunt mountain antelopes and even bears. Still, nobody tried to reach the coast-facing side in recent times. Why do they stay so isolated? They often visit their surroundings but avoid the exploration of faraway places. I find it hard to understand. These villagers lead a simple life, yet they are highly intelligent. They practice efficient agriculture, know a lot about herbal medicine, and are skilled craftsmen. I'm sure Ezer could have made a violin or a gun if I had shown him a model, or at least a detailed drawing of it.

The Eldorians are always into learning new things. They attempt to collect inside their library all the valuable knowledge they can get. Even so, their past remains shrouded in mystery. Nobody knows how old the village of Eldor is.

The villagers know well the downriver from traders who visit their place a few times a year. Yet, they know nothing about what lies beyond the rapids upstream. I suppose the Eldorians take occasional trips along the trader routes, but this doesn't happen often. What stops them from traveling? And why did their attitude towards exploration change when they heard my stories about Earth? Their behavior looks a bit strange. Well, I'll have to assume it appears to be so due to our cultural differences.

_11 a.m. —_ The climb ends in front of an oval plateau. After another fifty yards, we reach the entrance of a tunnel. Surrounded by the same vertical cliffs, I feel like a little mouse inside a cauldron. If the cave doesn't take us further along, we'll have to go back and find another pass. This detour could take days, as I didn't spot on our way here any other path that might go across the mountains.

We stop to rest and have lunch. Then we'll enter the cave and continue our trip later in the afternoon, assuming this is possible. Ron says the people from the village have traveled along this path a few times in the past. I guess a lot of it goes underneath the cliffs. I wonder why no one from the village told me about this route before our trip began.

"Has this path been build by somebody? What do you think?" I ask my friends.

"Probably not," Eori says. "It must have been shaped by the water coming from the snow melting in the spring."

Well, the walls look irregular enough for the galley to be natural. I suppose Eori is right.

The sky is darkening. Unfriendly clouds gather above us in haste. We pick up our stuff and move into the cave. Inside, the gallery is climbing steeply, at an angle close to thirty degrees. Is this path going to lead us onto the other side of the ridge? We'll find out soon.

The tunnel is long and going upwards. And it is well ventilated. In the feeble light of the globes, we ignite the dry bush branches collected during the morning. The fire will keep us warm while we cook a meal from our food supplies. It's already raining outside. I can often see lightning flashes cutting the sky, immediately followed by thunders. The narrow valley amplifies their sound in deep tones. Long echoes come from all directions, again and again, like cannon shots. My three friends seem scared by the storm. I try to put their fears at ease, telling them what generates lightning and thunders. But they remain tense and uncomfortable.

_12 p.m. —_ Outside, in front of the cave's entrance, a small lake is taking shape. The water pouring along the walls of the pass is fueling it at a high rate. There is too much rain coming from above and not enough room for it to drain. The water level starts rising and begins to flood our cavern. We put off the fire and move to higher ground, deeper inside the gallery.

Sometimes I can see a dot of light flashing at the higher end of our tunnel. It appears for a fraction of a second when lightning fills the sky in that direction. An exit is there, leading to the other side of the ridge. It's raining harder and harder by the minute. A small stream begins to flow through the cave, too. We eat in a hurry some aledo and fish, then pack our things and proceed cautiously through the gallery. Again, I'm in front with Nivit while Ron and Eori follow us at some distance.

Suddenly, a deep vibration shakes the mountain. The ground jolts up and down, making us lose our balance. It feels like an earthquake. Is it possible that lightning has struck so hard it cracked the mountain? Or maybe a natural dam near the peak broke, and a massive amount of water, stones, and ice is rushing from above towards the narrow gorge?

An even more powerful rumble follows. The gallery is shaken up and down again, harder. Stones are falling from the ceiling, and we do all we can to avoid being hit by them, protecting our heads with our backpacks. A large rock crashes in the middle of the tunnel, slamming into the gallery's floor with a loud noise, jamming it, and cutting our party in two. Nivit and I are standing on the upper side while Ron and Eori are stuck in the lower section of the tunnel.

I turn my eyes to the entrance below. The passageway that brought us here is no more. A large piece of basalt blocks it. I try to push it aside with my hands. Alas, its massive weight makes my task impossible. The fallen rock has split our group in two. We can barely pick up each other's voices through the thick barrier of stone. Are Eori and Ron all right? I whisper a quick prayer for their protection while looking for a path to reach them.

"Are you hurt?" Eori's words are coming from the other side, muffled and distorted.

"We are fine!" Nivit shouts loudly in reply. "What about you two?"

"We're all right," her father calls back. "However, it seems the mountain demons can only allow two people to continue this journey. The boulder has fully obstructed the gallery. There's a good chance we won't be able to follow you and might have to head back to the village."

"What about the entrance?" I shout.

We can still glimpse it below us. It's undamaged. There should be no problem returning, once the storm is over and the water retreats."

Nivit's face is pale. I'm sure mine looks the same. Still, I'm relieved that none of us got hurt. But we're trapped on this side, and we can't go back through the gallery. And they can't reach us.

It's going to take at least a week to dig a hole large enough to squeeze through. Whinstone is a hard material. Our small axes can't easily cut through it. What's worse, the ceiling near the rock blocking the passage looks unstable and ready to collapse. More boulders could fall if we tried to clear the way, obstructing the tunnel even worse and eventually killing us in the process. We'd need to find a way to support the ceiling with something, perhaps build an arch of stones to hold the weight above. This work alone would need another couple of days.

Getting outside, then climbing up and down the rocks to reach Eori and Ron might take about as long. But can we even do it? More likely, we'd have to go out of the cave and look for a way around. If Ron and Eori tried to reach us, they'd have to do the same thing: go out of the canyon and find a different passage. This could easily take a week or even longer.

In either case, our food rations are going to dwindle considerably during the process. Once reunited, we'd all have to return to the village and start all over again. This plan is not practical. I want to reach _Excelsior_ as soon as possible. I'm worried I might be too late already. Are my people still near Gold City? Is it possible they have already left this world and returned to Earth?

I look at Nivit. We might have to continue our trip without them. We know it, and they know it. Even so, I want to talk to Eori and Ron. I want to hear what they think. Perhaps we can still find a way to continue the trip together.

For a few minutes, we discuss the options. We shout at each other next to the fallen rock. The sound of our voices can barely go through the blocked gallery. We'd probably need a week to get back to them by going around the ridge, assuming there is a passage somewhere. Then, as our rations deplete, it would take us three more days to return to the village, tired and hungry. Then we'd have to spend another three or four days to rest and prepare the trip back, this time needing to find a longer route around to take us to the sea. Overall, that's a delay of at least two weeks. And this plan is only going to work if we can find a passage.

If Eori and Ron try to get to us, this also means about a week of struggle, provided they can find another passage not so far away from this spot. But then we'd be all stranded in the middle of the mountains, with no food left and possibly with another week of traveling ahead. We'd be only one week late. However, without supplies, we might become too weak to reach the coast through the cold weather and hard terrain. This option sounds even worse. The conclusion is quick: only Nivit and I can continue the journey.

"Please, go in peace and come back soon," Eori calls from the other side of the rock. "My prayers are with both of you!"

"We shall wait in Eldor for your return!" Ron's voice echoes in a higher note.

We can't stay much longer here, anyway. The passage is clogged. The water pouring from above is filling the gallery on our side. It's already ankle-deep and soon will be chest-deep, unless the rain stops right now. We say goodbye to each other through a side opening too small to let anyone or anything useful through. There is nothing else we can do. Nivit and I shall continue our trip alone. Luckily we have with us half of the food supplies and one of the tents.

We climb through the passage. About five minutes later, we reach the other end of the tunnel. Shivering from cold, we walk in the rain along a narrow path squeezed between walls that seem to extend to the sky. No human could scale them without ropes. The rocks are full of cracks. Yet, these cracks are less than ten inches wide, way too narrow for a person to squeeze through. Only the water can find a path through to the other side, as it keeps flowing around our boots. We have to keep moving ahead. Soon we enter another gallery that goes in the same direction.

We stop around 2 p.m. to rest for a few minutes, then begin moving again. We keep on walking all afternoon, taking short breaks when we feel too tired and getting back on track as soon as we recover our strength. Sometimes we pass areas in the open, only to dive into another tunnel after a dozen steps. We can glimpse on the narrow sky above how the storm has lost its strength and changed into light rain. Ron and Eori are going to be safe.

And so we continue our journey, higher and higher. The luminous globe has enough fuel to last for at least another month. Therefore, we don't need to worry about the dark. It seems we'll have to trek like this a long way, probably until we cross the highest ridge and begin the descent on the other side.

We set camp for the night at 7 p. m. and try to get some rest in a spot where the gallery is a bit wider. I think we've covered another thirteen or fourteen miles through this mountain tunnel, but I might be wrong. The distances are always difficult to estimate in caves. We eat some fruits and dried fish, then the exhaustion of the long trek sends us quickly to sleep. Cut out from the rest of the world, we spend the night together for the first time, under the same blanket.

♣

_July 16, 1 p.m. —_ The gallery trail continues to climb higher and higher, with no end in sight. There are no more open areas. We walk through a tunnel buried deep in the heart of the mountains. I still can't make up my mind whether this underground passage is natural or artificial. I think we have covered another ten miles this morning. Both of us are getting tired and worried, longing for the teal color of the sky. The village of Eldor is now probably forty-three to forty-seven miles behind us, and the Oceans doesn't seem to be anywhere near.

Of course, forty-seven miles through narrow valleys and zigzagging passages can equal about twenty-five miles in a straight line. I have no compass and can't see the Sun, so I can't even guess our direction. For all I know, we might be moving away from the coast. Unfortunately, it doesn't look like we have a choice in this matter.

I exchange a long look with Nivit and say:

"Let's go on like this until evening. Without the Sun or a compass, there is no way to tell if we're still heading towards the sea. If we don't reach an exit tonight, then we turn back and try another path. Maybe climb the walls in one of the open areas that we passed yesterday. Perhaps we can do it if the rain has stopped."

Nivit agrees with a nod. She is as worried as me. Yet, she's also determined to keep going until we reach our destination. We talk about other choices but conclude there is nothing else we can do. The fatigue begins to take its toll. Our speed slows down considerably. Taking breaks every hour, we walk all afternoon for another ten miles or so.

_8 p.m. —_ Almost ready to give up, we finally reach an exit around 5 p.m. Our tunnel opens in front of a beautiful oasis with luxuriant vegetation surrounded by snowy peaks. It's a gorgeous garden full of fruit-bearing trees. A lake with clear water shines in the center, with several streams pouring into it from the nearby slopes. The air feels pleasant, like summer. Soon, we discover the source of this little heaven: the place is full of hot springs, keeping the garden's weather at almost tropical levels. Even the water from the lake is warm.

The oasis is spread over about half a square mile, filling a vast plateau bordered by vertical cliffs. We decide to spend the remainder of the day here, resting and refilling our food supplies. We take a swim in the lake, wash our clothes, then prepare dinner. This time we have a nutritious meal from freshly caught fish and fruits that look like pomegranates.

As soon as we finish eating, Nivit falls asleep with her head leaning against my chest. I lay her down to rest on the soft grass while I set up the tent close to the lake. When our shelter is ready, I carry her slender body inside. Then I also fall into a deep slumber, next to my love.

♣

_July 17, 11 a.m. —_ I searched the whole morning for a path to take us further. Meanwhile, Nivit was replenishing our food supplies with fruits and fish from the lake. Massive vertical walls, over one hundred and fifty feet high, surround the oasis. There is no further underground passage to take us out of here.

We only have two choices: scale the rocks that are in our way (and so we might also see where the ocean is), or retrace our steps through the tunnel that brought us here until we find a spot in one of the open areas where we can climb the walls. Only the first option makes sense. We don't have ropes, but I find long vines, similar to the ones I had used in the wilderness near Gold City. With tight knots, I manage to extend them into a line over a hundred feet long.

_3 p.m. —_ Our ascent begins at noon. I discover a small platform about sixty-seventy feet above and climb the rock leading to it with the heavy vine rope tied to my back. Then I use the vine to lift our bags one after another and help Nivit join me. We rest for ten minutes, wiping our sweat and trying to relax our muscles. I spot a rocky horn about forty feet higher and, after several attempts, succeed in wrapping the line around it.

We reach a new plateau fifteen minutes later. The final sixty feet are a bit easier, as we can take breaks on two narrow platforms on the way up. Finally, our feet step on the top. Yet, another ridge, much taller, is blocking our path. Luckily, after a short search, we find a lane carved by rain that goes around it. We can't see the ocean, but the Sun above shows we're going south. The vines are too heavy to carry, so we leave them here. I pray we don't encounter a similar barrier farther ahead. If we do, that will force us to come back after them.

_7 p.m. —_ Our path continues through a narrow pass, higher and higher. We keep climbing until nightfall. The air is thin, barely filling our lungs. Perhaps our current altitude is more than eight thousand feet above the valley of Eldor and certainly higher up above the sea level. It's getting colder by the hour. A narrow cave we find on a rock will serve as shelter for tonight. There's no need to set up our tent. We've probably come almost fifty miles through the mountains so far, and the shore is nowhere near. The village of Eldor must be at least sixty miles away.

Are we heading in the right direction? The Sun's position in the sky suggests we are. What seemed a routine return journey to _Excelsior_ is proving now to be a real challenge. Four days into our trek, and we are still in the middle of the mountains. However, I believe we must be close to the sea. Maybe tomorrow evening we can finally reach the coast. There is no wood to make fire. We have to eat our food the way it is and use each other's body heat to keep ourselves warm as we rest.

♣

_1 a.m. —_ A man's voice is calling me from a distance. The words sound vaguely Eldorian. However, the way of speaking is so different I can barely understand them. I wake up covered in sweat. Nivit is sleeping huddled at my chest, with her arms around my neck. There were two familiar words in my dream, and I push myself to remember them. The first sounded like "storm." And I also heard the word "snow." What could it mean? It takes a few more seconds until I make the connection: A snowstorm is coming!

Even though it was only a dream, my instinct says the voice belongs to someone who wants to help us. And he's right: our location is quite vulnerable. The little cave's entrance is too large, offering only limited protection from rain and wind. And we've got no wood to start a fire. But we can't leave now. Our bodies are exhausted. We need to rest more than anything. We're going to wake up early and tread at high speed towards the coast. Perhaps the other side of the mountain is safe. I close my eyes and go back to sleep with my arms wrapped tightly around Nivit's waist.

♣

_July 18 —_ The morning comes with menacing clouds that arrive from the north. As soon as we wake up, I tell Nivit about my dream. The clouds are quickly filling the sky. She looks at me with a grave expression, and we both know that only a rapid trek can save us. For a moment, the thought of rushing back to the oasis crosses our minds. Yet, the sky is already black over there. A compact wall of snow seems to be spreading from the oasis direction, expanding towards us, slowly engulfing the narrow pass already left behind.

"The mountain paths are treacherous," Nivit whispers. "Sometimes, they change in unexpected ways. Even if we could retrace our steps to the oasis, we can't be sure we're going to find it. And not in this kind of weather. The snowstorm would swallow us way before reaching it. If we try to return, we shall put ourselves in a much worse situation."

I look into her eyes. She's serious about the chance of not finding our way back to the oasis. Could such a thing happen in this realm? Perhaps it could. The incoming wall of snow looks deadly. The path behind us seems even more exposed to wind and snow. No matter how fast we moved, we'd be caught by the storm long before reaching the trees and the lake. We wouldn't stand a chance against it, not even for thirty minutes if it got us in the open.

"All right then! Let's get moving towards the peak as fast as we can," I reply in a tense voice.

We chew a couple of fruits as we pack our things rapidly and begin a quick-stepped stride along the lane that should take us towards the coast. Our hearts are racing from the physical strain. Our mouths are wide open most of the time, gasping for air.

We rarely talk and only stop for a few moments once in a while to drink a bit of water from the leather skins. When we have something to say, a simple gesture is usually enough to carry the message. We must pass the highest point and begin our descent towards the sea before the storm catches us. Once in a while, I have the feeling I can hear Nivit's thoughts.

At noon, we are already exhausted from the rapid trek. Our trail has poured from the side of the cliff into an even more narrow pass. Yet, overall the path is still climbing. The pass looks more like a deep valley now. The vertical sidewalls have turned into steep slopes. We continue our fast-paced trekking, but the peak is nowhere within our reach.

And then the snowstorm engulfs us. At first discreetly, with just a few snowflakes falling here and there. Then the wind picks up its pace quickly. A furious blizzard explodes around our bodies, painfully whipping our eyes, suffocating us, freezing the blood in our veins. Our hands and faces become numb within seconds, despite the fur caps and leather mittens we're wearing. Desperate, we look for a shelter. Anything that could shield us from the icy wind would do. After a few minutes of frantic search, we glimpse the entrance of a cave in the rocky incline on the left side of our path.

With the last drops of energy, we climb the slope covered by big stones and step inside. Our bodies are stiff and in pain. The blood is barely circulating through our limbs. Staggering, we move to the back wall, away from the cave's mouth, finally somewhat harbored from the deadly blizzard.

Our shelter is a large circular chamber dug in the rock, most likely by seasonal spring streams. The entrance lies about twelve feet above the path. The domed ceiling has a blue color, like a mock sky of stone. It is perhaps fifteen feet high in the center and about seven near the edges. We take off our backpacks and sit down to catch our breath, relieved to be saved, at least for the time being.

I was hoping to find a passage to take us deeper. However, the cave ends after only sixty feet. Even so, we're lucky to have found this shelter, or we would have died in the storm within half an hour. I notice a couple of cracks above the back wall. They are going up, way too narrow for a human to squeeze through. I suppose the water that carved this chamber pours through them every spring.

We set up our tent near the back wall of the cave so that we have additional protection from the cold. Then we'll try to rest until the storm ends. There is a small spring flowing near the back wall, and we fill our water skins from it. With the temperature dropping so much, the stream may soon freeze. We are exhausted from the long trek. After eating some dried fish and a few fruits, we fall instantly asleep in each other's arms, trying to keep our bodies warm.

The cold wakes me up at nightfall. I get out of the tent and check our shelter in the yellow light of the globe. The snow blown by the wind has filled the entrance. A white layer covers almost half of the floor. As expected, the spring froze solid when the temperature dropped. Our body heat, with all the clothes and blankets, might not be enough to keep us warm for long.

I return to the tent. Nivit is lying down with her eyes closed, shivering. Her face looks as pale as the snow outside. We have a frugal dinner and run in circles inside the cave for about half an hour. This speeds up our blood circulation. For a while, we don't feel so cold anymore. Still, for how long can we keep going like this? Inside the tent, we fall asleep shaken by muscle spasms, holding each other tightly for comfort and warmth.

♣

_July 19 —_ The blizzard keeps howling without respite, never relenting, never tiring. It has a low, deep voice that reverberates in long echoes over the mountain ridges. Like a giant beast without a defined shape, the wind rushes at high speed through the narrow pass, coming back a few moments later with renewed force. This cycle repeats again. And again. And again.

I make with my frozen hands an opening in the wall of snow that covers the entrance, trying to see what's going on outside. I can see how the whole pass is getting filled with an enormous white winter blanket. The blanket is about ten feet deep already and is getting thicker by the hour, piling up almost as high as our cave's floor level. Slowly, it hardens and begins to transform into ice.

In a spot near the edge that has some soil, I've used my ax to dig a hole. It's going to be our toilet in this closed space. The stream is frozen solid, and we'll soon run out of drinking water. Then we'll have to fill the leather skins with snow and warm them against our bodies until it melts. Despite the cold, we seem to be getting thirsty more often than usual.

The cold woke us several times during the night. All we could do was run in circles and jump up and down inside the cave for half an hour until we finally felt warm again. In the pale light of the globe, our shadows joined us, performing chaotic dances along the cave's walls. Then we went back to sleep, tortured by tiring and meaningless dreams until the cold dragged us once more out of the tent a couple of hours later.

This cycle of run and sleep continued until morning. I can survive like this for three or four more days, but Nivit seems to be suffering badly from the low temperature. Her face is becoming paler by the hour, and I'm beginning to fear for her life.

I cut with my knife blocks from the layer of hardened snow that has filled the cave entrance and begin building a protection barrier around the tent. I should like to make a dome around our portable canvas shelter, but the snow is not hard enough for it. Even so, this wall is going to prevent some of our bodies' heat from escaping too quickly outside.

A few hours later, we finally begin to feel some warmth inside our improved shelter. There is no chance to survive if we leave the cave in this weather. The best course of action is to wait patiently until the storm ends. We spend the rest of the day running in circles, telling stories to each other, eating, and sleeping.

_July 20 —_ The snowstorm rages outside for the third day, with no signs of slowing down. Even though the cold is not going to kill us for the time being, I'm worried about the decrease in our food supplies. To survive the cold, we need to eat more than usual. Food is the fuel that keeps our bodies warm. If we can't get out of here three days from now, we risk starvation and could soon freeze to death. Nivit suggests increasing our sleep time and reducing our daily rations. I agree with her. However, it's difficult to sleep for many hours in such intense cold.

_July 21 —_ This is the fourth day of the storm. Our situation has worsened. The temperature is dropping even more. The snow around the tent has partly melted, then it froze again, turning into ice. Yesterday, I could get enough hardened snow to cover the top of our shelter. Yet, despite the ice dome surrounding the tent now, the cold woke us repeatedly during the night. We had to use intense physical exercise to warm our bodies; our clothes are just not thick enough for this kind of weather.

Another extremely unpleasant issue is the periodic warming against my body of the leather skins filled with snow. Every time I do it, my muscles suffer painful spasms for many minutes until the snow inside finally melts. Unfortunately, I have to put up with it, as there is no other way to get drinking water. This cannot continue much longer. Nivit is not doing well at all. Her face is white and almost lifeless, her lips are blue, her hands and feet are cold, and she is shaken by shivers most of the time.

In the evening, my love falls into a deep sleep similar to hibernation. I can't wake her up anymore, and I'm too numb myself to think clearly. I slide into the world of dreams, trying to warm her body with mine.

♣

_July 22 —_ My eyes open in total darkness. I lift the lid of the box where we keep the luminous globe and fumble for my watch. It's right before dawn. However, this time I don't feel the intense cold anymore. Has the storm ceased? Probably not. I can still hear the wind howling outside. My hands and legs are completely numb, and I'm alone. Nivit is gone. She is not next to me; she is not inside the tent. Using all my willpower, I lift my body and crawl on elbows and knees out of the shelter. Inside the leather mittens, my fingers are frozen and don't react to my commands. I might lose them soon due to frostbite, for there is nothing I can do to get them warm again. My face is numb, too. And I feel pain in my eyes when I blink.

My thoughts are getting fuzzy. I suddenly see myself in a garden with trees full of oranges. A big red sun shines above, filling the air with a pleasant warmth. I'm so happy to be away from the deadly blizzard! So, I shall rest a bit here, only for a few moments, until I'm feeling better. I take a deep breath and sit down on the soft ground covered by yellow blades of grass.

A large fox shows up from behind a thick trunk, looking at me intently. Then it unexpectedly jumps high in the air, lands next to me a moment later, and bites my right hand. It hurts like hell, and I wake up, moaning. Where am I? What am I doing here? It takes a few more seconds to get back to reality. I'm lying down in a dark cave, trying to survive a snowstorm. I was here with Nivit, but Nivit has left our shelter, and I'm looking for her.

My frozen fingers are hurting now. That's a good sign. It means there's a chance they'll recover, provided I can warm them somehow. The truth is that the air does feel slightly warmer inside. My mind is still confused. What was I thinking a few moments before? Oh yes, I was thinking about Nivit. I have to find Nivit, but I'm too numb to stand up and walk.

Lifting myself into a sitting position, I do a few calisthenic exercises for my hands and legs to set my blood back in motion. I immediately feel painful stabs piercing my bones, my flesh, my skin. No, the dreadful cold is still here. And my body is losing the fight against it. But I'm still here. I'm still alive. This battle is still going on.

I slowly stand up and call her name repeatedly: "Nivit! Nivit! Nivit!"

No answer.

Taking the globe out of its box and grabbing it with my mittens, I finally stumble to my feet and begin to explore the dark cave with uneasy steps. I find it curious that the globe is still giving light in such a terrible cold, albeit way less than before. Are the luminous creatures inside able to survive in this dreadful frost?

I call Nivit's name again in a loud voice. No answer. Where is she? Perhaps this is only a dream? Yet, I can't take any chances. If she has lost consciousness somewhere inside the cave, she'll die soon if I don't bring her back to the tent to warm her body.

A white shape shines at the edge of the cave, not far from our shelter. When I come closer, I find a cocoon attached to the wall, large enough to enclose a human being. There is no sign of Nivit. Despite my confused state, I quickly understand that she must be inside the blurred enclosure. I suppose this is a self-defense mechanism aiming to protect her body from extreme harm. Her folded clothes are lying on the floor. To avoiding imminent death, a metamorphosis has begun. Or so it seems to me, anyway.

My thoughts go back to that night in the forest when I was wandering at the edge of Gold City. I remember the white forms spread among the trees and the old man who suddenly opened his eyes when I came close to him. Now, as much as then, I have no idea what's going on inside these silk wrappings. The only thing left for me is to wait.

I'm terrified. Perhaps I've lost her forever. What kind of being will emerge from this cocoon when the transformation has reached its goal? Is she going to be the same Nivit I knew and loved?

I shall probably die of cold anyway before I can see her coming back to the cave. Still, I won't go down without a fight. For as long as a glimmer of hope still exists, I shall cling to life with all my remaining strength.

Surviving alone is even tougher. I have to keep my body in motion all day. Now, that I have more food left for myself, I can eat double rations to increase my energy. But sooner or later I'll fall asleep and certainly shall meet death in my dreams. So, I'll have to stay awake. I believe I can survive about twenty-four hours with very little sleeping, possibly even forty-eight. All I need to do is walk non-stop around the cave and take only short rests for a few minutes every once in a while.

It's a bit warmer inside the tent. However, that little warmth is treacherous. The shelter would soon make me fall asleep, never to wake up again. So, I keep moving in circles through the cave. Sometimes I have the feeling I hear a distant voice in my head, perhaps the same voice that warned me about the snowstorm. Unfortunately, it's too faint to make out the words.

The hours pass slowly. I carry on with my painful movement through the cavern. For a better view of my surroundings, I set the luminous globe in the center of the hall, letting its fading light project my shadow along the walls. Now I feel like I have a companion in my circular walk. Wrapped in blankets and with both bearskin coats on, mine and Nivit's, I try to keep some warmth inside my body. I have covered my face with a scarf, leaving only my eyes out. Even so, it's so cold that my eyes hurt. My ocular muscles are almost frozen, and I can barely turn my pupils left and right.

I only stop every hour or so for food and drink. Sometimes I change direction but keep moving along the cave wall. This is the only way to stay alive. My clothes are not thick enough to keep me warm if I stop for more than a few minutes. Eating and drinking is not a simple process, either. If I'm not quick and precise, the water from the waterskin held close to my body freezes before I have a chance to swallow it. The same goes for food, which I also need to keep under my layered clothes for about half an hour before I can attempt to chew it. If I ever try to spit on the ground, the saliva freezes in the air. Using the toilet is another type of torture. I try to avoid it as much as I can.

Once in a while, I'm tempted to retreat inside the tent. But I resist this impulse, force myself to stay active, and go on with my drunken stride. Then the evening comes. Every hour or so, I sit down and doze for a few minutes, my back against the wall. So far, the shivers of my body and the cold managed to wake me up in time.

And so the hours pass by. The frost stays fierce. Relentless, the blizzard is raging outside. I suppose I would die in less than five minutes if I dared to venture into the open. I keep moving, hoping to see the storm end and the temperature rise before my body gives up.

Each time I pass by the cocoon, I feel fire needles piercing my heart. What's happening to Nivit now? Is she going to turn into a butterfly? Or maybe she'll become an even stranger creature? How long is this going to take? I don't care anymore about returning to _Excelsior_. I only want her back by my side. What if she has already died of cold behind the white shroud? However, I feel she's alive there. She can probably survive inside it better than I can manage here.

_July 23 —_ When the iron reign of the frost reaches its fifth day, my body begins to wear down. I never thought a snowstorm could last for so long in these mountains. I feel pain everywhere in my joints and muscles from the continuous walking. I've also pushed my lungs too hard, often forced to take deep breaths of the chilly air. I have to do frequent stops from my circular walk now, due to uncontrollable coughing fits.

With every lap I finish around the cave, I pass by the veil of silk that hides the woman I love. There is nothing I can do about her metamorphosis, except wait and try to stay alive. And so I keep going, dragging my feet inside the cave surrounded by snow and wind. Sometimes I think I see flashes of light or hear voices nearby. Yet, I know they only come from my loneliness and exhaustion.

In the evening, the fatigue is overcoming my will to stay alive. It's not the first time when I think my existence has reached its end. Yet, I don't see how anyone can save me now. There is no Nivit and no Eori to come and wake me up from the comfortable numbness of my final sleep. If Nivit can survive inside her cocoon, she's going to find my frozen body here when she gets out. I know she'll bury me under a heap of stones, also saying an appropriate prayer for the peaceful rest of my soul.

It's over. I can't move anymore. I think for a moment about crawling into the tent and dying there, but I decide against it. I'm going to end my life in the center of the cave. Sitting on the cold floor with my legs crossed, I prepare to meet my Maker. My frozen hands, hidden inside my mittens, are resting on my knees.

I wait. If I have to die, I shall die in peace and with dignity. The cold is piercing my face and chest with thousands of needles. It's sinking deep into my lungs, like the claw of a giant ice dragon. I decide to ignore it from now on. Obedient to my final wish, the pain fades away soon. Instead, a comfortable numbness fills me.

I begin to dream. A voice is telling me to sit on a higher stone, set my ankles over my thighs, and let my knees touch the ground. If this position is too difficult to maintain, the voice says I can set one of my ankles on top of the other. It also suggests I keep my back and head straight, my hands in the center with the left on top of the right, and the thumbs touching each other through the leather mittens. I wake up.

This position is a bit unusual. Still, what do I have to lose? Using my last drops of energy, I manage to stand up slowly. Then I walk around the cave and find a large enough flat stone I could use as a hard pillow. I set it in the center of the chamber and sit on it the way the voice from my mind indicated. Like under the spell of a strong vision, I adjust the position of my body. I don't care anymore if the voice is real or only coming from my imagination. With it, I'm not alone. And this is good enough for me. It's always easier to have someone keep you company when you die than to fade away from this world entirely abandoned and forgotten. Even if that someone is only a fantasy.

I like this posture. It's going to make me look quite dignified when I freeze to death. So I sit. My thoughts are initially wandering in random directions, like clouds over a blue sky, coming and going, coming and going. After a while, the sensation of dreaming intensifies. I know this is going to be my final dream, but I don't care anymore. The voice begins talking again and suggests I let my thoughts pass and abandon the idea of fighting back. I only need to make peace with the world and myself.

I'm happy. I had a long and full life. Sooner or later, everyone has to go. If my time has come now, I should accept it and set up for my departure.

Seconds, minutes, add up on top of each other. And I'm still here. I'm still alive. Surprisingly, I soon feel my body becoming gradually warmer. As if a gentle fire is burning inside my lower abdomen, heating me from within.

I've lost count of time. I've lost the sensation of cold. I've lost the notion about who and what I am. There is nothing else, just the Universe outside and inside me, except there is no me. There is no outside and no inside, only the Universe. That's all that ever is, all that ever was, all that will ever be.

The Universe, the real one, is not this world of manifestations. Everything here, including myself, is an illusion. My body is burning like a flame, chasing away the darkness from the cave. My body is an illusion. The burning is an illusion. Life is an illusion. Death is an illusion. Pain is an illusion. The illusion is an illusion. The illusion's illusion is an illusion, too. Everything is part of a closed loop, renewing itself again and again, with no end.

Now I can accept everything that happens without being affected by it. The frost is only in my mind. As soon as I realize this, the storm, the snow, the ice, the cave, everything is gone.

There is no "I." Just the Universe. My eyelids are open, but they are not my eyelids, and they see nothing. Yet, I/there is no "I," know/knows everything that's happening around me/there is no me.

_July 24 —_ When I come back to reality, the dawn of the next day shines from behind the curtain of snow and ice that fills the entrance. The storm is still howling outside, the temperature is as low as before, yet my body is warm. Slowly, I stretch my numb arms, straighten my stiff legs, and manage to stand up a few minutes later.

I feel hungry and thirsty, yet somewhat refreshed from my night-long meditation. It seems my state of mind helped my body dig into the necessary resources to fight against the cold. I take a short walk around the cave, then warm up under my coat a bunch dried fish and a few balls of snow inserted into the water skin. Food and drink help me regain some of my former strength. I still feel pain in my muscles and joints, but I'm in much better shape than yesterday.

Meditation seems to be the right answer for my survival until the storm ends. I cannot do it all the time: I shall have to wake up from it once in a while to eat and drink water. Still, my body can get some rest from now on. With these thoughts, I fill the waterskin with more snow, place it inside my coat to make it melt. Then I sit on the flat stone once more. When my body's shivers have finally calmed down, I sink again into a deep sea of inner peace.

The hours pass one after another, unnoticed by my mind. When I come back to my senses, it's already evening. My second meditation session was longer than the first. My body feels warm as if all this time it had a gentle flame burning inside my lower abdomen. The weather hasn't changed. It's as cold as yesterday, with the blizzard still howling outside. How long is this snowstorm going to last?

Nivit's cocoon looks the same. I drink the melted snow from the water skin, then eat another dried fish and an orange warmed up under my coat. I stretch my legs for a few minutes by slowly walking around the cave, then go back to meditation. This time I sink into it deeper, way deeper, beyond the illusory world of manifestations. Deeper and deeper, beyond any beyond.

The ego expands and dilutes, gradually fading away. There is no "I." One has attained peace with everything. Everything is one, and one is everything. Time and space are an illusion. The illusion is an illusion. The illusion's illusion is an illusion.

The storm has ceased. The air is getting warmer. The snow is melting. Soon, a stream starts sprinkling from the back wall. Green vines begin to grow and sprout inside the cave. One continues to sit and meditate. One's body has become like a stone. Immobile, apparently lifeless. Yet, there is no death, for death itself is an illusion, too.

One can feel the Sun rising and setting. Something in one's head counts the days. One cannot see anything. Still, one knows everything that happens inside and outside the cave. One sees the snow melting and transforming into a river that's pouring along the narrow trail between the steep slopes. One knows this path leads to the shore. One can feel the planet rotating. One can sense the movement of the Moon, the Sun, and the stars. One can feel the fabric of time and space farther and farther away, touching the edge of the Universe. One is one with the Universe.

Time is flowing in an accelerated fashion. From where one sits, one can also feel the changes taking place inside the cocoon.

_July 25, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31. August 1, 2, 3, 4._ Distant and impersonal, the days continue to stream. One's mind records their arrival and departure like a well-tuned clock. The cave keeps flowing along the space and time that move in spirals around this location. One continues to flow with it, too.

Then, one day, something moves inside the white wrapping. The cocoon is torn open. First a hand, a human hand extends out of the silky veil. Then another hand. And then a head. Nivit has almost the same appearance as before. Only her hair has a bluish color, and her skin displays a faint aquamarine reflection. With a few circular moves, she gets out of her tiny enclosure. One can see something like a pair of fuzzy wings emerging from her back. Of course, one's eyes can't see anything now. Everything is perceived by one's mind. Nivit's wings don't seem made of ordinary matter, but of ethereal, blue light.

With a worried look, she comes to the spot where one sits. She gently shakes one's body and cries, thinking that one is dead. She takes one's pulse and listens to one's breath. There is a pulse. There is a feeble breath. Her eyes are filling with new tears of hope. Her calls, the power of her love, gradually pull one towards the world of manifestations, dragging one back into it with the strength of a tidal wave.

Several hours pass until one comes back to his human senses and can move again. There is an "I" now. Soon, my eyes (there is a "my" now) can perceive the daylight. I slowly turn my head and look at the new Nivit. She comes closer and wraps her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly. Her eyes are still full of tears. But these are tears of joy.

And now I understand why there are no old people on the Island.

♣

_August 5_ — The snow has melted. A warm breeze is blowing through the cave's entrance. That's true: there are no old people in this world. Their bodies stay relatively young until an advanced age. When the level of their vital energy is dropping, when their end looms near, their preparation to leave this world begins in earnest.

Young or old, when touched by death's looming breath, they know they have to leave Esyon soon. Their bodies suffer a strange metamorphosis, and their new wings prepare to take them on a journey with no return. The realm of Nosyon is calling them: it's time to say goodbye. And what happens there? Nobody knows for sure. Those who cross over never come back.

We spent a final night together in our tent. When morning came, Nivit woke up first, held her arms around my neck in a long hug, and whispered in my ears:

"Alberto, please listen to my words, as I don't have much time left here! Don't blame yourself for my disappearance. My father, Eori, will understand that my love called me to come with you through these mountains and even to the end of the world. My heart did follow you and will continue to do so for the rest of your life and beyond it. However, my body was too fragile to survive this blizzard and the frost that came with it. I prayed for you. I prayed for your survival. I prayed from my heart to God to keep you away from harm. And now I'm so happy to see you alive and well! Alberto, dear! Today I have to cross into Nosyon. I wish I could come with you to _Excelsior_ and then visit your world. However, we have to accept what the Supreme Ruler has reserved for us.

"Alberto, dear! Please don't be sad about my departure. On those distant lands, I'll pray every day to be by your side again, even if we need a thousand miracles to make this happen. It is not possible for me to stay here any longer or for you to follow me to the other side. Still, my heart tells me that someday we shall meet once more. Maybe in my world, maybe in your world, or perhaps somewhere else. We only need to believe in our love.

"My body is too fragile to survive here from now on. Alberto, dear! Please continue your journey. You already know the path and will reach the Ocean soon if you follow it. Then you can build a raft and navigate along the shore until you get back to _Excelsior_. And please, don't cry for me. Better keep a pleasant memory in your heart about our short life together."

"Please, don't leave me here!" I utter in a low voice. Tears are quickly filling my eyes, blurring my vision.

"I'm sorry," she replies, sobbing, "I don't have a choice in this matter."

With a final kiss, she stands up and exits the tent. I follow her and see my love going towards the cave's back wall. Her eyes already see something beyond its uneven surface. I think I can glimpse a path surrounded by mountains, a different sun, and a different sky. But the world on the other side is too fuzzy, too dark for my vision. I try to grab her arm, but my hand passes through her flesh like through air. When reaching the rock, she disappears into it. At the same moment, the blurry landscape on the other side vanishes. All I can see, all I can feel, is a rugged wall made of stone. And that's all.

Nivit is gone from Esyon. She didn't die. She has just left. Petrified, I can't talk or move for several seconds, for several minutes, for an eternity.

"Please, don't go away!" I whisper when I regain control of my body. Alas, it's too late. Tears are freely flowing along my cheeks. I fall on my knees and let my forehead lean onto the cave wall for a long time.

♣

Nothing happening around seems real anymore. The minutes, the hours, pass over me and through me. I can't move from the spot where my love has disappeared. I continue to stare at the wall, hoping for a miracle. Yet nothing, nothing happens. Only the gentle sound of the wind blowing outside and the slow movement of shadows pushed around by the Sun continue to mark the unemotional flow of time.

From my long meditation sessions, I already know about the illusory nature of this world. The world doesn't exist: it simply "is." Back then, wrapped in frost and death, I passed through a door that led me far away to a place beyond fear, pain, or worries. Then, why I still feel this sorrow now, this grief that tears me apart? Why won't it go away?

Again and again, I try to tell myself that everything is an illusion. So, why do I feel the flame of love burning inside me with such relentless power? Maybe love is the only real thing in the Universe? And if nothing else is real, why should I bother to return to _Excelsior_? Perhaps if I spend enough time meditating here, I can begin to see Nosyon myself, and then I can cross over into it. Maybe I can build a bridge towards that realm and find Nivit on the other side. Otherwise, what's the purpose of a life without her?

Yes, I shall push on with this plan, I shall attempt to step into the other world. If there is even the tiniest chance to succeed, it's worth trying. I shall not leave this cave until I find a way to reach the place where my love has gone.

First of all, I'm going to crawl inside the tent and sleep for a while. Sleep will numb my thoughts, my sadness, my pain. The last day's impressions were too much for me. In the land of dreams, I hope to find some help and an answer. And maybe Nivit will be there for me, too. I need to escape from this reality because now I am lost, so lost that I can't even clearly remember who I am. I/there is no "I" need/needs to sleep. Yet, if there is no "I," who is resting then?

♣

Shadows and light. Shadows and light, alternating back and forth, like the two sides of a flipping coin. The Sun is throwing long beams of light through the cave's entrance. The rays gallop frantically along the walls for a while, then die out in sparkles of colored dust, with the whole scene repeating itself in a loop.

Outside, one can feel the movement of the clouds through the air, coming and going, crossing in front of a deep teal sky. The wind is blowing along the path that leads to the sea, like a stream flowing under a shroud of dreams. The Universe is breathing in and out, sliding closer to eternity. The whole Universe is dreaming, dreaming about itself.

### lambda

I take a deep breath, then another. My lungs are filling with cool air. My eyelids are opening, and I wake up bathed in diffuse light. Everything surrounding me looks unfamiliar, and I can't recall where I am. At the same time, I'm breathing pain. And it's not my body the one that hurts, but my soul.

This deep anguish, this sadness in my heart: where does it come from? I keep breathing deeply, trying to alleviate the stings from my lungs. Breathe in, breathe out. Pain. Breathe in, breathe out. Pain. Always, the same deep pain.

I'm lying down under the arched ceiling of a spacious cave. The rocks above me shine in shades of green, a color probably coming from myriads of luminescent organisms living up there. I sit up and look around. White mushrooms are spread all over the ground, like a reverted field of pale stars.

_I do not know anymore whether I had formerly been a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man._

Which side is the real world, and which one is the mirror? Which one am I, the butterfly, or the man? But if there is no "I," would this question even make sense? For, in this case, one can't even know who is asking.

So, in the end, is there more than one reality? Or maybe everything is a dream? And what about now? Am I awake at this moment? Is one awake right now? Is anyone awake?

_When people dream, they do not know they are dreaming. They may even dream that they are interpreting a dream. Only after waking up they find out it was a dream. And then comes the great awakening, when we all shall realize that this life was only a great dream itself. Still, the fools think they are awake and insist on displaying their knowledge, now playing the part of rulers and now of herdsmen._

Chuang Tzu has clearly described this situation since millennia ago. If I'm dreaming now, slapping my face or pinching my skin would be dream slaps and pinches that are not going to me wake up.

_I, the person who says you are dreaming, am dreaming myself. These words seem very strange, but if after ten thousand years we meet just once with a great sage who knows how to explain them, it will be as soon as if we have met with a familiar acquaintance in the morning or evening._

Maybe I can figure out from my notes what's going on. The last date mentioned there is June 20. So, perhaps today is June 21, the longest day of the year in my country. But I doubt the summer solstice falls here on the same day. How can I make sure of the date? I guess I didn't sleep for more than one night, so I'll rely on this assumption. Everything is a guess, for with my watch damaged, I can't measure the time. I can't see the Sun from here, so I can't count the days, either.

Reading the notes from my log, I recall my expedition inside Gold City and the kidnapping of the princess. Salik had told me her name was Nern. She looked almost like Nivit from my dream. But was it a dream? Let's see: if it was a dream, then I haven't had time to learn the Eldorian language.

I shall try to write down a few phrases using their alphabet, which I'm not supposed to know. If my trip to Eldor, the trek in the mountains, and Nivit were all part of a dream, then I shouldn't be able to do this. However, if they were real, I'm supposed to understand about five thousand words in Eldorian and should have no problems communicating in it. I call it "Eldorian" because I have learned it in my dream (assuming it was a dream), in the village of Eldor. But I suppose the people from Gold City speak the same language and use a different name for it.

Pencil ready, I open my notebook and begin spreading on paper rows after rows of words in the Island's tongue. My mouth opens by itself in surprise. I watch how my hand writes the rounded letters without hesitation. They are also easy to read. It's obvious: I can speak the locals' language with crystal clarity. So, assuming that my log is correct and today's date is June 21, how did I live somewhere else for more than a month during a single cycle of sleep?

I touch my face and find my cheeks relatively smooth, for I shaved right before our night expedition to Gold City. If more than a month hasn't passed here, then it means I must be asleep now. Otherwise, how could I have learned a new language in a dream and use it while awake? I need to quickly wake up inside the cave from the mountains and see if I can cross over to Nosyon and look for Nivit there.

Alas, I can't think of any efficient way to do it. If I killed myself now, I'd probably leave this world. But can I be sure this is a dream? What if this is the reality, instead? On top of that, what if the other one is my real life, too? What if I keep crossing back and forth between two parallel realities? And what happens if I die in one of them? Would I also die in the other? Would my life end?

Such an experiment is going to be too risky. I have to avoid even hurting myself with intention. I can still see and feel on my body the scratches from three days ago when I got pulled by currents through the underwater tunnel. It's much better to stay away from death or any serious injury and find other ways to travel between these two worlds, dreams, parallel existences, or whatever they are.

In any case, I can't say for sure if I'm dreaming now. However, my hunger feels quite real. The thirst, too. Hence, before thinking about a way of escaping from these caves, I take a few sips from the spring flowing nearby and eat several mushrooms. The mushrooms have a bland taste but are better than nothing. They probably have enough nutrients to keep me going for a couple of weeks.

I circle the cavern, looking once more for an exit, but find nothing. I shall have to go back through the galleries that brought me to this place and find a different path to take me out of here. Then I think about the voice that warned me of the incoming snowstorm and the meditation that saved me, keeping my body warm in the terrible frost that killed Nivit.

Nivit! The memory of what happened to her fills my heart with sorrow. The pain explodes, makes me bend down to my knees, and pulls my forehead to the ground. No, I can't let the suffering win yet! I must fight it! I shake my head and slowly rise on my feet. I need to keep my hopes up while I look for my love in every dream or reality I might experience.

I breathe in the musty air of the cave, calming down my heartbeats and thoughts. I'm getting ready for a meditation session. If I can expand my perception far enough, I might find a way out of this maze. If I can speak the Eldorian language, then I should be able to meditate, too.

Sitting on a flat stone, legs crossed, ankles on top of each other, knees touching the ground, hands in the center with the palms up, left over right, thumbs connected, back, neck, and head aligned, I slow down my breathing, my heart rate, and the flow of time. The thoughts, like clouds floating high in the air, come and go, crossing a dark sky. They come and go until there is nothing left. The eyes are half-open, yet they don't see. The ears can't hear, the body can't feel. There is no fear, no pain, no purpose. The Universe doesn't exist. It simply is.

The perception expands. The cave walls are experienced as what they are. The whole maze of tunnels is here, with the tremendous weight of the mountains spread above. Springs, brooks, and rivers are streaming through myriads of caverns, splitting and merging back like blood flowing through a body of giant proportions. One can feel the space, but one can't pinpoint the time. And there is no way to know whether it's day or night outside right now.

This world is revolving around her sun, with a large moon as a companion. This sun is a wanderer among countless other stars spreading to the edge of the Universe. Star clusters of colossal size are grouped in even larger structures, shaped like disks and spinning around their axes, some diffuse, other with luminous spiral arms. In the meantime, one can sense nearby the intense vibrations of the atoms. Smaller and smaller parts of this realm are experienced inside a sea of illusions. The Universe "is," but it doesn't "exist." This is the ultimate reality. And, as an infinitesimal part of it, a way out looms clear for one, through the illusory space and time.

♣

I'm back in the world of manifestations, among dreams and nightmares. Or perhaps this is not a dream? Anyway, I can't tell anymore what is real. Maybe meditating in a dream could show me the true nature of that dream, but not what's outside it. My expanded dream conscience would perceive the depth and structure of a dream Universe. And what is a dream, after all?

***From a spot where I can reach the ceiling, I break off a stalagmite that radiates yellow light. I'm going to use it as a lantern when I leave this place. Before I leave the cavern, I drink as much water as I can from the spring pouring along the wall. Then I improvise a small bag from my coat and stuff it with mushrooms. This food supply should suffice for two or three days. And so I step back into the underground maze, this time with the insight given by the time spent in meditation.

I can't remember in detail the way out of here, but I have a general idea of the direction to follow. I leave the hall through the same gallery I came. Then, when I arrive at the underground river, I know I need to turn left and climb the steep slope near its bank until I reach a narrow tunnel.

I get to the tunnel after a few minutes. Initially, I can only crawl through it. Then, after a few dozen yards, the passage widens to a diameter of about ten feet. If I've got the information right while meditating, I should soon reach another cavern and then a maze of galleries. I'm happy the stalagmite in my hand radiates enough light to help me find my way around with ease.

I arrive at the hall after about half an hour. This one is even more impressive than the cavern where I've spent my previous night. I sit on the ground and decide to rest for a bit. The ceiling has a pale-green color, probably coming from a different species of luminescent organisms.

I let my gaze wander around the walls. I can't see well the spots close to the floor. They're sunken in darkness. A few times, I think I hear high-pitched voices echoing above me. Of course, these sounds are only products of my imagination, so I chose not to pay attention to them.

I stand up, nibble a few bites from a mushroom, and begin crossing to the other side. The voices come closer, surrounding me. I can hear them much better now, but can't see anyone else in the cavern. They are using the Eldorian language, scattering words and phrases around the walls. Every once in a while, the voices become whispers that pass by my ears. I halt, sit on the ground again, close my eyes, and wait.

"Who are you?" "What are you doing here?" "Come to me," "You are not real," "Tell us about how you ended up in this place."

The voices keep flying above my head, moving back and forth through the cavern. I don't know who and what they are but decide it's worth trying to communicate with them.

"I am Alberto," I say, standing up and pressing my palms together in front of my chest. "Who am I talking to?"

Suddenly, the hall becomes quiet. I remain standing and wait for a couple of minutes, but the voices are gone. Thick silence surrounds me, like a veil. Did I scare them? So, I talk again, the echoes of my words reverberating under the luminous ceiling:

"I did not mean to frighten you. I've lost my way inside this maze of caves and tunnels. Now I'm trying to go back outside, to the place where my people are waiting for me." There is no answer. After a short pause, I add: "I had no intention to bother you. Please accept my apologies. I must continue my journey and wish you farewell."

I immediately start walking towards the other end of the hall. Sometimes I glimpse tiny sparks of light at the edge of my vision. Yet, as soon as I turn my head to see them better, they disappear. Some minutes later, I exit the cave, after walking about two hundred yards. Another tunnel opens ahead. I step in and go on with my trek for about an hour until I reach a new cavern. This new hall is quite bright. The ceiling radiates a calming blue color. Are these luminescent creatures different from those I've seen elsewhere? I've got no means to check how they produce their light. Perhaps it's generated through a different process.

I don't know what time is it, but I assume it's early afternoon. So, I chose to take a break and have a frugal lunch from the mushrooms carried in my coat. Then, for the second time today, I hear words echoing along the walls. After a while, I conclude it's only one voice, talking in a low pitch. Suddenly, it becomes loud and clear:

"Why are you troubling my quiet meditation? Go away!"

"I'm sorry for intruding," I reply, almost in a whisper. "My only wish is to get to the other side and continue my journey."

"You may proceed," the voice says.

The cavern goes silent. I'll never know who talked to me. I keep walking and soon reach the other end.

Another gallery opens ahead as my feet continue to carry me towards the exit. Soon, I arrive at an intersection with dozens of galleries. I explore a few for a few yards and find new passage ramifications ahead. It looks like I'm inside a maze. My sense of direction is wavering. I have to stop at every intersection, sit down, and meditate for a few minutes before I can choose the right path. It's going to take forever to get out of here if the maze doesn't end soon.

I suppose it's already past 6 p.m. I'm exhausted, and my throat is dry. At some point, I hear water pouring from a stalactite on my left, producing crystal sounds that scatter around like flower petals. I reach for it and fill my palms with the refreshing clear liquid. I keep drinking until the thirst is gone. A few more mushrooms are all I can afford for dinner. I'm still inside the maze, and this is not the ideal location to spend the night. Despite that, my tired legs refuse to carry me further. I am not even going to try guessing the distance walked so far.

I have no option but to sleep right here. The air feels cold and damp. This place is far from ideal for resting. Just before falling into the arms of Morpheus, I realize I've been talking, thinking, and writing for the whole day not in my mother tongue but in the Eldorian language.

_June 22_ — This date is only a guess, like all the previous dates written in my log since I got lost in here. How can I count the days if I can't see the Sun and my pocket watch is damaged? Still, it's better to have an inaccurate time scale than none at all. Bathed in the yellow light coming from the stalagmite-torch, I'm looking at the network of galleries extending in all directions. Which one should I choose now?

I turn around to examine once more the galleries that connect to this spot. When I face the initial direction again, I'm startled to find a woman standing there, looking at me. She's wearing a green robe, and a halo of red light surrounds her body. Her long hair, spread over her shoulders, is also green. Even her skin has a pale green color. The woman looks young and beautiful, but her physical appearance suggests she is powerful and can be dangerous if angered. I don't want to make an enemy of her.

"What are you doing on my domain?" she asks in the Eldorian language.

"Please forgive my intrusion!" I reply. "I got lost inside this network of caves." What kind of creatures inhabit this area, anyway? I seem to keep crossing their fiefs all the time.

The woman folds her arms across her chest and says:

"Tell me how you have arrived here. If I like what I hear, I might let you pass."

I have no choice but to obey. So, for the next hour or so, I describe what happened since _Excelsior_ started her trip to the Northern Fort. Then I talk about how I had been living in two realities, or perhaps inside two dreams, after my arrival on the Island. I don't know which one is true, so I tell her both versions of my adventures. The woman seems entranced by my story. She listens with an expression of fascination on her face, without ever interrupting me.

"I like your story," she says as soon as I finish. "Not only I'll let you pass, but I shall also help you with directions. You still have a long journey from here to the nearest exit, but you can reach it in a few days. Come to my palace. There, you can eat, drink, and rest. And while you keep me company, I would be happy to know more about your world." After a short pause, she continues: "You can ask me almost anything, just don't try to know my name, who I am or why am I here. If you do, I shall not let you go further and shall not help you."

I'm not sure how is she going to stop me from crossing this maze, but the promise of help sounds more than appealing. So, I'll do my best to stay in friendly terms with the woman.

"Am I dreaming?" the only question I can think of right now comes out of my mouth.

"Yes. However, not in the way you think. Look behind you."

I turn around. My eyes open wide from surprise: I see myself sleeping on the hard ground from the tunnel maze, wrapped in my coat and shivering once in a while from the cold.

"Come to my palace. You can replenish your powers there," the woman in green says.

"Please, wait!" I say, unsure about what to do. "If I'm dreaming now, even though you offer me the best foods and drinks, I shall still be hungry and thirsty when I wake up."

"No, you won't. My food is going to nourish your body from the cave. You know, my palace is not part of this world. Still, it can connect to your realm in a dream. Follow me! You'll see immediately what I mean."

She leads me through a side gallery to an arched passageway with walls made of red bricks that I didn't spot while awake. After three steps, the walls disappear, and a dark-green sky opens above. High up, a red sun about as big as Esyon's Moon is radiating a soothing light.

The air feels warm and has a bitter-sweet smell of grass and flowers. We are in a narrow valley. Forests with red and orange leaves cover the mountains around. A group of massive buildings made of pink marble is looming ahead. The edifices have regular geometrical shapes and seem interconnected. At a closer look, this structure might in fact be a single construction made up of many architectural styles.

The red carpet of grass feels soft under my soles. Every step lifts my body high in the air, and I need a minute to get used to this new sensation. Soon, we enter the building through the main gate. The woman gestures me to follow her through an ivory door on the left, and we enter a spacious dining hall.

The place is cozy. The floor is made of dark-blue marble, the walls are white and covered with framed paintings of landscapes, while shiny metal tiles cover the ceiling like tiny mirrors. The curtains from the arched windows on the far end have been pulled to the sides, letting the sunlight flood the room. Plates and bowls with fruits, vegetables, and fish fill a long table in the center. Hemispherical glass bottles with colored liquids set at regular intervals mark the spaces among them.

No one else is here. I wonder who has prepared this feast on such short notice? Perhaps the servants were ordered to leave the room and stay away during the dinner. Or maybe they are going to show up later.

"This is not Esyon," I say.

"That's right!" she replies. "We are in Nosyon. Your life energy is high, and your body can't go through the metamorphosis needed to enter this realm. Therefore, I can bring you here only while you are asleep. Also, as you are not from Esyon, maybe you can't go through the metamorphosis, after all."

My heart starts pounding. I'm in the same world as Nivit! Sure, this is a different reality, where I haven't met her, where she hasn't crossed over. But being on the other side of the mirror feels like a great achievement already. This is a dream. Perhaps a dream within a dream. Soon, I'm going to wake up back in the caves from Esyon. However, if I could cross over now, maybe I can do it again in the future, for real. There is hope to find Nivit!

"Do you think I could come to Nosyon again by myself? Is that possible without suffering the metamorphosis?" I ask my mysterious host.

"Perhaps," she replies. "Even so, you might need to train for a long time to succeed. Please, take a seat. Help yourself with whatever food and drink you like and tell me more about your world."

We sit at the table and begin eating. No servants come to assist us. The fish are delicious, with a slight crispy taste, reminding me of tuna and herrings. The fruits and vegetables come in many shapes and colors. Most of them are new to me, perhaps originating from locally grown varieties.

Everything is tasty, although I doubt this dream-food can nourish my body. Even so, this is a welcome change to the bland mushrooms from the cave. Between mouthfuls, I tell my host about my world. I describe our oceans, continents, mountains, cities, science, art, music, and technology. The woman listens with great interest.

About one hour later, I pause, unsure how to continue. My host smiles and says:

"Alberto, you are an interesting fellow, and you bring a lot of information about the outside world. I haven't had a visitor in many years. If you could spare a few more days, I should be glad to have you here as my honored guest. You can spend your sleeping hours in my palace and use your time awake to meditate and explore the surroundings of the cave."

Sketching a smile myself, I reply:

"My lady, I should be delighted to benefit from your hospitality. However, I'm anxious to leave these caves as soon as possible. I need to return to my ship and crew and tell them about my journey. If the captain has made the people from the city surrender, I believe _Excelsior_ is going to be around for another week or two. If I don't show up within this time frame, the crew might try to leave the Island without me, not even knowing I'm still alive. Even though I think the ship needs a storm for the journey back, the captain might want to explore the coast and look for other cities. What am I going to do if I don't find them there?"

The woman lowers her gaze, sighs, and says nothing. I stay silent for a few moments, then decide to try a few questions myself.

"Do you live here alone?" I ask.

"Yes," she responds curtly, nodding and lowering her gaze to the floor.

"Then, how could you prepare such a feast without any help?"

The woman laughs:

"Oh, that's quite easy. I have my ways of controlling matter with my mind. Preparing this kind of meal never takes long."

I examine her for a while, the press on:

"You are not human, are you? Or perhaps I should rephrase it: you are not fully human yet."

The woman nods quietly. A sad expression darkens her face. Our eyes meet for a few long seconds. And then I hear a faint voice humming inside my head. Perhaps this is the same voice that warned me about the incoming snowstorm. Nothing intelligible comes out of it, but somehow it fills my head with information and facts, confirming my guess. Now I know my host is stranded in Nosyon, alone, because she's not human. The Lady in Green wants to be human and live inside Esyon. But who is she? What is she? I'm not allowed to ask these questions. Still, I think I already know the reason for her presence here.

Her castle is her training ground. She built and expanded it with great effort and patience: a gateway to go through. The underground maze from the other side is already populated by beings who are half-way out, pushing to induce a complex metamorphosis and cross into Esyon. So, based on what they doing, should I conclude that this realm is an inferior world? Does everyone from Nosyon try to cross over? Is this their original Universe, the source reality from where they have populated the Island? It certainly looks different: the vegetation is red, the air is dense, the gravity is low. The pale sun looks like a red fire burning in the sky. If I think a bit, it is about the same size as Esyon's moon.

"I know why you live here," I say, breaking the silence.

She shivers, staring at me in surprise.

"You're getting ready to cross into Esyon. Your palace is a training ground to become human. From here, you have built a gate that reaches into the underground maze from the other side. In a state of trance, you can explore Esyon and can interact with those living in the caves there while they are asleep. That's the only thing you can do for the time being. You are not ready to go further and can't fully cross over. However, day after day, you're making progress."

She interrupts me impatiently, not pleased with what I have just said:

"Please stop! Don't even say one more word. Voicing my struggle fills my heart with pain. But I liked your story, and I shall keep my promise. I shall give you directions to an exit close to the sea, near the spot where your ship is anchored. If you can give me more details about your world and the Island for the remainder of your visit here, this information is going to help me evolve faster."

So, I tell the Lady in Green more about what I think of Earth and Esyon. For me, the strangest thing is the connection between my planet and the Island. Our legends say that my people used to stumble upon her shore when the weather was good. However, in recent times, ships from many countries charted the ocean with high accuracy and found no such land. _Excelsior_ is the first vessel to visit the Island in almost three centuries. And, before that happened, it got caught in a storm where the Earth's magnetic field lines were perturbed, making the compass spin and preventing us from maintaining our initial course.

This kind of storm seems to be a rare occurrence. Our journey back probably needs one, too. If that's the case, the ship might be stuck in Esyon for some time. Even so, I can't take any chances and would like to be back in Gold City as soon as possible. I know the captain will try sailing to our world soon, and I'd rather be with my crew when this happens. I might eventually stay on the Island to search for Nivit, but want to see my people before they leave.

Our conversation goes on. We talk about the countries from Earth, then about music, science, and arts. Sometimes my host asks for details, and I do my best to give her accurate answers. When the red sun is setting, I know my visit to Nosyon is coming to an end. It's time for me to wake up and continue my journey. So I say:

"My lady, I can't stay here much longer. Your palace is splendid, your food is delicious, and your company is the most pleasant. However, I'm concerned about my people leaving Gold City before I can get back to them. There is also my body, deep asleep inside the cold cave. This kind of rest wouldn't be good for my health if it lasted too long. I should like to ask for permission to return."

The woman dressed in green looks at me with sad eyes but nods in agreement.

"I shall give you a map," she says. "You're going to find it in your hand when you wake up. It will guide you towards the exit. I thank you for your visit and for all the information you shared with me."

"I hope my stories will help you cross into Esyon sooner," I reply. Then I continue: "I still have a question before I leave, if it's allowed: The people from Gold City and Eldor, did they, or their ancestors, come from Nosyon?"

I thought I needed an answer, but as soon as I finish my phrase, I already know it. Perhaps the voice is sending it to me. I see these beings building a bridge towards Earth, transforming, trying to be like us. But why? Why would they want to change? However, no more answers are coming.

"In the beginning, Nosyon was the only inhabited world. That's all I can tell you," the Lady in Green states with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"I'm grateful for your assistance and hospitality," I say. "Now, I bid you farewell. However, who knows, maybe we can meet again someday, either in a dream or in the real world. If we can be both physically present in the same place, will you tell me then your name?"

"I certainly shall," the Lady in Green replies.

She gives me the map and three small fruits that look like kiwis. Then she accompanies me back to the arched passageway, through the same gallery that lead us here.

♣

_June 23 —_ My eyes open inside the dark cave. The shiny skin of my frozen hands is mirroring the light from the stalagmite leaning against the wall. I'm numb from cold, and it takes a while until I can move my arms and legs. I'm relieved that my visit inside Nosyon didn't last too long. I would have gotten sick from the low temperature reigning in here.

I discover a folded sheet of green paper in my right hand. It's a map of the cave system, drawn with black ink in great detail. A small "x" sign marks my current location, and tiny red arrows sketch the path to follow. There is no size scale, but the shapes and lengths of the already visited luminous halls make me assume I'll have to walk at least another twenty miles until I reach the exit. The galleries go on a roundabout route, hence the longer distance, but they will have to do. At least now I can move on without having to spend many minutes meditating in every spot with intersecting galleries.

Esyon and Nosyon seem governed by weird laws. I could visit the other realm in my dream, but somehow I could also bring a map here. Inside my pocket, I find the three small fruits the Lady in Green gave me. They look like kiwis. Wrapped in silence, I turn around and listen. I feel vibrations coming from all directions. Their sources are far away, beyond the surrounding walls. This area is probably full of beings who are gradually changing into people as they try to cross into this world.

The presence of these beings would explain the voices I've heard in the caverns. Perhaps they might even cause the pale flashes of light I occasionally glimpse in the dark at the edge of my vision. Parts of this network must have a dual existence, manifesting inside both realms. Still, even though I'm so close, I can't cross over to Nosyon to bring back the woman I love.

My attempt to reach Nosyon will have to wait. Before anything else, I need to return to _Excelsior_. I believe my ship is still near Gold City's harbor. Probably she needs another storm to return. Yet, as such storms might only occur a few times a year, this is going to take a while. I hope at least the conflict with the locals is over.

I have to reach Gold City as soon as possible. Once I give the captain a detailed report about my journey, I shall request to be temporarily relieved from duty. Then I can think about a way to cross over into Nosyon and look for Nivit.

However, Nivit didn't disappear in this reality, but in the other one. She crossed to Nosyon on August 5, while here it's only June 23 or some other date close to it. In this reality, Nivit must be safe in Eldor, and she wouldn't even recognize my face if I went to her village. Yet, I still want to look for her in this world as soon as I can get out of these caves and fulfill my obligations towards my captain.

I remember reading a year ago about Benjamin Franklin's experiments on lightning. In June 1752, he flew a kite with a hemp string under the dark clouds of a storm. As the kite's line got wet in the rain, it became a good electricity conductor. A house key belonging to a friend was attached to the string's end and connected to a Leyden jar. With the kite flying high, Franklin noticed that some loose threads of the hemp were repelling each other and concluded that the Leyden jar was charging. When he moved his hand near the key, he saw sparks jumping from it to the back of his hand, proving the electrical nature of lightning.

The same book briefly mentioned another, lesser-known scientist, whose name I don't recall. He discovered that a pulse of electricity could destabilize a compass. His work is more recent, so there is a good chance he's still alive today. Now, assuming a perturbation in the magnetic field combined with flashes of lightning has brought Excelsior to the island, maybe it's possible to build a machine that sends variable pulses of electricity through the air, imitating the conditions of a magnetic thunderstorm. Such a device might allow someone to transport objects and people between these worlds.

Perhaps, if placed in the right location, such a device could open at will a gate between our realms, with tremendous commercial benefits for both sides. When I return to my country, I should like to find this scholar and learn more about electricity and magnetic fields from him. But, first of all, I have to get out of this place. Even though only about five days have passed, it feels like it's been a much longer time.

I eat one of the fruits and a few mushrooms, then start trekking again, following the red arrows drawn on the map. After ten minutes or so, the passage rises steeply. I find myself in front of an almost vertical gallery that looks like an empty well. I have no idea how high it is, but I know I must climb it.

I set my stalagmite in my chest pocket so that its end sticks out and gives me some light, then I grab the most prominent rock edges and pull myself up, inch by inch. I try not to think about all the empty space below, with the ground far enough to kill me if I slip and fall. I only clench my teeth, hold the edges tighter, and keep going. It takes more than an hour to climb a height of perhaps one hundred feet, and I'm exhausted when I reach the floor of another horizontal gallery. The thirst begins to torment me, but there is no water source around.

After about half an hour of rest, I stumble back on my feet and begin moving again. Some minutes later, the tunnel bends sharply downwards into another vertical pit. The descent takes another half hour of agonizing strain. I finally reach a horizontal gallery again and continue my trek. Thirst is torturing me, but this passage looks quite dry. I decide to ignore the fatigue, pushing myself to keep going until I find a spring, perhaps inside the cavern marked on my map that I'm supposed to enter soon.

Sometime later, I hear the faint sound of a waterfall and soon enter an immense hall with a luminous red ceiling. I suppose a different species of creatures produces this new color. The floor is covered in many places by the already familiar white mushrooms. Near the opposite wall, the wide curtain of a waterfall is glistening. It splashes onto heaps of big rocks and disappears, wrapped in shadows, into the darkness below.

The air from this cavern feels relatively warm. I could say it's almost comfortable in here. The path marked by red arrows points towards the waterfall's basin. I drink some water, munch a few mushrooms, and chew another fruit. Then I lie down on the ground, resting my muscles and trying to regain my strength. I'm still weak from lack of water and food, so I'll need a while to get going again.

With the stalagmite in my hand, I bend over the edge of the flowing water and peek down, but can't see the waterfall basin. Well, the sound made by the foamy waves somewhere in the darkness below suggests a depth of at least ten feet. The scary part is that I have no way to make sure there are no sharp rocks right underneath its surface. I also have no ropes or vines to ease my descent, and it's impossible to climb down the slippery wall by myself.

The good part is that I've got unlimited water and enough food to last for a while. So, I can rest and think of a solution. I sit down, close my eyes, and try to imagine the Sun shining high above, beyond the red vault of the cave. In the other life, I was stuck in the mountains, but at least I was able to see the sky and feel the wind. I wish I could just go to sleep and wake up inside the other existence. Even though I think it's still late afternoon, the world of dreams quickly catches me in its net.

### mu

I suppose it's evening now. Or maybe it's morning? I think I've slept for only two or three hours. So, I shall assume it's the evening of June 23. I need to find a way to continue my trip. This would require my descent into the waterfall. There are no objects in this cave that I could use to ease my job, and I can't find any answers to my questions about what lies beneath the water surface. The voice I've heard in the past in my head is silent now, and nobody else whispers in my ears what I have to do next. The only option left is to meditate. And so I sit on the ground, letting my mind flow and expand to the edges of the Universe.

Again, one seems to be floating somewhere beyond the river of time. One's perception is extending beyond the cave walls. High above, one can feel the tree roots digging in the ground and the fawns grazing on the mountain meadows. Yes, these entangled tunnels, this body, these thoughts exist underneath the mountain chain. The waterfall nearby is flowing into a deep basin, without any hidden rocks under the surface. The safest and easiest option is to just jump from its edge. That's what one's mind tells one.

I return to the realm of manifestations, to this reality where I'm trapped in a maze of caves. I've got an inexorable feeling that this strange world has already changed me and continues to transform my body and soul in unpredictable ways. Who am I? It would be easier to tell who I was before I have arrived on the Island. Now I'm just wearing the name and memories of Alberto Shimada.

I insert the folded map into the wooden box, next to my notebook. The box is watertight and should keep its contents safe in the water. It has already done so on several previous occasions. I wrap my stalagmite-lantern in my coat, together with a bunch of fresh mushrooms. After eating the last fruit received from the Lady in Green, I gather my courage and go to the waterfall's edge. With my coat tied around my chest, I jump into the ice-cold darkness.

Powerful currents are carrying my body deeper below until I touch the bottom. My legs and hands strike the water with all their might and push me back towards the surface inside a swarm of bubbles. A few seconds later I reach the dry ground in complete darkness, trembling from cold, coughing, and gasping for air. The luminescent stalagmite has fallen from my coat, and now I'm left without any light source.

One minute later, I glimpse some pale colors higher up. Unfortunately, they are way too faint to help me see anything around. Using my sense of touch, I get to the water's edge and try to peek into the deep basin. I can't see anything behind the dim reflection of the foamy waves that agitate the surface. All I can spot at the bottom is a quite feeble luminous sparkle that seems to be more the product of my imagination than the shape of the stalagmite-torch.

For a moment I think about diving again into the lake and searching for it. However, I doubt I can reach the bottom one more time without the leverage given by a plunge from high up. So, I'll have to continue my trip without a light source. I'm sure sooner or later I shall find something else to help me chase the darkness away.

I remember that the arrows on the map showed a straight direction for some distance, probably two and a half to three miles. This means I should be able to manage without it for a while. Even though I can't see anything, I have to keep moving. I need to work out my muscles to stay warm and stop my body's shivering.

I take off my clothes, like I did a few days ago in a similar situation, and squeeze out of them as much water as I can. Unsurprisingly, putting them back on when I see absolutely nothing and while trembling from cold proves to be a difficult and time-consuming operation. I often have to pause and strain my muscles in isometric exercises to reduce the shaking of my limbs.

With the clothes back on, I inspect my possessions by touch. It seems nothing else is missing besides the stalagmite-torch. Again, my mind is creating small shapes of light and color that sparkle at the edge of my vision. Or perhaps there are some entities inside the cave that generate them. Never mind, I've got no time or interest for a closer investigation. These entities can go ahead with their business while I take care of my own problems. After I'm finally done with the check of my personal items, I continue my journey towards the exit, still many miles away. Every few minutes, I stop for pushups and squats to keep the blood running properly through my limbs.

Now I need to follow the gallery, going in the same direction as the watercourse. The sound of the river helps me maintain my orientation. Once in a while, between frequent coughing fits, I make clicking sounds or shout loudly to estimate my distance the wall on my left. I still feel cold, but the air is getting warmer.

About half an hour later, I arrive at a place where my hand touches a hot spring. It flows along the side wall and pours into a small natural basin. I can finally get my body warm again. Farther away, I also glimpse a dim light. I go past the wall stream and find a few stalagmites covered with glowing microscopic creatures. Here it comes, my new light source to replace the one lost in the waterfall...

I go back to the spring, take off my clothes and boots again and spread them on the surrounding stones to dry. Then I lie down in the warm, shallow water. The blood circulation inside my body returns to normal in a few minutes. Exhausted from the last hour's effort, I fall asleep inside the basin.

♣

_June 24 —_ Morning (approximate date and time). I wake up in a hot bath and need a few moments to recall the previous night's adventures. I feel rested and in good shape. My skin is mildly irritated from the exposure to water. My fingertips have become soft and tender. With clumsy moves, I get out of the water and sit down on a dry stone next to the basin. A few minutes later, the skin of my fingers gets better, and I can use them to put my boots on. My clothes are dry now.

The stalagmite-torch from my hand gives me enough light to check the map. My path towards exit follows a long tunnel, and then I'm supposed to reach another cavern of ample dimensions. I eat several mushrooms and drink a few sips of water, then get back on my journey. About two hundred yards ahead, the river disappears into a lower gallery. Some minutes later, my passageway is climbing again. The air is getting hotter and drier. All these circular tunnels make me wonder if they are really natural. There are too many of the same size. Yet, I can't imagine any intelligent beings creating such a complicated and useless underground network.

I see in a few places gray heaps made of a soft, decomposing substance with an unpleasant smell of rotten moss. I have no idea what could they be. Of course, the galleries dug by the river and the large caverns in the areas I have crossed during the previous days are all natural formations. Still, this particular place is unusually dry for a cave system. Also, I realize I haven't heard any more voices lately in my head or in my ears.

I keep going, crossing maze after maze of tunnels. Some of them are not even marked on my map. Luckily, the main gallery has now a diameter of almost fifteen feet while those intersecting it are less than seven feet wide. So, it's still easy to keep going without losing my way.

After about an hour of walking through this dry labyrinth, a low rumbling noise reaches my ears. Soon, the ground under my feet begins to vibrate. Is this an earthquake? Something large and heavy is coming from behind, sliding along this gallery! My stalagmite is not bright enough to let me see anything beyond four or five yards. I don't know what causes this shaking but feel no need to find out. I'm worried about having pieces from the ceiling falling onto my head, so I decide to run ahead as fast as I can. The noise seems to follow me.

Ten minutes or so later, I'm already exhausted from the effort. I jump into a side tunnel and let the thing pass by. I see an impressively large white form that almost fills the passageway. As it moves on like a snake, a triangular mouth at the front is taking bites from the walls. I need a few more moments to realize that I'm actually looking at a giant worm. This unusual species seems to be feeding on rocks, or perhaps on something inside the rock.

Now I know who has dug these tunnels... The smelly gray heaps seen before are the nothing else but the body waste of these creatures. Is this rock rich in some unusual minerals or organic substances that make it edible and perhaps even tasty for the big worms?

I wait quietly for about half an hour at the edge of the side gallery before I dare to continue my trip. From now on, I need to make sure at all times that I have some other tunnels within my reach, or I might get crushed like a bug by one of these beasts. This is not the kind of death that would appeal to anyone. Where I find no side-tunnels, I'll have to run, passing through as fast as possible. And who knows? Maybe these creatures also hunt down and eat intruders. I'll need to be more careful if I don't want to become their next meal.

After about another hour of brisk walking, I reach the hall drawn on my map. Like most large caverns I've seen so far, its ceiling is illuminated by tiny luminescent creatures that grow on the stalactites. This time, the light from above has a pale violet color. Blue mushrooms are growing in a few spots, yet I don't see any water source.

Probably it's around noon now. I'm thirsty, but can't find any spring flowing nearby. The air here feels hot and dry. I wonder how can these mushrooms grow in here. Their color is unusual, and I prefer to refrain from even from touching them. This is not a good place to rest. I decide to quickly cross the cavern and continue my trip straight ahead, following the red arrows from the map. In fact, I may have only about ten miles left. If my legs help me, I could be in front of the exit by evening.

While crossing the hall, I glimpse near the side wall about twenty round stones as big as a human head. Curious, I come closer to examine them. Their surface is soft and somewhat elastic to the touch. One is actually cracked open. I can see a tiny worm coiled on the floor next to it. This has to be the nest of the rock-eating creatures! I suppose an intruder may not be welcome in here. Probably just the opposite! Immediately, I begin running as fast as I can to get out of this dangerous location.

From the other end of the cavern, I can already hear the familiar rumbling sound. I glimpse a big worm appearing from a side-gallery and moving threateningly in my direction. The tunnel that should take me to the exit is not far. I rush into it, followed by the creature. A loud clatter comes from behind, getting louder with every second. When I think the beast is almost going to grab me, I jump into a narrower passageway and continue to run through it. The worm can't enter this new gallery, yet it doesn't give up so easily. It begins biting pieces of rock, trying to make it large enough to squeeze through.

I'm saved, at least for the moment. The worm can't come in here. Nevertheless, I have to get back to the main gallery if I want to reach the exit. My tunnel is splitting again into several narrow corridors. This underground maze makes me think of a giant piece of Swiss cheese. The walls emit a dim red light, and I can see reasonably well where I'm going, even without my stalagmite-torch.

I suppose the side passageways were dug by smaller worms. However, even those creatures must have had a diameter of about seven feet. I stop for a few minutes to catch my breath. It's too dark to see the giant worm from my location, but I know it's there, waiting.

The monster might be more intelligent than it looks. Perhaps it knows it can't get in here and plans to catch me when I step back into the main gallery. I keep moving through the side passageways, trying to get away from the worm.

An intense, high-pitched sound, stabs my ears. Immediately, I can see another form coming at me from the front, blocking my way. I change direction and rush into another passage, but I glimpse another worm waiting for me there. I continue to switch tunnels while more and more creatures are surrounding me from a distance. Soon, they will fill all the galleries. It's only a matter of time until I'm going to be caught in the middle. Desperate, I'm searching for an even narrower tunnel, where they shouldn't be able to get in.

At last, I stumble into a low gallery. It is only about three feet wide. I move through it as quickly as I can, creeping, leaning on my hands and knees, back hunched, head bowed. This passage must have been made by a young worm, I just hope it's digger is not going to show up and attack me in here. Yet, in case it does, at this size, I might at least have a chance to fight it off with my little knife.

The new tunnel seems to be descending. I see no other galleries connected to it. Behind me, one of the large shapes has just reached its entrance and began enlarging it with its teeth. If my passage opens into a different place, I might be saved. However, if it's a dead end, I'm already a shadow of the past inside this world. Still, I find it curious how I was ignored during the first encounter with the worms and how I'm hunted down now, as soon as I've passed close to one of their nests.

I keep crawling, almost tumbling on a steep descent. The tunnel is squeezing me, curving down now at an angle of about forty-five degrees. The dim red light from the walls is gone. With the stalagmite in my hand, I continue to advance on my knees and elbows. And before I have a chance to see what waits for me ahead, it opens into the ceiling of another large cavern. When I realize what's going on, I'm already falling into the dark, terrifying unknown. About two seconds later, my back hits hard the surface of an ice-cold underground lake. I sink all the way to the bottom of the pool. The pressure of its depth is squeezing my eardrums while my nostrils fill with liquid pain.

My hands and legs push me frantically upwards, and I rise for a long time until I finally touch the surface again, coughing and gasping for air. Swimming towards the shore, shivering from the bite of the frigid water, I can glimpse high above a yellow, bright ceiling. I'm inside a new big cavern about three hundred feet in diameter and perhaps seventy feet high. It really was a stroke of good luck to fall into this deep lake. Otherwise, such a plunge would have resulted in my instant death.

My thoughts go back to the worms. From my observations, these creatures don't like water. The narrow tunnel that saved me must have been dug by a smaller beast that accidentally fell into the lake and drowned. I don't expect the rock-eating monsters to enlarge that passage by tonight. Also, in case they reach this cavern by tomorrow, they will most likely drown after falling into the lake, as the depth of the pool is probably twenty or twenty-five feet.

Taking off my clothes and boots, I start running around in circles to get warm again. I'm already used to this unpleasant routine, as I've done it many times the last few days. I spot bunches of white, edible mushrooms growing nearby. A clear stream is flowing from a wall. Circling the cave, I discover a little farther a hot spring that pours into a natural bath dug by the falling water, perfect for warming my body. Three gallery entrances are visible on the opposite edge of the hall. Their shapes are irregular, indicating that no rock-worms live here.

Unfortunately, this hall and its connecting galleries are not drawn on my map. After the encounter with the worms and my unexpected plunge below the main level of the cave system, I can't use the route marked by the red arrows anymore. I shall have to rely on one of these three passages to find my way out of here.

Why hasn't the Lady in Green told me anything about the worms? Maybe she didn't know about them. And how did a detailed map of this underground realm get into her hands, anyway? Perhaps through an enhanced meditation technique? I'll never know for sure, and it doesn't matter anymore.

I decide to spend my night here. First, I'll take a nice bath inside the hot spring while my clothes and boots are drying. A dinner of mushrooms will have to do again to appease my stomach's growling discontent. Who knows, maybe in spite of my fall below the main level of the underground network, tomorrow I can finally leave this world of darkness.

♣

_June 25 —_ I assume it's morning when I wake up and decide to use meditation again as a means to find the path towards the exit. However, the mind expansion technique proves useless this time, and I give up one hour later. There is only emptiness in the galleries' direction. As if they didn't exist at all. I shall have to explore them one by one. However, I want to be optimistic, keeping up the hope that I can find the way out of here from the first try.

After an unappetizing breakfast made of the same white, bland-tasting mushrooms, I choose the left gallery and step inside it with a new luminous stalagmite in my hand. What initially looks like a large tunnel narrows down gradually until I have to crawl on my knees and elbows. Fortunately, about thirty yards farther, the gallery is becoming wider once more, and I can soon walk normally again.

The air seems to become denser. A blue fog with a stinging smell fills the passageway, making me dizzy. Even so, I decide to continue my trip. The ground is softer here, almost elastic. Blue light is coming from someplace farther ahead. Is this the reason for the bluish color of the fog, too? I keep going. To my surprise, I soon find blades of grass on the floor, for the first time since I have entered this underground network of caves and tunnels.

Plants come from seeds, and those seeds might have been brought here by wind or rain from outside. Could I be that lucky? Could the exit be so close? Am I finally going to see the Sun again, after a whole week (or even more) spent in darkness? A bright light is visible in front of me, and I hurry my steps towards it. The gallery ends abruptly into what seems to be open space. I stop.

Before going farther, I decide to use my handkerchief to cover my eyes. The intensity of the light coming from outside is blinding. If I only kept my eyes closed with nothing covering them, it would still be too bright. I have lived in a dark place for such a long time that sudden exposure to daylight might put my eyesight in danger.

Blindfolded, I step carefully, touching the walls with my hands to maintain my orientation until I exit the cave. I can hear birds singing, I can feel the Sun's rays and the caress of the wind on my face.

I'll have to wait for a while to use my eyesight in here. So, I lie down on the grass, allowing my retinas to adjust. I let about ten minutes pass, then I carefully untie the piece of fabric that covers my eyes, still keeping them closed. I lift my eyelids for a fraction of a second, lower them back down for a while and continue to do so, each time holding my eyes open for a longer time until the bright light becomes bearable.

My surroundings look fuzzy. I can't clearly see what's around me yet, but colors and contours are gradually forming. I'm in the middle of the mountains, close to a clearing full of red flowers, surrounded by tall trees looking like oaks. Who knows, maybe the seashore is nearby, too.

I need another few minutes until my eyes can adjust to this new environment. As soon as I can see well, I begin walking towards the center of the clearing. Suddenly, I hear a loud noise and glimpse a creature looking like a woolly elephant, running near the opposite edge of the glade. It's being chased by several people dressed in animal skins, armed with spears made of sharp stones tied to long staffs. The beast manages to escape. The hunters turn back upbeat and angry.

These individuals look strong and territorial. I'm worried they might attack me. With my pocket knife as the only weapon and feeling quite vulnerable in an open area, I prefer to hide behind a tree.

Some anthropologists say that at the dawn of our civilization, our ancestors used to dress in animal skins and had to hunt for a living. Agriculture appeared at a much later stage. I may not be on Earth, but perhaps all civilizations evolve in similar ways. In fact, this scene reminds me of our own history. However, what puzzles me is finding this tribe here, so close to Gold City or the village of Eldor. Before going farther, I think it's better to observe them for a while.

So far, my presence went unnoticed. Many of these oak-like trees have red fruits, similar to apples, hanging from their branches. They would be quite nourishing after a week-long diet based almost exclusively on cave mushrooms. I reach to a lower branch and try to pick one. To my surprise, my hand passes through the fruit as if it were made from air. Then I try to touch the tree trunk. I get the same result. Everything has the consistency of smoke. Only the grass feels real. Could it be possible that the primitive men I just saw are like these trees, part of a different reality, unable to interact with me directly? I decide to take my chances in crossing the glade.

While I'm walking towards the tree line from the other side, the ground seems to become harder. I look at the grass below: the blades are protruding through my boots. I bend down to touch them. My hand only feels the air. Behind me, I can see my footprints for a distance of about twenty yards past the cave entrance. Then, they are gone. The boundary between the tangible and intangible world must be there.

Next to the forest edge, another cave entrance is visible on the side of a rock. I come closer as one of the people I saw earlier is just stepping outside. He looks through me and has no reaction to my presence. Now I know they can't see or touch me. Curious to see more, I descend into the gallery.

A few steps farther, I find myself in a large hall with a fire burning in the middle. I can see primitive pottery lying on the uneven ground. Three women are preparing food, cooking pieces of meat on skews held above the flames. An old man rests a little further, lying down on a bed of moss. Another man that looks in his middle-age is seated nearby, sharpening the ground stone tip of his spear with a flint.

The people from the cave are exchanging words in a harsh language with short, tonal words. Their faces, however, are similar to contemporary humans. Everyone's skin is light-brown. After a few minutes of observation, I am ready to leave the place. And at that moment I glimpse another entrance on the far wall, going deeper. I step through, curious to see what's in there and get inside another cave, identical to the first.

Apparently, I have also traveled in time. Now I'm in front of a different group of people and inside a more primitive shelter. The pottery is gone, and there is no fire. Unlike the first group, dressed in animal skins and with their own skin relatively hairless, these individuals have thin fur covering their bodies. They are not wearing any garments. Their heads, even though similar to humans, have some animal, ape-like features. No advanced tools are visible, just wooden sticks and sharp stones. They don't use any complex language, exchanging only quick grunts among themselves. I count six of them. Pieces of meat, perhaps from a killed hare, are placed on a large stone slab. And, behind them, I can see a third cave entrance, going even deeper inside the rock. I walk in, sliding further back in time.

In here, seven creatures, looking pretty much like a species of apes, have gathered around a heap of bananas, collected some minutes or some hours earlier. They are smaller than humans. No tools whatsoever, no language, no humanity. Maybe their senses are keener, too, because a couple of them seem to react to my presence, looking insistently in my direction. However, as they can't see or touch me, I have no reason to worry. I sense a heavy sadness in the air, the sadness of their limited existence and their desire to change into more complex, more advanced beings. Is this a trip into the past of mankind? Or is it a local transformation process where animals are gradually becoming human?

There are no more galleries to explore. Overwhelmed by the new impressions, I walk back to the clearing. This place can't be in Esyon. I suppose it's not in Nosyon, either. This world is not the one where _Excelsior_ can be found and not a world I can interact with. I shall have to come back to the large hall with the bright ceiling, unless there is a hidden exit nearby to take me someplace else, preferably outside this cave system.

I spend the rest of the day in this cavern, exploring its surroundings like in a state of dreaming. When I reach the southernmost point of it (at least based on the position of the fake sun), the air is getting warmer, and I can see the tall grass around my feet swaying in the wind. To the north, the trees and mountains marking the virtual horizon are covered in snow, and I can feel the cold breath of the winter. The spring and autumn reign towards sunrise and sunset.

Even more amazing is the fact that everything, this whole incredible variety, happens inside a perimeter of about two hundred and fifty yards. If I try to go farther, I bump into an invisible wall. This wall feels like a hard, smooth surface, and it seems to enclose the cave.

I guess the light wind that blows in here comes from this difference of temperature between its edges. It also makes the illusion of being outside quite powerful. I turn my eyes up. A few white birds are flying high above, across the fake sky. And there is another characteristic of this place that I didn't notice at first: the lack of any smell, the absence of any fragrance that you're supposed to find near grass, flowers, and trees.

At sunset, I go back to the cave's entrance and begin my return trip to the large hall with the lake in its center. If the length of the day in this cavern is close to the one on Earth, it seems I was off by only about three hours in guessing the time. Perhaps the human body has an internal clock that can actually measure it?

While walking through the tunnel filled with blue fog, my left foot stumbles onto something large, too light to be a rock. I bend down and lift the mysterious object in front of my eyes. It's a human skull. Some other prisoner of this world must have lived and died here, lost and without hope. A little farther, near the wall, a skeleton with a few rags hanging from it is frozen into a sitting position, head missing. There are no tools or other personal objects nearby.

This person must have died long ago of sickness or old age, perhaps too weak to move anymore as he or she was leaning against the wall. At some point, probably some years later, the vertebrae of the neck broke off and sent the skull tumbling down into the middle of the passageway. I put the head back next to the skeleton, whisper a short prayer for the peaceful rest of the unfortunate soul, then continue my walk until I reach the cavern with the lake.

So, there is no exit through the first gallery, only a bridge that leads to the boundary with an even stranger world. A world into which I cannot cross. After a bath in the hot spring and a dinner comprised of the same white mushrooms, I quickly fall asleep.

♣

_June 26_ — I'm going to try the middle gallery today. Maybe this path will finally take me out of my underground prison. However, when I think about the skull found in the first passageway and the skeleton next to it, I don't feel very optimistic. Still, I shan't know what's in there until I explore the place.

Unlike the one from the left, the central tunnel has a constant diameter and is climbing slightly. I keep trekking through it for more than thirty minutes. At some point, I remark that the ceiling's color is gradually turning to green. Further ahead I glimpse something looking like daylight.

As I had several hours of exposure to the fake sun yesterday, I can adapt faster to the brightness from outside. So, I slowly step towards the entrance. For a moment I hope to find here the real sky and the real Sun, yet in front of me lies another large cavern. An imposing golden pillar is placed near its center, perhaps thirty feet tall. On top of it, a strange creature is seated, meditating.

It looks mostly human but has a pair of large membranous wings emerging from its shoulders, like those of a bat. Three eyes are marking its face. Two of them look normal and are almost closed. Its third eye, in the middle of the forehead, appears more like a bright oval area that collects and emits light. The creature's skin has a dark brown color and is covered with black fur.

The light filling this location comes from the ceiling, like in many caverns I've seen before in this underground realm. It's yellow and much brighter than what can be produced by any luminescent creatures. Blades of blue grass cover the ground, and I can even see dozens of trees growing close to the far side of the cave. The cave itself has a diameter of over a thousand feet and a height of more than one hundred. As soon as I step in, the creature lifts its eyelids, gazing at me. I stop and look at it, too. A few moments later I can hear a man's voice inside my head, speaking in the Eldorian language:

"Who are you?"

"I am Alberto," I say in a loud voice, "a sailor coming from another world. I've got lost inside this maze of underground galleries, and now I'm trying to find my way out of here."

I can feel a smile coming from the mysterious being, who replies:

"You think it's that easy to escape from this realm? I have lived in this cave for more than five hundred years, and I'm still stuck in here. On the other hand, your apparition in front of me comes as a surprise. It's the first time I've got a visitor."

"I need to get back to my ship as soon as possible," I utter. "Outside, my people might not be around for more than two or three weeks."

"Time is of no importance in this place," counters the creature.

"It is, for me. I don't think I can even survive here for a month," I add. "I really have to find an exit as soon as possible."

The strange being is measuring me with his eyes, and his smile widens. Then he says:

"Only by arming yourself with patience will you find an exit someday. As I said, for five hundred long years I have been training my mind and body with the hope that I could see the sunlight soon. Apparently, I'm not ready for this yet, as until now I could not discover a way that leads above the ground. During my first years of captivity, I have explored many times all the galleries connected to this place. Nonetheless, no exit from any of them opens towards the outside world. If you are stuck here, there must be a reason. The body can't leave this place until the mind is prepared to do so."

No guest has visited him for all these years, he says. I suppose the five hundred years mentioned are measured in Esyonian years, which makes it a bit over four hundred years on Earth. Yet, how come the unfortunate soul who died in the first gallery has never made it to this place? I consider for a moment telling him about the human remains found there, then decide to keep silent about this issue for the time being. It's better to avoid talking too much in front of someone you've just met, and whose intentions towards you are not well-known. I just hope he can't read my thoughts. Better ask him about how should I prepare my mind if I want to leave these caves.

"Honorable host, then what should I do?" I ask.

"Meditate, like me. Use your mind to go beyond these rock barriers. Learn to see the true face of the Universe. If you persist in your training, someday you're going to find a path to take you out of here. Return to the hall from where you came. Train day and night until you are capable of going beyond your self-imposed limitations."

"Yet, this can take many years," I reply, with my voice strangled by fear.

"For some, it can take days, for others, millennia. However, it's the only way out of this cave."

"But I could easily die of starvation before accomplishing anything!" I retort, strangled by fear. "How can I survive with only a few mushrooms a day for such a long time? Then, what about dying of old age?"

"Everything is in your mind," says the creature. "If you train it to become powerful, you can live for millennia. As for food, when you understand the true reality, you can create with a single thought a sun under the ceiling of a cave and gardens with trees and fruits on its floor. I wish you success in your endeavor. To improve your food intake, you may pick from the trees behind me as many fruits as you can carry."

An idea strikes my mind: this creature has wings; maybe it could come to the lake hall and fly up to the ceiling, where the narrow gallery dug by the small worm is located.

"Honorable host," I say again. "I fell from the ceiling of a hall into a lake. It's a large cavern, with a bright yellow ceiling, although far dimmer than the ceiling here. The ceiling's height is about ten times my own height. I have a map with the way out, given by a new friend I met a few days ago inside this maze of galleries. If you can fly, you could reach the passage and exit this cave system in a few hours. Perhaps we can use tree branches to make a ladder. With a little help from your part, I might succeed in getting out of this place, too. We could both be out of here soon."

The creature watches me intently for a few moments, then responds:

"You say it has a bright ceiling. Please go back to that hall and check if you can still see that gallery above. If you do, then return here, and we shall work on your plan. However, I expect it to be gone by now."

"Gone?"

"Yes, gone. How do you think I have arrived here? Some paths that lead to this cave system are one-way only. Please, take some fruits from the trees if you like, then let me continue my meditation."

With a few words of thanks, I walk around the high platform and fill my coat, used as an improvised bag, with fruits of shapes, textures, and colors I've never seen before and unlike anything I have ever eaten. When I'm done, I hear the voice inside my head again:

"Now, go in peace and leave me alone, as I need to continue my training. Come back here when you have made some progress."

With a bow, I turn around and leave the cavern. In another thirty minutes, I'm back inside my own hall. Walking around the lake, I carefully examine the bright ceiling. The entrance of a gallery that is three feet wide should be easy to spot. However, there no such thing is visible. The winged creature was right: some paths leading here are one-way only.

I decide to spend the rest of the day meditating, delaying the third gallery's exploration until tomorrow. Better live one more day with the hope of a nearby exit than have it dashed within the next hours. Yet, before doing anything else, I eat one of the fruits. It looks like a pear but has the taste of a peach. It's delicious.

♣

_June 27_ — My meditation session didn't bring any change into the cave. It didn't make grass and trees grow, nor did it light a sun under the ceiling. However, it did calm my mind, indeed. After another night spent here, I'm ready to explore the third and final gallery. Unlike the first two, after going straight for thirty yards or so, it widens, reaching a diameter of about fifteen feet and descending on a mild slope.

With the stalagmite torch in my hand, I walk like this for about three hours. Then the passageway finally opens into a circular hall of roughly sixty feet in diameter and more than thirty feet high. Everything is sunk in total darkness, there are no luminous stalactites or stalagmites here. In the center of the cavern, I can see a circular natural well, maybe ten feet wide. The surface of the water is reflecting my face at a depth of about thirty feet. And that's all.

No other galleries, nothing to get me out of here. I already can picture myself dying of old age, with no hope of ever seeing the real sunlight again. Maybe the passageways that opens into the strange world with those primitive people has a hidden door towards the outside. I could go and explore it again in more detail. The middle gallery reaches into the winged creature's cave. He told me it's a dead end. Yet, who knows, maybe he's lying, attempting to discourage me from escaping? Still, why would he want to do that? My thoughts are clinging desperately to any glimmer of hope. However, for the time being, I shall go back to my cavern and get some rest.

It's already late afternoon (or anyway, this is my best guess without a sun or a clock) when I step back into the hall with the lake. There is nothing else to do except meditate for the remaining of the day. The same frugal dinner and a long bath in the hot spring end the evening's activities. Soon, the sleep wraps me in its veil.

♣

Every day I take a walk through the first gallery until I reach the world of the primitive people. There, I can hear the wind stirring the tree branches and feel the grass under my bare feet near the entrance. The fake sun rises and sets like in a real world. I visit the homes of the three families of humans and apes and listen to their talk or grunts when I find them inside. A couple of times I have yelled as loud as I could inside their dens. Only the most primitive creatures had some faint reaction to my voice. A moment later, they returned to their ongoing activities as if nothing unusual had happened. Repeating the act didn't get any more reactions.

At least, coming to this cave is a sure way to keep track of the passing days, supposing they have the same length as those on Earth or Esyon. Checking the cavern's limits, I have tried to go farther inside the forest of illusions, even after the spring, summer, fall, or winter became complete under my feet. I always reached the same invisible wall made of a material smooth like glass. I don't know who has built this grandiose theater scene and for what purpose. I still have no idea if there is a way to cross from this place to the other side. In any case, I should be thankful to its architect for helping me easier endure my prison time in this confined space buried deep underground.

Sometimes I visit the middle cave. I always find the winged creature seated on top of the stone pillar, meditating. He inquires about my progress. As there isn't much improvement in my spiritual powers, the creature asks to be left alone after a few minutes of conversation. However, he lets me pick from his trees as many fruits as I can carry. This addition to my diet is more than welcome. The stranger has never told me his name, and I have never asked for it. So, I began to think of him as the Winged Master.

The trip to the third cave takes a long time. I haven't visited it since. The well might open into a new underground network. However, I can't breathe underwater and would most likely drown if I dived into it. I alternate prayer and meditation as methods to help me stay sane and focused and to keep alive my hopes of getting out of here someday. Still, so far I haven't found a working plan that could put an end to my imprisonment.

I have brought a few grass seeds from the cave with the fake sun. I hope to see them sprouting in a few weeks, even though my cave is not so brightly lit. It's still a total enigma why the grass near the entrance is real while everything else seems to be an illusion, or better said a three-dimensional moving image of a world far away in space and time.

♣

Day after day I use meditation to probe with my mind this corner of the Universe, still hoping to find a path that can take me to the outside world. Yet, every time I sit down and let my thoughts come and go like the clouds in a serene sky, I can only feel emptiness. There is emptiness outside, and there is emptiness inside me. And pain, a lot of cosmic pain every time I think of Nivit.

The temperature in the cave is comfortable. I don't have to worry about being too cold or too hot. I have enough water, mushrooms, and occasional fruits to keep me alive for many years. The hot spring bath helps my body stay warm and clean. However, until I can understand why I am here, I might remain a prisoner of this underworld realm for a long, long time.

### nu

Wake up, let's wake up

delicately sleeping friend,

dreaming butterfly

**Matsuo Bashō (1644–1694)**

* * *

My eyelids are opening again, basking in the warm rays of the Sun that are caressing the tent's dark canvas. I wake up, get out of the shelter, look around for a moment, and can't remember where I am. My body seems to be in pretty good shape, but my heart is in deep pain. Why is it so? Why do I feel so much pain in my thoughts, so much sadness in my heart? The agony spreads through my body and goes out through my mouth, opening my lips and spelling out her name. Where is Nivit? What is she doing now?

This pain is not going away anytime soon. It has become part of me, like a fire armor. An armor I can't take off. I feel it in every joint of my body, in every muscle, in every bone. What's the point in living like this? There isn't any. Hope is not dead yet. For as long as a glimmer of hope continues to dwell inside my heart, I'm not going to give up. I shall keep fighting to get her back. I shall go to the end of space and time if I need to, and I shall keep searching every place from every world until I find my Nivit.

Filling my lungs with the cold air of the morning, I examine my surroundings. I'm inside a relatively large cave with an arched ceiling. Gradually, like ethereal white birds dancing over the first snow of the winter, my memories come back. My tent near the wall shows where I used to sleep during the terrible blizzard.

I open my log and check the date of the last note: it's August 5. That means today must be August 6. Or maybe not? Could I have slept for more than one night? My cheeks are covered by the same short beard as they were before I sank into the world of dreams. I can't guess how many hours have passed since last time I was awake in here. However, a better reference frame not being available, I shall assume that today is the 6th of August, with me lost in the middle of an unknown mountain pass, somewhere not so far away from the sea.

_Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming about being a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man._

What is the use of living in two realities if I'm a prisoner in both of them? Nivit is gone, and I can't follow her into Nosyon through the cave's walls. Maybe she has died for good, and I shall never know for sure what happened to my beloved unless I find a way to cross to the other side. And what if there's nothing on the other side?

Her white cocoon is still visible on the back wall, right in front of me, almost weightless and shining bright, like the shrinking patches of the melting snow from outside. The weather is warmer now, still, why would I want to continue my trip like this? Why would I want to keep struggling alone for a life with no joy in it? However, if I'm dead, I won't even be able to remember my love...

I want to enter the other realm, I want to find her. Yet, how can I leave this place and reach the location where Nivit might be living from now on? Is it necessary to come really close to death to suffer the same body changes and cross over? Even if that's the case, I'm not from this world, and there is a good chance the same laws of metamorphosis won't apply to me. On the other hand, what do I have to lose? I shall just take off my clothes, lie down on the floor, and wait. I shall wait inside this cave for as long as it takes until something happens, until something changes.

♣

At first, after the painful, long shivering of the muscles exposed to the low temperature of the night is settling down, the body is gradually becoming numb. You can still feel your legs and hands, but not as much as you used to. Unexpectedly, the blood is still being pumped vigorously through arteries and veins. Your internal organs feel warmer than before. Then, the body is becoming heavier and heavier. It's impossible to move, even a little, without using a tremendous amount of energy. The hours pass slowly, and the thoughts come and go, come and go like the fluffy clouds from outside the cave, carried through the air by capricious winds under a green-blue sky. I am the clouds, I am the sky, I am the thoughts coming and going. Coming and going...

Later, the eyes don't close anymore and cease to discern light from darkness. You can feel your abdomen moving up and down as you slowly breathe in and out. In and out. Your abdomen is the only part of your body still belonging to you, the only part you can control. The rate of your heartbeats has halved, your temperature is decreasing. Soon, you feel are becoming a stone. Feet, legs, hands, thighs, hips, chest, neck, and head, all your body parts are losing any sense of touch. Your thoughts come and go, come and go under a hard granite sky, fainter and fainter, like the dying echoes of a distant thunder.

Then, all the stimuli from the outside world are gone. The stone becomes sand. The sand becomes dust. The dust becomes water. The water becomes mist. The mist becomes air. The air becomes void. There is no breathing, you don't feel it anymore, yet you are not suffocating. There is no sound, no sight, no smell, no taste, no sense of touch, no cold, no warmth. Time is flowing with an unknown speed, with an unknown slowness. Or, who knows, maybe it is already frozen solid... You are flowing, pouring like the sand from an hour-glass, out of space, out of time. It has begun!

♣

Do butterflies dream? If they do, where are their minds wondering during the metamorphosis, the minds of these butterflies who have yet to become butterflies? Maybe some of them dream of being scientists, philosophers, monarchs, explorers, writers, or poets? The Universe itself is breathing inside a silky cocoon, inside my silk cocoon. Yet, there is no "my" anymore. It simply "is." Is being human better than being a butterfly? Is becoming a butterfly better than staying human?

_Between a human being and a butterfly, there has to be a difference._

However, is this distinction preventing the human from becoming a butterfly, or the butterfly from becoming human? The dreams, like fluffy clouds under an iron sky, come and go, come and go, never relenting, never stopping. I am only a dream inside a dream. This dream closes unto itself and prevents any escape. The time without time converges onto a single point without coordinates. There is no more room left for "I." There is no more time, no time, nothing but time, and the apparent contradiction of these statements fades away with my last thoughts, where "my" is only an illusion. At the same time, I am everything, and I am nothing. And, also, there is no I. What still exists, what still remains, it simply "is."

♣

When you open your eyes, there is only a uniform gray color to see, a gray that fills the whole Universe. Is this the first time your eyelids move up and let the light from outside reach your pupils? Have you opened these eyes in the past? Maybe they were different eyes, somebody else's eyes? Is the distinction real, or your eyes/somebody else's eyes used to be focused unto a single point from the present, beyond the long arrow of time?

_Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming of being a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man._

I wake up inside a cocoon, with no memories of how I got here. The last thing I remember is lying down on the floor and waiting for the fluffy thoughts to fade away, like majestic clouds carried by winds under a dark-blue sky. My hands reach out and easily tear the silky, almost weightless veil. Soon, my naked body is out of it. My skin has a pale blue color, and I can glimpse and feel on my back an ethereal pair of blue wings. Everything else looks familiar. My memories from before the metamorphosis are clear, yet the world feels completely different. I'm still myself, but I have also become someone else, both outside and inside.

Walking around the cave, I can see how the back wall has become translucent and wavy. It resembles the surface of a vertical lake, letting my gaze slide deep inside the rock and beyond it. However, the wall feels solid and unyielding to the touch. I can't discern what's on the other side. A valley surrounded by mountains seems to be there, but everything is wrapped in dark-blue mist.

Today I shall spend my last day in this world, then I will cross into the other realm. How do I know this? I have no idea. I just feel that my hours here are numbered. In the end, I'm not coming back to _Excelsior_ , at least not for now. Instead, I shall go to Nosyon, after the woman I love. Like Orpheus, who descended into the underworld to retrieve his wife, Euridice, I shall cross into the afterworld of this realm to bring back my Nivit.

Looking about, I find my clothes wrapped in a bundle next to the back wall. Probably a naked entrance into Nosyon isn't going to be full of glory and dignity. I remember Nivit putting her clothes back on soon after she had emerged from the cocoon, so I decide it's best for me to do the same. My luminous wings seem made of air. I can put on my shirt and coat on without disturbing their shape.

It is already afternoon, but what is the date? Nivit has spent thirteen days inside her cocoon. The only thing I can do is add the same amount of time for myself. So, I should guess that today is August 19. I can still touch the things from Esyon and step out of the cave for a short time, gazing at the mountains and at the narrow path that leads to the seashore.

The Sun is so bright now that my eyes hurt. I climb down into the mountain pass and attempt to walk a few steps along it. Yet, a few yards farther the path is becoming soft and slippery. Soon, my legs are not touching the ground anymore. There is no solid surface under my soles, and I can't go ahead. A little scared, I have no choice but to return inside the cave, where I'm relieved to have a firm connection under my feet again.

Hunger and thirst are gone. My new body seems to have enough nourishment from the energy gained during metamorphosis, at least for the time being. Again, I come closer to the back wall and try to see what's on the other side. Meanwhile, the wall has become a vertical wavy mirror, showing a distorted reflection of my new, unusual appearance. Its touch still feels solid, preventing me from crossing into Nosyon.

After sunset, I meditate for a while, then I say a few prayers. The time left is used to write notes in my log, in the pale yellow light of the luminous globe. I fall asleep inside the tent, knowing that this is my last night in Esyon.

### xi

_August 20 —_ When I wake up the next morning in the golden light of the Sun, the interior of the cave looks really bright. I decide to pack all my things, intending to take them with me.

The wall is not a mirror anymore but has become transparent. This time I can see on the other side a valley basking in the red light of a different sun. It's a little past nine o'clock. Carrying both backpacks, I'm approaching it slowly. The crossing feels like diving into a warm pool with turbulent water.

Then I have an unpleasant surprise. The bags are stuck near the stone surface, and I can't pull them along with me anymore. Caught unprepared, I drop the backpacks in the interior of the cave while my body has already completely passed the rock boundary. I try to cross back to recover them, but it's too late, the boundary between these two worlds has become opaque and rock-solid for me in the most proper sense possible. The bags with the remaining food rations, the luminous globe, the bear skins, and the tent, they are all gone.

Yet, my clothes and everything in my pockets could cross the boundary. And then I realize that the light wings were actually marking a halo around my body. Everything that stayed inside it during my last hours in Esyon has also suffered a subtle transformation and could get into the other world. There is nothing else to do but walk down onto the gentle slope that opens in front of my eyes.

I'm near a high vertical rock covered in red moss. A bit farther away, a small river is flowing. The valley is surrounded by rocky mountains of a pale-green color. Their snowy peaks are bordering a dark-green sky. I'm confident I shall soon find someone to direct me farther, to the place where Nivit has gone.

I'm trying to familiarize myself with this new environment. The air feels dense, almost viscous. Also, gravity seems significantly weaker. Every step pushes me about two feet high in the air. This issue makes walking a bit difficult and uncomfortable. A large, red sun, is shining high in the sky. The grass itself has a reddish color, except for a few blue flowers with small, triangular petals. I keep walking south for some time. Still, I can't find any people, any signs of civilization.

This area looks uninhabited. While I sit down on a boulder for a short rest, a large insect with a blue body and violet wings lands on my shoulder. It almost looks like a butterfly. A moment later, the creature takes off and soars towards the sky in a spiral. I follow it with my eyes, turning around to see its flight better. With the Sun shining now behind me, I'm in for a big surprise: my shadow is stretched by a pair of wings. They are attached to my lower back and have become part of my body. The wings feel real when touched, and I can move them like my hands or legs.

Why didn't I feel the wings as soon as I have entered Nosyon? Perhaps they weren't there yet? I suppose they took a while to materialize and become tangible.

I examine my shadow for a bit longer. It looks pretty much like I'm wearing a short mantle when my wings are folded. However, when I open them, their surface expands at least six times. They are iridescent blue and made from an elastic and sturdy material, with tiny striations going from the center towards the edges. On touch, the wings feel smooth and soft, like silk. My shadow, distorted by the narrow blades of grass, looks almost like a giant butterfly itself.

Then, maybe I should just rise up in the air and fly towards the end of the valley? This should make my trip much shorter. It's a strange feeling, but I can already sense my wings flapping behind my back as soon as I think about taking off. A few wing-beats, and I find myself more than twenty feet above the ground, in a quite unstable position. With a lot of effort, I manage to avoid a hard landing.

It takes about half an hour to learn on my own how to stay balanced in flight and how to advance through the air. However, once I've managed to control my wings, my flying speed is several times faster than my walking. Soaring high, I see an isolated blue tower on a mountain far away to my left but decide to keep moving along the vast depression surrounded by peaks and above the river flowing through its middle. Rivers almost always lead to cities and people.

I keep following the river course, taking breaks every hour or so. Four hours pass and I reach the end of the valley. I see an unusual city ahead, with towers and aerial platforms. A few towers, colored in white, are much taller than the other buildings. The roofs are painted in vivid colors, with the full spectrum present. However, green and blue are dominant. Most constructions seem to be made of marble or stone. About ten minutes later, I'm flying above the urban center.

♣

Clodell is one of the many cities in Nosyon. Most of its buildings are massive and have regular geometrical shapes. Numerous platforms are placed along the walls, used for landing and taking off. The imposing ivory towers built many generations ago have made this place famous worldwide. This world-wide...

I've heard no voice in my head, but I'm already familiar with these facts about the city. As if my mind had been in contact with some mysterious library while I was undergoing my metamorphosis inside the mountain cave... What other things have I learned and still don't know about them?

As soon as I get closer to the urban center, I see hundreds of people in the air. Below, on the streets bordered by exotic trees, many more are walking. I land softly in a park and ask for directions in Eldorian. Apparently, everybody here can speak it. It's obvious, this is the language of Nosyon, too. Being a newcomer into this realm, the locals suggest I go first to the city hall.

I follow their directions and reach an imposing dome made of glass and blocks of dark stone. The building is placed in a spacious square surrounded by tall trees with large red leaves, right in the middle of the city. After landing and entering the city hall, I get inside a maze of hallways and quickly lose my way, having no idea where to go further. Fortunately, some passersby help me find my way around.

Everybody here has blue cats. It will take a while until I get used to the new situation. Did the Lady in Green that I've met in my dream have wings, too? They were not visible when I visited her castle but could have been folded behind her back. Her long robe would have concealed them easily. Because I was dreaming, perhaps my vision was distorted, and I didn't notice the wings. Or, who knows, maybe her wings were missing. That last case would partly explain her self-isolation from other Nosyonians.

♣

Ten minutes or so after entering the city hall, I arrive in front of a tall counter. From the other side, a young man in uniform looks at me amiably and hands over a printed form to be filled in. The piece of paper asks for my name, age, occupation, the location of crossing, and my place of birth. I write down the requested information and hand it back. While reading it, the eyes of the clerk open wide and his wings begin rapidly beating the air, almost lifting him off the floor. I suppose the reason must be my place of birth.

"Please, come with me," he says. "It is a most unusual situation to have here someone who is not from Esyon."

He leaves the counter's care to a woman and leads me through a long corridor until we arrive in front of a blue door. The clerk knocks on lightly, turns the handle, and we enter a spacious room. Inside, another uniformed man, looking as young as the clerk, is sitting behind a massive wooden desk. My guide shows him the form and his mouth opens wide from surprise. He turns his face up and jumps from his chair, examining me with an astonished expression.

"I am Duval (the name is pronounced like 'Dew Vaal'), the president of the Clodell Census Bureau," says the man from behind the desk, gesturing at me to sit on one of the several empty chairs from the room. "You wrote in the census form that you are from Earth. Only people from Esyon cross to this place at the end of their lives. I suppose you already know that they don't grow old because they come to this realm when their existences turn too unstable to keep them alive there. So, how is this possible? How did you end up in here?"

"I am Alberto, from Earth," I reply, repeating what Duval has just read. "Well, it's a long story. Let's say that a storm brought me to the Island, and love called me into Nosyon. You know about my world?"

"Alberto, I would be grateful if you could tell me a detailed account of your adventures!" says Duval. "I assume that what you call the Island is actually Esyon. Earth has been known to Esyon for quite some time through sporadic visits by ship from the people who live there."

"Do you know about other places like Earth from where people come to visit Esyon?" I ask, a bit surprised.

"There are many worlds in the Universe where people live, but normally they never visit us. Earth is an exception because it is connected with Esyon through a gate that cancels the enormous distance between these two planets. However here, in Nosyon, we don't know how this gate works and why Earth is connected like this to our realm," comes Duval's answer.

♣

It takes me almost one hour to describe everything I went through since my arrival to the Island. I mention both realities where I seemed to exist and the way my adventures went on in each of them. Right before I begin talking, the president calls another clerk and asks him to write down everything I say. I'm impressed by the man's speed. He has no problem keeping up with my narrative in an alphabet with simple curly lines. It must be some kind of stenography, like the systems used by secretaries from my world. Some things don't change, wherever you go.

When I finally reach the end of my story, the Sun is already setting. We watch in silence its disappearance behind the distant mountain peaks. As the night begins to fill the room, a bright light appears on the ceiling. However, it doesn't come from the luminous globes used on Esyon but seems to originate from several white crystals mounted on the stone surface from above. I'll have to ask later how they work.

"Your adventures are impressive. If someone wrote a book about them, I'm sure it would have a lot of readers!" says the president. Meanwhile, another clerk comes in and brings us a plate with loaves of bread, fish, and fruits. A minute later, a second plate with a large bottle, containing a dark red liquid and two glasses, joins the one already on the desk.

"Dear friend, let's have dinner together here, in my office. Afterward, I shall tell my colleagues to look for Nivit's arrival in Clodell. I'm certain you are going to meet her soon. Meanwhile, please enjoy the food and ask me any questions you like. I shall do my best to offer you all the answers I can find."

I haven't tasted such good food in a long time. All this walking, flying, and talking made me ravenous. The dark-red liquid has a sour-sweet taste. It makes me think of peppermint tea, lemon, and honey.

I jump in with the first thing that comes to my mind:

"So, you say people don't really die but cross over when their life energy is depleted. What if someone is killed in a fight or loses his life in an accident?"

"Well, in that case, the person dies for a while. Yet, sometime later the body remains are going to regenerate. In certain instances, if the body was cut to pieces or badly damaged, or if parts of it are missing, the process can take months. However, in the end, it is still going to be put back together and spin a white cocoon around it until the deceased is conscious again and ready to cross over into Nosyon. The individual spends inside the cocoon between twelve and fifteen days."

"You mean, if parts are missing from the dead body, they grow back?"

"Something like this. Even so, as I said, the process may take a long time."

"Let's say, the person burns completely in a big fire."

"The cinder remains are still going to generate a small amorphous form, then a cocoon will form around it. After a while, the form inside will still slowly grow to normal human size and emerge from it as a living person, ready for the crossing to the other world."

"And where does the energy that helps the dead body regenerate come from?"

"Sunlight or moonlight, even in the tiniest amount, help the metamorphosis go on normally."

"Supposedly the person dies in a cave, in darkness, with no exposure to the Sun or the Moon. What happens in this situation?"

"I don't know. It's possible the unfortunate individual remains dead forever. Or maybe the poor soul suffers a different kind of transformation. Perhaps the body stays there to rot while the energy field of the person travels to a place different from Nosyon to begin a new life. Personally, I have no knowledge of such situations."

I'm thinking about the remains of the man or woman killed and partly eaten by a beast, found underground during our night expedition, close to the king's palace. Then I recall the skull and the skeleton discovered near the exit towards the cavern with the fake sun and the primitive people from the other reality/dream. I suppose I'll never know what really happened to them. Still, it appears to me they couldn't come back to life and didn't cross to the other side in the way the dwellers of Esyon do.

"So, what is the fate of the people in Nosyon? I suppose they don't live here forever, do they?" comes my next question.

"Things are more complex on our realm," says Duval. "Of course, they don't live forever and at some point have to say farewell to this world. Here, the crossing over doesn't take place when the life energy is low because normally this never happens. Sure, accidents may occur, and then the people involved cross over anyway. However, normally it's the people themselves who just know when their time has come. Many individuals see a bright light somewhere in the sky that calls them with an irresistible force. They soar in the air and cross over up there. Some may also leave Nosyon in ways similar to those from Esyon, like passing through a rocky wall."

"And where do the people cross over to?"

"Back to Esyon, of course!"

♣

I need more than a minute to process the answer. It's so unexpected and astonishing that for the first few moments I can't even think straight. So, people cross from Esyon to Nosyon and back all the time. Then they are really immortal! And this seems very easy to do, you only need to wait to die, or you can even kill yourself if you don't want to wait too long! I'm looking intensely at Duval, the next question on my lips:

"Then, people can cross over at will. You can just kill yourself and wake up on the other side."

"It's not that simple," he says, and a smile is blooming wide on his face. "Yes, you can cross over to Nosyon at will. All the same, coming back is not going to be that easy. We start here with our life force at a relatively low level. If you killed yourself now, you would cross over, but not onto the shores of the Island. You are most likely going to wake up in its underground maze of tunnels, and not as a person but as a lower life form, with all your memories erased. It may take centuries until you can evolve into a human form and be reborn into the realm above the ground.

"However, if you travel to the other side when your body is ready, you will come back as a human. Nevertheless, it won't happen in the way you think. You are going to be born naturally with a new body, a new name, and a new identity. You won't remember anything from your previous life. A new cycle starts with the new birth."

"Then, leaving Nosyon will mean the death of me as Alberto Shimada," I say. "There is no way out for me as myself, only for someone who WAS me. That must be the distinction Chuang Tzu was talking about."

"This is how it goes for our people. As for your case, nothing is certain. You'll find out some years from now, in fact, many years from now... I don't think I've heard of Chuang Tzu before. Who is he? And what is this distinction you have just mentioned?"

I tell the president about the great thinker and his story with the butterfly's dream. Duval is deeply impressed and asks his secretary to write it down, too. In the meantime, I'm also thinking about my situation. I'm from Earth. Why was I able to cross over? First of all, I wasn't dying, but meditating. Then, how can I be reborn in Esyon if I cross over again? I'm telling Duval these things, and he replies:

"That's exactly why we are all so astonished by your arrival here. I regret to say this, but I cannot help you with any answers. We don't know what's going to happen when you cross over again."

"Going back to the people being reborn inside Esyon, do all the newborns really come from Nosyon?"

"Not all of them. A few are entirely new beings, with both parents traits contributing to it."

"Can people make the difference between someone born for the first time and someone who has returned from Nosyon?"

"No, they can't. All the newborn individuals look like they have sprouted in Esyon for the first time."

"What about the people who cross back too early and can't evolve into a human form?"

"As I said, they end up usually in caves, far away from the populated areas. If they remain in their lower-life incarnation and don't improve in a reasonable number of decades or centuries, it's most likely that they will die out over time, never to be reborn again."

I had a quite long day: traveling on foot in the morning, flying part of the afternoon, then spending more than two hours talking in Duval's office. My body and mind are really tired after going through all these experiences. The president sees it, too, and says:

"It's getting late, we all need to have some rest. There are rooms reserved for the newcomers at the Green Dome. You will see the building if you turn south as soon as you walk out of here. Tomorrow morning we plan to look for the receipt of Nivit's arrival. With a bit of luck, you can be reunited with her by nightfall. And, if there is anything else you need, please don't hesitate to come here and ask me."

"If it's possible, I should also like to inquire about Robert, the first lieutenant from _Excelsior_ , who died in the battle against the people from Gold City."

"I'm almost certain he hasn't crossed into Nosyon," says Duval. "Like in your case, such amazing news would have certainly reached me, unless he has not used his true identity when filing in the arrival form. We can look for his name, too, that's not a problem."

The president gives me a transparent crystal cube about two inches in size and adds:

"This is your identification crystal. Please show it to the receptionists from the Green Dome. They will provide you with lodging and food for as long as you need until you find a proper living place. And one more thing: avoid flying at night, unless you have a luminous crystal attached to your head. The other people up in the air might not see you and are going to bump into your body or hurt your wings. Sometimes this can be quite painful and might also result in you losing your balance and falling from a great height. You don't want that to happen.

"Of course, I could give you a bright crystal right now. Yet, you are still new to this world, don't know the flying patterns in urban areas, and have never flown at night. It's better at first to get adjusted flying over the city during the day. The Green Dome is not far and going there on foot won't take long."

I use the stairs to descend to the street level, then begin walking towards my temporary accommodation. I'm still not entirely adjusted to the lower gravity of this world. Every step feels like a small jump in the air, followed by a soft landing. The streets are brightly illuminated by white crystals that help me find my way around with ease. The city and people look friendly, only the sky above looks dark and cold, in spite of the numerous stars spread across it. Directed by other pedestrians, I arrive a few minutes later at my sleeping quarters.

♣

The Green Dome is actually an imposing guest house for the newcomers into this world, or for travelers who need temporary accommodation. It's shaped similarly to the city hall, but the building is slimmer and taller. The way it looks makes me think of a giant hive. It has thousands of windows and twelve floors. Like most buildings from Clodell, it's made of shiny marble blocks.

I produce my crystal cube at the reception desk, as instructed by Duval. The female clerk inserts it into the square hole of a large metal box. Immediately, a pale halo of purple light, full of filaments, appears on top of the apparatus. Apparently, those filaments tell her all she needs to know about me. She displays a surprised look for a moment, then smiles, hands over a key, and directs me to a room on the third floor, without asking any questions.

"You can stay here for as long as you want," she says. "We provide two meals a day in the cafeteria located on the ground floor: breakfast and dinner. Usually, most of the newcomers who plan to live in our city move into better homes after about twenty days. The washing rooms and the toilets are at the end of the corridor."

I thank her for the help and information and step into the chamber. My temporary home is modest, as expected, displaying just a bed, a table, and a chair. The arched walls are painted in light green, with no decorations or pictures. A large oval window is marking the wall opposite the door. Pressing down a small handle near the door switches on a large crystal mounted on the ceiling. The room is instantly flooded with soothing white light. It's been a while since I have slept in a real bed. Last time it happened when I was in the village of Eldor...

I need a minute to get used to the washrooms and the indoor toilets. Luckily, the instructions written on the walls help me rapidly adapt to the new circumstances. Feeling somewhat cleaner and refreshed, I return to my room.

Taking off my coat and shirt proves to be a challenging operation, as my wings have become real after crossing into Nosyon. They have made holes in my attire and are protruding out of my garments. These holes are now too narrow to pull the wings through without tearing off my clothes. Too tired to look for a solution, I only take off my boots and fall on the bed, fully dressed.

I expected to feel uncomfortable lying on my back, with my weight pressing over my folded wings. Yet, apparently they are quite elastic and sturdy, and I feel no pain with my body on top of them. Of course, the low gravitation must have a say in this, too. The world of dreams spreads around me with the strength of a tornado, and I instantly fall asleep.

♣

_August 21_ — The Sun is shining into my window early morning, pulling me back to reality. During my first moments of being awake, I can't remember where I am. Soon, my memory is refreshed, and I retrace the events from the previous day. I'm in Nosyon, becoming accustomed to this new world and trying to find Nivit. Checking my pocket watch, I see it's already showing five o'clock, even though based on the Sun's position it seems to be about seven.

I haven't adjusted my watch since entering Nosyon, yet I get the impression this world has a longer day than Earth or Esyon. The time difference between these places seems to have shrunk since yesterday. I also remember that I haven't seen any clocks or watches in the city. Maybe they don't care much about measuring the time, but I do. Now, if there is a difference in day length, how am I going to keep track of the time spent here? Based on my pocket watch or based on the local sunrises? Well, I'll think about this issue later.

As soon as I finish washing, I go downstairs and ask for some help with my clothes. Several saloons where this operation can be done are available on the ground floor. My shirt and coat are quickly adapted through ingenious cuts, sewings, and laces so that I can take them off and put them back on in spite of the wings. I also get a new razor and shave my beard a few minutes later.

The weather in Clodell City is pleasant today. I won't need my coat, so I leave it in my room. After a big breakfast in the canteen consisting of bread, soy milk (or something close to it), potatoes (or something related to them), and aledo, I take off for the Census Bureau. Reading the street signs, I can see that here, like in Eldor, the proper names have roots and resonances that don't fit with the spoken language. They are sometimes even written with a different orthography.

I enter the Census Bureau and go to one of the available counters. As soon as my crystal is read by the machine behind it, the clerk in uniform jumps up and asks me to follow him to the president's office. Obviously, Duval must have given clear indications about me to all the people who work in this building.

I step into the office with the blue door. Inside, my new friend is working, filling a stack of paper sheets with beautifully calligraphed letters. Smiling widely, the president puts the pages away and invites me to sit down.

"Good morning Alberto," he says, "how was the first night in Clodell?"

"Good morning, Duval" I reply, "I had a good night rest in my room and a tasty breakfast a short time ago. My coat and shirt were also adjusted so that now I can put them on and take them off through my wings. Did you find any news about Nivit?"

His smile fades a little, but after a short pause he continues:

"I'm sorry. Nobody with this name has showed up in our city. I suppose she must have gone either west or east, or maybe even north. You see, there are many urban centers in this world. We have an efficient system of communication with them, using optical signals generated by crystals and a network of towers placed at regular intervals that can transmit the information for long distances. After sunset, we can ask all the neighboring cities about Nivit while we send them news about your arrival. I suppose she is not expecting you to come to Nosyon that soon, if at all. So it's us who shall have to search for her.

"Tonight, we intend to send messages to the fourteen cities situated less than five hundred sen away from Clodell and inquire about Nivit. They are going to check the records tomorrow and send back an answer by tomorrow night. Then we can direct you to the place where she lives now." After a short pause, the president adds: "Also, we have no news about Robert, the first lieutenant from _Excelsior_. Personally, I believe he has never crossed into Nosyon. Nonetheless, we shall also ask if he has been seen in any of these fourteen cities."

After Duval explains me the units for the distance on Nosyon, I find out that five hundred sen is equal to about two hundred and fifty miles. This is a large area, and I'm quite confident Nivit is somewhere inside it. I realize that waiting is my best option. Flying at random and checking all the neighboring cities would take me at least two weeks. I can use these two days that I'm going to spend in Clodell to get accustomed to my new life and learn more about Nosyon.

I ask Duval what is worth visiting here. He suggests I check the shores of the River Lor, the Art Museum, and the Library. He hands me a printed map, nicely folded to a size that can easily fit in a pocket. A few minutes later I'm back on the streets of this city from an alien world that is probably going to be my home for many years to come. Unless I can find a way to escape from here...

During the day, many people from the city tend to travel through the air, usually less than thirty feet above the ground and on the right side of the streets. I join the crowd of fliers that are crossing in long files the red-tinted dark sky from above, switch direction a few times around the corners, and soon find myself in front of the Library. It's an enormous cylindrical building with a dome-shaped roof. Large oval windows are placed at regular intervals in diagonal lines along its surface. The whinstone wall is covered with blue-leaved plants similar to ivy. The branches of the plants are bent in curved arches around the windows.

An hour in the lecture hall is well spent browsing a few books about Nosyon. They're written in the same alphabet with rounded shapes already familiar to me. The information contained in their pages helps me learn many useful things about this new realm.

In this world, people use small pieces of crystals as money. However, a lot of things are free here, like basic food and shelter. Otherwise, it's a society very much like the one on Earth, with merchants, scholars, farmers, writers, poets, musicians, lawyers, physicians, engineers and almost any other occupation that can be encountered in my country.

Most public office positions are usually occupied through comprehensive examinations and interviews. Those involved making important decisions for the individuals living in the cities are subject to both exams and general elections where all the local people can vote. There are no men or women who hold all the power. The leadership of every municipality lays in the hands of periodically elected groups, somewhere in the range of ten to twenty.

Festivals are frequently held in the cities, with spectacular songs and dances taking place high up in the air. If it weren't for the people's wings and flying, I should be tempted to think I have just arrived at an exotic place from my own world. I put the books back on the shelves and proceed to my next objective: the river that flows through the center of the city, dividing it almost symmetrically in half.

The waters of Lor are controlled by dikes and have an unusual pale gray color. A long park with trees similar to eucalyptuses covers both banks in the southern part of the city. Due to the lower gravity, their trunks look thinner and taller than on Earth or Esyon. Farther away, ivory towers more than four hundred feet tall are soaring above the canopy, marking the boundaries between the city quarters. I've read in the library that they were used in the distant past to defend the city from potential invaders. Who wanted to invade Clodell back then? It seems nobody has this information anymore, or it is rather difficult to find, anyway. Also, these towers look quite similar to those from Gold City, except they are much taller...

I glimpse many fish swimming in the stream, apparently easy to catch by anyone with the right tools. For a few minutes, I lie down on the soft grass and gaze at the sky. Its color is dark-green near the horizon and dark-red above, where the Sun is shining right now. A few fluffy clouds are floating in the south, pushed by a gentle wind.

The Sun's position suggests it's already noon. Many fancy restaurants are open in this part of the city. Nonetheless, their food is not free. I have no crystal-money, therefore I can't have my lunch in any of them. In fact, I can't have lunch at all.

With the thought of the dinner at the Green Dome roaming through my head, I try to suppress my hunger and proceed to the Art Museum. Its building is a massive cube made of an unusual yellow marble, displaying a facade decorated with floral patterns. There is no entrance fee, so I walk inside. I spend the whole afternoon admiring sculptures and paintings very much like those I've seen in my city. Most of them have a style close to the Italian Renaissance. Then I return to my room and rest in bed for one hour until the canteen downstairs opens for dinner.

After the evening meal, I ask the reception clerk how can I earn some money in Clodell. She gives me today's list of openings, printed with fancy green letters on a small piece of gray paper. I go through the offers before going to sleep and can't find anything appropriate for my skills. Most of them imply being a clerk or salesman. But wait! Just at the very end, I discover a job on a fishing boat. I suppose I can try my chances there tomorrow, before leaving for Nivit's place the day after.

♣

_August 22_ — I spend the whole day on a fishing vessel, floating downstream of Clodell City along the River Lor, throwing nets in and out of the water for a payment of twenty crystals. In the evening, I return to the Census Bureau, where Duval gives me the good news: Nivit arrived sixteen days ago in Verin, a smaller city in the north. She was given a room in the Guest House and is still living there. Unfortunately, there is no information about Robert, nor about the arrival to Nosyon of any other individual from Earth.

Could any of my shipmates who have recently died in the Gold City battle come here and pass undetected by using a fake name and place of birth? However, none of them, and that includes Robert, were able to speak the local language, so that option can't work. Unless they somehow avoided going into any populated area or ended up in an isolated place like that where the Lady in Green has built her castle. I'll never know for sure. Until new information comes up about this issue, I'll have to accept I am the only person from my world who ended up here.

I thank the president and go back to my room early. I need a good rest before the journey that awaits me. Verin is about one hundred and twenty miles away, so It's going to take me about six or seven hours to get there. To reach my destination, I shall have to rely on my wings and my feet.

The people in Nosyon rely on their personal resources when traveling. They only visit places that are located in populated areas. It's almost unheard-of for someone to go on a long journey in uninhabited regions. The burden of heavy luggage consisting of food provisions and other necessary items would prevent any person from generating enough lift to fly. Using animals for riding or flying is not really an option. For a fast journey, only a dragon would be large enough to carry an individual in flight, yet, do they exist in Nosyon, too?

Any of the fourteen cities situated in Clodell's relative neighborhood can be reached in a single day. There are fifty-two urban centers in Nosyon. All are placed in such a way that one can arrive at any of them in less than twelve hours, with meal and board provided for free at the destination. For longer trips, a flier would have to spend the nights in the cities along the way.

The cities are independent administrative units. This world doesn't have a central authority. All the people live on a single continental platform. Further away, the land is uninhabited, and nobody is known to have ever explored it. No sea or ocean exists near the populated places. However, Nosyon has many rivers and lakes scattered over its mountainous landscape. Also, there are no villages. People dwell exclusively in urban centers. Those who may choose to live alone in an uninhabited area are extremely rare. The inhabitants of this world strongly believe that a life with many social interactions can help them faster return to Esyon in human form.

Nosyon is a place with little history, or, better said, with recorded history describing only the recent times. You have no problem finding accounts of events that have occurred during the past two hundred and fifty years. However, nothing accurate is known about what happened earlier. It seems the libraries avoid keeping any records of events beyond two and a half centuries. The cities and this society have been in place "forever." In spite of the long lifespans of the people and the variety of occupations, this realm doesn't seem to have changed much for many centuries. Men and women have a comfortable life in this world and prefer the routine to innovation.

In the evening, while checking the time on my watch again, I conclude that their day is about one hour longer than on Earth. If I want to have at least a raw way of measuring the time, I may need to adjust my watch every morning at the sunrise. For every twenty-four days spent here, I shall have to insert an additional one on my calendar.

♣

_August 23_ — I buy a light leather bag for the price of five crystals and fill it with a few fruits, a smoked fish, and a loaf of bread. I'm not worried about thirst during my trip, expecting to find many springs or brooks along the way. Carrying all my meager possessions, I leave the Green Dome for a new home in Verin.

A final courtesy visit is paid to Duval, with the promise to inform him about my new address and exchange letters regularly. There is a postal service in Nosyon, where message scrolls are delivered by flying couriers. The service cost is two crystals per letter for the neighboring cities, rising to six for the farthest places. Shorter messages can be sent faster at night using the network of towers. However, they are rather expensive for personal use.

With the provisions bag strapped to my belt and rising with the thermals, I take a last look from the air at Clodell, at the River Lor, and then at the few communication towers marking the horizon. For one crystal I have also bought a foldable map that is going to serve as a guide for my journey. Far away from me, several people fly towards other cities. Nobody seems to be going towards Verin right now, so I'll have no companions during my trip. A few minutes later, I'm leaving the city behind, flying north.

From a height of about five thousand feet, all the land features are clearly visible, and I find it quite easy to maintain my line of flight. I follow north a valley edged on both sides by snowy mountain ridges. The weather is good, and the sky is almost serene. I can only see a few scattered clouds to the west, drifting through the air a little higher than me. The lack of wind or turbulence makes my trip easy and comfortable so far. I glide mostly, only needing to flap my wings a few times every ten seconds or so. Around noon, I take a break on a mountain slope, near a stream with crystal clear water, where I quench my thirst and eat part of my food. Thirty minutes later I'm back in the air.

In the early afternoon, I glimpse ahead a long, white shape crossing the sky. It's probably seventy feet long, and it is flying at a much higher altitude. Could that be a dragon, similar to those I had the chance to observe above the sea in the other reality/dream, next to the shores of Esyon? It glides really fast through the air and soon disappears beyond the mountain peaks. Definitely, a dragon. Seeing dragons both in Esyon and Nosyon makes me wonder if they don't often cross from one world to another without having to suffer any kind of metamorphosis. Who knows, maybe someday I shall find a way to do the same thing myself.

Two hours later, I can recognize the hexagonal towers of Verin, as displayed in the illustrations seen two days ago in a book found in Clodell's Library. Unlike Clodell, a place where over twenty thousand people live, Verin has only about seven thousand inhabitants. The city hall is easy to spot, right in the middle of the municipality. A circle of red trees surrounds the building. It has a domed shape, similar to the one in Clodell.

A notable difference is that here the granite has replaced the marble in most of the cases, giving this place a more rustic, fortress-like appearance. At the entrance counter, I produce my identification crystal and ask about Nivit. The female clerk fumbles inside a thick folder for a while and confirms that she is still currently staying at the Guest House. I shall have to ask about the room number at the reception desk there. With my heart beating like a drum, I thank the woman and take off for the place where my love lives now.

♣

I enter the Guest House at around 4 p.m. (based on the indication of my daily-adjusted pocket watch). The building is made of whinstone, in the shape of an elongated tower. It has twenty floors, a red roof, and a height of over two hundred feet. Like most buildings inside Nosyon, the Guest House displays many external platforms mounted on its walls, clearly designed for a population of flying people.

The clerk from the reception desk listens to my request and tells me to go to room 2005, on the highest floor. She adds:

"However, for the moment Nivit is not in the building. She started working at a local hospital as a nurse, soon after her arrival here. Usually, she comes back home after sunset. Would you like to leave a note for her?"

"I should certainly appreciate if you could help me with that," I say.

The clerk gives me a sheet of paper. I write a few lines in both the local tongue and my native language, explaining how I have succeeded to cross over and adding that I shall come back later. There is nothing else to do at the moment. Looking for Nivit at the hospital may hinder her from work and put me in a bad light in front of the doctors and patients there. Waiting for her at the entrance doesn't feel right, either. I shall just take a walk or fly around the town, calm down my emotions, and put my thoughts in order.

♣

It's already dark when I stand in front of room 2005 and knock lightly on the door. It opens almost instantly, and one moment later Nivit jumps in my arms. Holding hands tightly, we step into her room. Finally, we are together again, and nothing else matters. For long hours we tell each other our adventures until the sleep defeats us. Still, despite being so happy to see me again, Nivit seems a bit disappointed about the fact that I'm now a citizen of Nosyon. Nevertheless, she tries not to show it.

Her story is shorter than mine. After crossing over from Esyon, she wanted to see me one last time and tried to come back to the cave. Of course, the passage was gone, and all Nivit could do was push in vain against the solid rock. Unlike me, she needed only a few minutes to learn how to lift her new body into the air. Then, instead of going along the valley, Nivit decided to fly over the mountain, to the north. She was hoping to find a different cave entrance that would help her return temporarily to Esyon. Unfortunately, nothing like this was visible from above.

As soon as she passed the peak, she could spot a tall, narrow building far ahead and decided to fly in its direction. It was a communication tower. The person there directed her farther north, towards the nearest city. Three hours later, Nivit could see the towers of Verin far away, shining brightly at the end of the valley. She decided to go and settle there for the time being.

Nivit's journey north took about four hours. They gave her this room inside the Guest House for as long as she wanted to live here. Two days later, Nivit was already working as a nurse at the local hospital, taking advantage of her sound medical qualifications. If she planned to stay longer, she could be soon promoted to a fully qualified physician.

I ask Nivit if she has any family members in Nosyon. She says she has searched for her mother through the long-distance communication system between cities. However, they could not find her in any database.

"What about grandparents or other relatives?" I insist.

"My parents came to Eldor from downriver. They never told me about their previous living place or about their own family connections. I don't know the name of my grandparents. Of course, I have inquired about a few people from Eldor who have crossed over in the past, sent them letters, and they replied in the same manner. Unfortunately, they all live in remote cities. So far, I still haven't decided whether I want to stay in Verin or move somewhere else. Now it doesn't matter anymore. As long as you're with me, Alberto, I'm happy to live anywhere."

♣

_August 24_ — A sunny morning welcomes us, and we both jump out of bed at the same time, bathed in the warm golden-red light of the dawn. Nivit will soon go to work. In the meantime, I plan to look for something useful to do myself. Housing, breakfast, and dinner, are free here, too, but I shall have to pay with crystals for other things. We have a light meal downstairs, then return to room 2005.

"What kind of health problems do you treat in the hospital?" I ask her.

"As you may already know, our new bodies have a high ability to regenerate. A deep cut on the skin would heal in a few hours. Bones are difficult to break, yet, if this still happens, they can be easily put together and will fuse back in a week or so. The wings are sensitive to moonlight burns. Still, it's not difficult to protect them by avoiding long flights when the Moon is up and the sky is clear. Nonetheless, this world, as nice as it seems at first glance, is tortured by its limits."

She continues:

"This society hasn't changed for millennia, in spite of the much younger age of the public archives. During their long lives, some of the people dwelling here are overpowered by boredom and begin suffering from depression. Because depression and melancholy decrease their vital energy and affects their chance to return to Esyon in human form, the individuals who become sick come immediately to us for treatment. Most of the hospital's patients are this kind of people."

"That's really interesting, and a bit unsettling," I reply, frowning. Then I produce a broad smile and add: "However, with you by my side, I doubt I could ever become bored or depressed."

She returns my smile and says nothing more. It's time to start her work shift at the hospital. With a last hug and kiss, Nivit steps out through the window and soars in the air.

♣

This time, I want a job where I can put my abilities to better use, so I choose to go to the main library from the city and see if I could start teaching the local people about Earth and its science. There are no schools in Nosyon in any proper sense because there are so few children.

Those who die in their youth in Esyon grow up in Nosyon until they reach adult age. However, no children are born in this world. This realm is more like a purgatory with a taste of paradise (and sometimes of hell) for those who ended their life cycle in Esyon.

Unlike the men and women from Earth, the people from the Island can't really die. They just move to the next stage of their existence in an infinite loop, with a complete memory erasure at the end of every cycle. I wonder if this is not a death in itself. How can you pretend you had a previous life when you have no memory of it whatsoever?

At least I expect to return to the Creator when my life is finished. I don't know what is going to happen then, but I'm certain He knows what's best for me and for any other human being from my planet. And suddenly I can't refrain from feeling infinite pity for these people. Immortality comes at an extremely high cost, indeed. What is His plan for the men and women from Esyon and Nosyon?

Nonetheless, I'm part of this world for the time being, even though I came here in a different way. Perhaps I have already become one of them, forever caught in this circle of transformations. No matter what, I shall not give up my hopes of returning to my world. However, I need to understand this realm before any attempt to escape from it. I just hope that when I die, I shall wake up in the real heaven instead of starting a new life cycle on Esyon. And then, what's going to happen to Nivit?

♣

The library from Verin is shaped like a hexagonal prism. A spacious glass dome on its top is used as a lecture hall. I talk to a few people who work there, and they advise me to write a book about Earth instead of teaching a course about it. I shall be paid five crystals for each written page if the quality is considered good. Once a week, I can deliver what I have written and receive the payment. The contract is not bad, and I accept it gladly. Another piece of advice I receive there is to talk to the publisher of the most important local newspaper. He might be interested in starting a new weekly column about Earth if I agree to write it.

I leave the library and walk the five hundred yards to the local newspaper building (I've just realized I prefer walking to flying if the distance is not long). The suggestion from the librarians proves useful. The publisher is glad to hire me and will pay twenty-five crystals per article. Now I have two jobs that could be sufficient to make my life in Nosyon free of worries. I use two crystals to buy a pen, paper, and ink, then return to the Guest House and go on with my writing until sunset, when Nivit comes back and finds me absorbed in my new work.

♣

_Undated_ — The days pass with constant speed and without many notable events. A week after my arrival to Verin, Nivit and I moved into a cozy house surrounded by a garden full of trees. Our new home is located near a small river, called Yan, that flows at the city edge. Sometimes I wonder why we have decided to stay in this city and didn't move back to Clodell. I suppose I should blame my intuition for it. There is something peculiar, something hard to describe related to this place. I get the feeling that a gate through which we could escape as ourselves is somewhere not too far away.

We continue to work for crystals, but prefer to spend most of our free time together, at home. Nivit often talks to me in my language and already does it without any trace of a foreign accent. This way of communication has become the perfect method to isolate ourselves from any stranger's ears when we want to share our little secrets in a public place.

We both decided to learn more about this world and get a deeper understanding of its purpose. Almost every day we look for ways to escape from here as ourselves, without having our memories erased and without being reborn in Esyon. This place is definitely not hell. Still, for Esyon and Earth, we are as dead as we can be. Sometimes I have this uncomfortable feeling of living in a dream.

I often spend long hours in the library from the city, browsing books that describe this world in detail. So far, to my surprise, I've found very little useful information. Twice a month, usually accompanied by Nivit, I visit Duval in Clodell and spend one night in the guest house from there. Duval does his best to be of help, but so far he couldn't provide any answers to my most important questions.

Traveling to other cities and checking their libraries wasn't really useful, either. Both Nivit and I do such trips periodically, trying to learn as much as we can about this planet. All city libraries have novels and poetry, raw geographical information on both Esyon and Nosyon, and books about crafts, agriculture, architecture, engineering, medicine, and some basic science. Little history exists about any of these two worlds, and it only covers recent times. Esyon itself proved to be not an island but a continent surrounded by water about the size of Europe. Several cities are placed here and there on or near the coast, but it seems the inland area is mostly uninhabited. And what lies beyond the ocean, nobody seems to know.

On the red-green sky from this realm, slightly north of Verin, the clouds are sometimes arranged in a strange spiral formation. The spiral center, when visible, is always located in the same place above the ground. Apparently, similar occurrences can occasionally be witnessed above a few other sites, even more to the north. The phenomenon has been described in several books and is well-known to most people. These unusual regions are situated way too high for the wings of the Nosyonians, and nobody could ever observe them from a close distance. Perhaps that's why they are called by the locals "eyes in the sky."

At night, a large spiral nebula appears above, covering a significant part of the celestial sphere. Its angular diameter is about twenty degrees; that means about forty times the apparent size of the Sun or Moon from Earth. When the local Moon rises and the sky is clear, the streets look rather deserted. Most people prefer to stay indoors to avoid any burns on their wings. Checking its angular diameter, I could confirm that the moon here is about as big as the sun in Esyon in the same way the sun here is about as big as the moon in there.

Why would the Moon cause sunburns to the wings? Because it is actually the Sun? Are our new bodies so sensitive to the sunlight? Then, is Nosyon real or is it only a dream, an illusion for the people who cannot be counted among the living anymore? And then, how can we define "real"? How different is really this place from how we perceive it to be?

Sometimes I wonder why we use these crystal cubes as identification cards. How are they read by the boxes from the administrative offices? Duval couldn't or maybe didn't want to give me a good explanation on this topic. Perhaps the crystals amplify our vital energy and help us cross over when our time comes? I suppose keeping them near our bodies charges them somehow with the information coming from our unique energy aura. Hopefully, I shall find an answer to this question soon. I have compared my crystal with the one belonging to Nivit, and we saw no external difference between them. Still, somehow, I "feel" which one is mine and the same goes for her.

Besides that, we don't know where do these crystals come from. We don't know the source of the money-crystals, either, nor the origin of those used to light the buildings at night. Are all these crystals mined somewhere, in a secret location? Nobody seems to know anything about their provenience.

There is a festival in Verin almost every week. Most of these feasts are celebrated with music, dancing, and elegantly choreographed group flights in the air, in some cases three thousand to six thousand feet above the ground.

An important local event is celebrating the annual migration of the lizard-fish who return to the source of the River Yan for a new cycle of their lives. People like to follow them in the sound of drum beats, slowly walking along the banks forested by trees with thick trunks and blue leaves. There are ceremonies for the New Year (the year on Nosyon is shorter than on Earth, even shorter than Esyon's year), the Harvest Day, the Cross-Over day, and so on.

Nivit and I took part in some of these activities ourselves and had the chance to make many new acquaintances. Maybe, in the end, life here is not that bad. However, we would both like to get back to Esyon soon. A better understanding of Nosyon is the first step in finding a way out of here. We already know, it may take a long time to escape from this realm if we want to succeed without changing into inferior creatures. Nevertheless, the "natural" return to Esyon, many years from now and with a total memory loss, is not what we hope for.

As I have written before, Nosyon's books don't go much back in time. However, the current year count of this realm is 7546. What events took place earlier than two hundred and fifty years ago, remains an enigma. Sometimes I can find stories that supposedly date back five hundred years or more, yet no specific information about the society or technology that existed during that time is ever available in the text. They look more like fairy tales. Nosyon seems to be a realm entirely frozen in time, a place that never really changes, except for the people who cross over into it and from it.

There are no old men or women in this world, either. In fact, someone crossing over from Esyon at an older age will gradually become younger, reflecting the life energy increase specific to Nosyon. When the time to cross back arrives, that person will look like a young individual.

Once I asked Nivit if she ever dreams about continuing to live in Eldor in another existence, where she hasn't met me. Surprisingly, she answered that she only remembers this reality. Am I the only person with two parallel existences? Probably not, but I might be the only one who recalls both of them. Yet, my other life has been dormant for a long, long time. Perhaps this is the only reality left for me, too.

### omicron

Do butterflies dream? If they do, where are their minds wandering during their metamorphosis? These butterflies who have not fully become butterflies, what are they thinking, what are they feeling? What if there is no dream at all? What if there is no present, past, or future butterfly at all?

My eyes are slowly opening, and I see above me the dark, rough ceiling of a cave. For how long have I been lying here on my back? What day is today? What time is now? I don't know the answers to any of these questions. My mind feels foggy, and I can't think clearly.

After a while, I lift myself into a sitting position and fumble through my log. My newest notes seem to be from just before leaving Esyon, even though I remember spending a long time in Nosyon after that. I have crossed into the other world on August 20. However, this story apparently only exists in my memories, nothing about this event is written on my pages. Well, of course, nothing is written about it, or I'd be in Nosyon right now...

My last notes are from August 6. So, is it August 7 now? Or it is August 20? Or maybe even a later date? I reach for my face and find my cheeks covered by a short beard. Yet, my beard had kept growing even from before the start of the blizzard. It's been more than three weeks since then, so this is not a good indicator of the time duration spent in here. And in case I did meditate for thirteen days, maybe my metabolism has slowed down considerably, and my beard hasn't grown much anyway. It's hard to say whether I have lived in this cave for twenty or for thirty-three days.

_I do not know anymore whether I had formerly been a man dreaming I was a butterfly or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man._

_However, between a human being and a butterfly, there has to be a difference._

If the butterfly is gone, only the man remains. Here, alone in the mountain cave, I'm still in a state of confusion, unsure about what to do next. I see the white cocoon left by Nivit hanging from the cave's wall. A little farther from it, another one is glistening in the half-darkness. Is this mine? However, I am here, in Esyon. So, if the second cocoon isn't mine, then who went through the metamorphosis? And if it is mine and I have crossed over, then why am I here?

Now, the third reality/dream seems to have opened in front of my eyes, and my existence is already going along too many paths. I want to end this madness, I want to wake up, but instead of this, I'm just forced to drift from one dream to another.

Oh God, please stop it! However, prayer doesn't give me any quick resolve. I attempt to meditate, but meditation doesn't expand my mind anymore. Running, jumping, or screaming also wouldn't help me reveal what's real and what isn't.

Two almost identical backpacks lie next to the back wall of the cave. Everything I remember taking place on August 20 seems to have actually happened. Then, this means today's date is August 21? Or maybe even a much later date? The strangest thing is that I have crossed to the other side fully dressed and with all my small possessions inside my pockets, yet my clothes, my log, my watch, and the little folding knife, I also have all of them with me now and here. On top of that, I don't recall returning from Nosyon.

I come close to the wall and check the backpacks. They still have some food supplies inside. The relatively low temperature has kept the rations edible. I grab a frugal meal from what's available, then I put everything useful, including the tent, into a single piece of luggage and turn towards the exit. It's a beautiful morning outside, and I am here, alone with my pain. A deep, dark, burning pain that is tearing my soul apart. And beyond it, a faint hope, glimmering far away in this viscous twilight from my mind.

As long as there is some hope left, I can keep going, I shall keep going.

♣

My initial plan has not changed. I have to reach _Excelsior_ and tell the captain about my tribulations in all my three existences. My intuition suggests that if I can do that, if I can get back among my people, all the realities/dreams are going to fuse together and I shall be able to live once more like any other human. I believe that when this happens, I can finally find a way to be with Nivit again.

In this reality/dream, I got separated from my crew on June 13. However, there is another reality/dream where this event happened on June 19. Meanwhile, in another reality/dream, I have crossed into Nosyon on August 20 and have been living there for many weeks, perhaps several months already. Time doesn't even seem to flow at the same speed in these three lives anymore. In the other two, I am a prisoner, but in this existence I can move around freely and have a chance to return to my crew.

There is nothing else to do but go back to my ship as fast as possible. After reaching _Excelsior_ , if I can still find the vessel near Gold City's shores after so many days, I plan to travel back to Eldor and tell Eori about what has happened in the mountains. In this reality, Nivit is in Nosyon, but I can try again to cross over. It seems I have already succeeded once. But right now, another "I" already lives there. So, what is going to happen then, if I travel once more into the other realm? Shall I meet myself in Nosyon? And what if the existence of my other self there is going to prevent me from crossing over for a second time? My future looks very hazy in each of these existences, indeed.

However, if I have really crossed into Nosyon, then, sooner or later I shall wake up again into that reality/dream. Then, it's better to keep my current existence as a spare life, a life/dream where I am still free to go anywhere I want. And if I manage to find inside it a way to escape from Nosyon as myself, I could use the information to return safely to Esyon with Nivit after I wake up on the other side.

Then what about the existence where I am a prisoner of the underground maze? In that world, Nivit must live a peaceful life in Eldor, and she doesn't even know me. If I wake up again into that reality and find a way to escape, I shall also go to the village and look for her there.

With these thoughts, I leave the cave behind me and get back onto the lane that leads to the sea. The weather is good, and I am advancing rapidly through the deep pass. Soon, the pass gives way to an exposed narrow path climbing a rocky slope. I step up my pace and reach the mountain peak in about two hours. The air is thin, and any physical strain makes me easily tired. It's also cold. When I breathe deeply, I can feel it stinging my lungs. However, it's nowhere near as bad as during the snowstorm. This time my clothes are thick enough to protect my body from freezing.

This place must be located at a high elevation, maybe close to ten thousand feet above the sea level. Ridges after ridges with peaks covered in snow are lining up now behind me. Far away ahead, I can finally see the Ocean. Yet, there is something about this ocean that looks alien and quite unsettling. The water has a deep gray color and reflects a violet sky. And it's not located south of my current position, as expected, but east.

I gaze at the Sun. Does it look similar to the one I knew on Esyon? Perhaps it is a bit brighter and smaller? I look around until I find a pebble about the size of my little finger's nail and attempt to do my experiment with its angular diameter. Unfortunately, this time this is not against the Moon. The light is blinding. I don't have a darkened glass, and even though I use my handkerchief as a protective screen, it's impossible to see the bright disc clearly through the coarse fabric.

Probably it is the same sun. I might be too suspicious in thinking its diameter is slightly smaller. Yet, I can't tell for sure whether I'm right or wrong. My legs are shaking from fear of being lost again, and I need to sit on a flat boulder for a while to regain my composure. I have a feeling that this is not the right ocean, not "my" ocean. I take a lunch break and start thinking in earnest about what to do next.

Turning back to Eldor would most likely take two or three weeks, then again at least a couple of more weeks to reach Gold City, and only if I can avoid going against the powerful river stream. Supposing I manage somehow to reach the city on that route, things should become a bit easier. I now speak well the natives' language and, with appropriate dressing, could probably pass for a local and enter the urban center without arising any suspicion. Unfortunately, all this is only wishful thinking.

The most difficult challenge by far remains the return trip to Eldor. The gallery I've used to travel here is blocked, and I won't be able to go through it. Climbing the peaks is going to be dangerous and will take a really long time. I suppose I could get some food provisions and even some vines to be used as ropes from the mountain oasis, provided I can FIND it on my way back... After everything that happened recently, I must take Nivit's warning seriously. Even so, I am not sure I have enough food to keep me going until there. In addition to all these problems, there is no guarantee that I shan't be caught by another snowstorm on my way back.

There are too many risks involved. It is impossible to reach the village in a week, even if I can miraculously solve the food problem. On the other hand, I could arrive at the strange ocean by tomorrow afternoon and see from close if it really is as different as it seems from here.

I must have overreacted a little earlier. This has to be the same ocean, and I certainly am in Esyon. In case things are not how they are expected, I still can go back to Eldor along the path that led me here, with only a few days of delay, but perhaps with enough food supplies gathered on the shore. And so, I won't starve if I can't find the oasis on my return trip. With this thought, I begin my descent along the rocky slopes covered in snow.

♣

The Sun is setting behind the uneven horizon, and I'm looking for night shelter. High in the sky, reflecting in the last red rays of the sunset, a snake-like creature is swimming through the air above the endless expanse of water. It's a dragon. White birds are gliding in flocks towards the land at a lower elevation, looking for a place to rest until morning. One of them comes closer and flies a few times in circles around me. It looks very much like a seagull.

I soon find a narrow platform sheltered from the wind by a large rock and decide to set up my tent on it. A stream with clear water flows nearby. There is no wood for a fire, no local food, either. However, my rations should still keep me going for another two days if I eat sparingly. After a frugal dinner, I go inside my canvas shelter and meditate for about half an hour.

One's expanded senses tell one that this is neither Esyon nor Nosyon, but a different world. Apparently, at some point, one passed through an invisible door and crossed into a different world. Perhaps this happened right inside the first gallery when Eori and Ron were still with one and Nivit. With the gallery blocked, one could be now a prisoner of this new realm.

No, this can't be true. During meditation, this entity that wasn't an "I" anymore felt the planet rotating around its sun. There was no difference in perception. Supposing, however, that this body has left Esyon, the crossing could have actually happened after the snow storm, somewhere along the way here.

Or maybe the new awakening itself sent this body, the cave, and the mountains into a different realm. Who knows, perhaps the crossing over into Nosyon did it. Retracing one's steps brings no guarantee of getting back into Esyon. Yet, there must be a way out. One feels the existence of a passing point. There is a crossing gate near the shore, one only needs to find it. Slowly, I come back to this realm of illusions and think about my new situation for a long time, until I finally sink into the world of dreams.

Soon after falling asleep, I wake up hearing human voices near my tent. Excited and surprised, I take my light globe and go outside to meet them. Yet, all I can see is a flock of birds resting behind a rock that protects them from the cold wind.

They really imitate people's talk well. Yet, the words make no sense as they are repeated at random, parrot style. However, the use of the Eldorian language suggests these birds have heard the words from somebody who might have walked along the same path as me. In this case, other people must be living on the shore, maybe not so far away from here. I'm not alone, I might actually meet other human beings and get help by tomorrow. With this thought, I return to my shelter in a better mood. Soon, I slide again into the world of dreams while breathing the high altitude cold, damp air.

I hear Nivit's voice whispering something in my ear. I can't understand what she is saying. When I open my eyes, I find her lying down next to me, inside the tent. I open my mouth to ask her how she came back. Right at that moment, her body quickly turns into a white mist and vanishes in the air. I try to reach for her, but it's too late. Then I open my eyes for real. It was only a dream. A painful dream.

♣

_August 22 (date estimate based on my best assumptions)_ — After a meager breakfast from my dwindling food rations, I begin my long descent towards the sea. The weather continues to be good, the path is more comfortable to tread on. My trekking speed has almost doubled compared to yesterday. At noon, I'm already less than two miles from the coast.

After a lunch break of about half an hour, I resume my journey with renewed energy. The close range of the destination almost gives my legs wings. One hour later, I am on a narrow beach, looking at the gray waves of the ocean. The weather is pleasant, the air is warm, I won't need here my overcoat from the bear skin, so I fold it up and put it in my backpack.

The sky still has a violet tint above, but its overall color is blue-green. This makes me feel a little better: the environment here is not so different from Esyon. In spite of what I felt during my recent meditation, maybe I'm still in the same world after all. When I see the Moon, I shall know for sure.

The cliffs near the shore are partly covered with blue moss. A cool breeze blows from the restless expanse of water. I'm looking for a tide line but can't see any. The moss and some algae covering the slopes go all the way up, their density gradually dwindling with height. I shall take care of the tide line later. Right now, I need to look about for a human settlement, a source of fresh water, food, and wood for building a raft. So far, none of these are visible. In fact, on my way down to the Ocean, I didn't notice anything suggesting the presence of humans in this area, in spite of my early morning hopes.

For a better view, I decide to climb a tall rock near the shore. From more than a hundred feet above the sea level, I'm going to have a clear view of the coast in both directions. The rock is slippery and hard to grab when I try to pull myself up, and I need about fifteen minutes to reach the top.

Towards the south, the beach is extending all the way to the horizon on a straight shoreline marked in some places by rocks and stones. Yet northwards a small forest is visible, only about two miles away. It grows on an elongated platform, probably more than fifty feet above the sea level, next to a high cliff that prevented me from seeing it from the mountain slope during my descent. I'm sure that besides trees for a raft, I can find there fresh water, food, and perhaps even people. I'm saved!

It is already late afternoon when I finish climbing down the rock and start walking towards the forest. About half an hour later, I'm going up the slope that leads to the plateau with trees. Most of them strongly resemble coconut trees, so widespread on the islands from the Pacific Ocean. Some even have fruits high up, similar to coconuts. Others look like bamboo sprouts, displaying thin segmented trunks with hard and elastic wood.

The bark of most trees is covered with a wet, greenish, sticky substance. Maybe this is some kind of protective layer, similar to the resin produced by coniferous plants. I find no animals or insects here, only glimpse a few small, vividly colored birds among the branches. A little farther, I discover a clear waterfall streaming from a cliff. Now I have wood, water, and food. All that's still missing from the picture is a human settlement.

The forest grows over an area about one hundred and fifty feet wide and perhaps seven hundred feet long. I spend the rest of the afternoon exploring the platform, collecting firewood and coconuts, and choosing the best dry trees to be cut later for a raft. Looking at the ground, I remark it's covered with sand almost everywhere.

Why is this grove so high above the sea? Why can't I see any trees on a lower level and closer to the shore? Could it be that the tide of this ocean is almost fifty feet high here? I keep looking for a tide line but can't find anything as clearly marked as in my world. If the tides are so high on this beach, I need to be careful where I set my camp. Yet, even in Gold City's harbor, the sea level easily fluctuated by ten feet, so, why not have it even higher here? However, a fifty-foot tide would imply an impressively large moon, or one really close to the planet... Who knows, maybe an entirely different phenomenon is the cause of the sand so high above the sea.

I decide to leave my tent packed and shall spend the night sleeping on the soft sand, among the trees. The terrace where they grow appears to be a secure place. There is a chance the tide even reaches this level once in a while: the dry sand makes me suspect that. However, I think it doesn't happen too often. A few seagulls are fishing nearby, repeating human words in nonsensical ways. I wonder where and when they have learned them.

At dusk, I start a fire by repeatedly hitting two stones found on the beach until enough sparks land onto a small heap of dried leaves and twigs gathered a bit earlier and set it alight. I heat some of the remaining dried meat from my rations, eat a coconut, and relax watching the dance of the flames. Tomorrow I'm going to begin building my raft. Then, three or four days later I shall be ready to sail along the coast. After another four or five days, I hope to see _Excelsior_ and my crew again. Of course, I could try to walk along the shore, but this would take much longer on the uneven terrain. The time spent building the raft is not going to be wasted. With each new hour spent here, I'm more convinced I haven't left Esyon.

After nightfall, I look for the Moon, but it doesn't show up above the horizon. The Moon's presence would appease my remaining worries. Its size and surface features should help me know for sure whether I'm still in the same world. The stars look pretty much the same. This has to be Esyon! With this thought, I pray for God's help and a safe return to _Excelsior_. I make my bed at the edge of the plateau, on the soft sand that covers the ground. Soon, the fatigue takes over, and I tumble into the world of dreams.

♣

I suddenly wake up, aware of a foreign presence nearby. I open my eyes and look around. There is nobody within sight, yet I continue to feel as if someone is watching me. This invisible entity is radiating an aura of peace and trust. Could it be an angel? I'm trying to move, but my muscles are numb and refuse to obey my command. Am I awake, or am I dreaming? A few moments later I regain control of my limbs and rise in a sitting position. I'm surprised by my freedom of movement and immediately see my body as a separate entity, still lying down on the sand, deeply asleep.

Someone is standing in front of me, indeed. The stranger, who seems to be a man, is clearly visible now as a beautiful humanoid shape made entirely of white light. I cannot distinguish his facial features, but I know my prayers have been answered because an angel has come to my help.

"Who are you? Are you an angel?" I ask him directly, skipping any introduction.

"You can call me that," he replies in a melodious voice.

"Have you come to help me return to _Excelsior_?" I continue, with my heart full of hope.

"Yes, I am here to guide you. We did not plan to intervene too much in the way this world is operating, but now the flow of time and the laws of causality have been perturbed and distorted in too many locations. It's a positive feedback loop, a self-amplifying process that can make this whole realm unstable, cut the connection bridge to your planet and destroy its frame of reality. You need to fuse all your existences back into a single one."

His words seem to reach directly into my mind, although I have the feeling that I can also hear them with my ears. He seems to speak in what I got used to calling "the Eldorian language." However, despite understanding the meaning of each individual word, their combination turns into something unintelligible for my brain. Except for the last phrase, which I totally agree with. He used "we" in his phrases, so that means there have to be more angels like him that take care of this world.

"I think I don't really understand your words," I murmur in a low voice.

"I'm sorry, I had no intention to confuse you," says the Angel. "I shall rephrase what I have just said. The Island, how you and your people call it, is a location where another world from a place so far away that the human mind cannot comprehend is connected to Earth through a bridge. However, this bridge between the world here and yours has become more and more unstable lately. This chain of instability was amplified by your visit to this realm and caught you up in it, too. It has already made your body live in several parallel realities.

"You perceive your different existences as fragments that follow each other in succession, but the truth is that you live in all of them at the same time. Yet, if you can merge these three parallel lives back into a single one, the stability of the bridge can be restored. So, I have come to tell you how to do it. There are two things you need to achieve: one is talking to the Architect, and the other is finding the whirlpool. We cannot fix the recent anomalies from this world by ourselves, and therefore we need your help and cooperation."

"Who is the Architect?" I ask.

"Someone who helps this world to stay stable and who is very busy now, doing all he can to prevent it from falling apart."

"Is he an angel, like you?"

"No, he is different, but he doesn't have a physical presence in this world, either. That's all I can tell you about him."

"And how can I find the Architect? Why don't you contact him yourself instead of asking me to do it?"

"The growing instabilities from this world have separated me from the Architect and prevented any direct connection between us. However, you are in a different slice of space-time and can communicate with both him and me. Even so, my presence here is very feeble, that's why I can only talk to you in your dreams. Focus your mind on finding the Architect, try to feel his presence, think about the meaning of his work during your meditation."

"And the whirlpool? What is it? Am I going to discover a whirlpool somewhere in the water in each of my existences?"

"That's right, you will find a whirlpool in each of your existences. When you see it, you will recognize it."

"Then, if I find the whirlpool, what should I do next?"

"After you have talked to the Architect, go through the whirlpool to the other side. He will adjust all the gateways so that your different existences can become one again, fusing into a single reality. _Excelsior_ and your crew will be waiting for you beyond the crossing point."

The Angel is still there. I can feel his presence, but can't see or hear him anymore because in the meantime I have returned inside my body. I didn't even have time to thank him, so I do it now in a loud voice. I think he's got my message.

The sky above is full of stars. The constellations from the evening have been replaced by new ones. Near the horizon, I see swarms of meteors leaving shiny trails behind, shaking the gentle monotony of the night. As the Angel's presence fades away, I feel lost and alone as never before. I begin asking myself: what are God's plans for this place, and what's my part in them?

♣

_August 23_ — The warm rays of the Sun drag me out of my slumber. I have a sparing breakfast and begin searching for the whirlpool, unsure about what should I be paying attention to. Well, is there anything like a whirlpool on the beach, on this particular beach? Curiously, the sea level is the same as yesterday. Perhaps this world has no moon?

Maybe instead of searching for unusual things I should just build a raft and sail along the shore until I get back to my people? No, I can never reach _Excelsior_ this way. After a night spent here I already know for sure this is not Esyon, but a different world. Or perhaps I should replenish my supplies and return to Eldor along the path that brought me to this place? But can I cross back through the tunnel where the cave-in has happened? Probably not. I would have to climb the whole mountain, and this will take weeks...

In fact, it's most likely that even if I attempt to retrace my steps to the village, I shall never reach it, because I would still be trapped in this world. The more I think about it, the more obvious is that no other plan will work, except for the one suggested by the Angel. So, there is no alternative: I need to talk to the Architect. And for this, I'll have to sit down and meditate.

During the meditation, with my senses expanded, I try to focus my mind on my target, but I don't know who and what the Architect is. No one answers to my inquiries. The whole morning passes like this, then I take a break. At noon I'm pacing back and forth through the forest, tortured by doubts and fears.

In the early afternoon, the seagull look-alike birds return and begin fishing while shouting out loud random words. The shore is flooded by a cacophony of sounds. I hear a mix of "sea", "ocean", "fish", "sky", "table", "wood", "coconut", "fear", "fly", "sun", "rain", "house", "dear", "otherwise", "what", "good afternoon", "wait", "hurry", "death", "stars", "field". And the list continues almost without end. These birds seem to have an impressive memory. Maybe I could draw from their senseless mix of words the inspiration for what to do next? I decide to observe them for a while.

A seagull is preparing to dive into the water, shouting "Wire, wire!" Immediately, another one follows, answering "Water, rock, tree!". Both disappear in the waves and emerge a few yards farther, each with a fish in its beak. The scene goes on over and over again, with the words changing into: "sun, fly, water (again), chair." Then, a new series follows: "plant, sky, cloud, night." And so on, and so on...

No, their words don't make sense. I decide to spend three more days here, focusing on contacting the Architect and looking for the whirlpool. Then, if nothing happens, I shall head back to the mountains and try to return to Eldor. Perhaps I could cross again into Esyon somewhere along the way. Perhaps...

In the open seas, far away from the shore, I can see a group of six or seven whales feeding, or maybe just sleeping at the ocean's surface because they are not moving much. Their behavior looks unusual. Any cetaceans are supposed to spend most of their time underwater. Maybe it's a different species whose habits are different from those I'm familiar with. It's also very possible that their source of food is very close to the water surface. Their view reminds me to take care of replenishing my own food supplies.

I make a spear out of a thin and sturdy tree similar to a bamboo using my ax to cut the hollow staff at a narrow angle. Now I can go fishing. Then I plan to cook a nice fish meal on stones collected from the beach and heated in the fire.

After a short visual scan, I spot further to the north a rocky area that looks appropriate for testing my new tool. Unfortunately, the fish here are few and fast, so it takes a long time until I can finally catch one. I'm going to try my chances again at night, with a torch. I have forgotten to wind my watch yesterday, and it has stopped running. Watching the Sun disappearing beyond the tall mountain ridge and assuming it's summer here (the nights are visibly shorter than the days), I set it at 8 o'clock.

At dusk, I can still see the long shapes of the whales near the horizon. I try to count them and find out the pod has nine or ten cetaceans. Redoing the count a few minutes later, I conclude that their number has increased to twelve, then to fifteen. Something doesn't make sense. The newly arrived whales appear to be floating above the water, and they are becoming larger by the minute, too large even for the size of a big blue whale. No, these can't be whales.

The night is spreading out, and the first stars are already visible. My eyes remain fixed on the black shadows that are slowly approaching the shore. When they get closer, I realize some of them are the size of a hill, floating in the air about two hundred feet high. It's impossible to see them clearly in the dark, but they seem to be giant pieces of land pushed by the wind towards the coast. How can such heavy objects float like clouds, without reaching the ground, that remains a complete mystery for me.

Seated near my small campfire, I watch until late how the floating islands continue their movement towards the coast. They keep advancing until they are blocked by the cliffs and rocks that mark the shore north of the forest. Southwards, where the shoreline is not so steep, they slide deeper inland, disappearing into the darkness. For the moment, my location is spared.

Rumbling noises are echoing from the collision of the aerial blocks with the steep slopes and with each other. Once in a while, big stones fall on the ground. Around midnight, most of the stars disappear behind a dark veil, and I begin to hear the same noises above me. I pack up all my things as fast as I can and rush south, where the sky is clear. Being crushed to death by falling rocks is not something I have in my plans right now.

♣

_August 24_ — In the morning, a strange view appears where my camp used to be: the shore and the forest seem to be under the lid of a gigantic cave, with pieces of rock covered by grass and trees floating high in the air above it. The beach is scattered with fallen boulders, some of them more than three feet in diameter. Looking at the bright side of the situation, no more floating islands are coming. I decide to walk along the cliff to the spot they where it is in contact with them and see from a close distance what keeps these pieces of land in the air.

A circumventing route takes me high above the beach. About twenty minutes later, I arrive at the island edges. There is nothing unusual about the rocks and soil. However, any object separated from its island crashes immediately to the ground. Then, what is it that keeps everything high up? Perhaps a floating island must have a minimum diameter to stay in the air. Any smaller part is going to fall down.

Looking more carefully, I discover that all the floating pieces have either trees or grass. Supposedly the plants generate some sort of electricity or a special kind of magnetic field that can keep them away from the ground. Or, more likely, there is something hidden in the heart of each floating piece of land, keeping it in the air. Something buried deep in the center of the rocks and soil, but also connected to the plants. Some islands hovering above the beach are over three hundred feet wide, others are only fifteen-twenty feet in size.

Using such an island to travel far away from here is a tempting idea, but I'd have no means to control it under the unpredictable direction of the blowing winds. Therefore, I'd have no way to know the next destination, not to mention the fact that they cannot lift me over any mountains. I spend a few more minutes examining these unusual objects. Maybe the whirlpool the Angel was talking about is here. My eyes are combing the new landscape while I continue to walk on a line parallel with the aerial blocks. Nevertheless, I find nothing else to draw my attention and resolve to explore the southern shore for the rest of the day.

With all my possessions, I walk south for a couple of miles along the ocean's edge. Everything is deserted, only a few seagulls are fishing in the waves, shouting random words with nearly human voices. As I continue my trek, I can see how, after a relatively flat area, the mountain range is coming even closer to the ocean.

Many dark rocks mark the coast here, giving it an unfriendly appearance. I climb one of them for a better view. All the way farther south I can see the same uneven landscape, without trees or traces of human settlements. Several small lakes are visible a little farther away, most of them apparently connected to the sea.

I use the afternoon to catch fish and succeed in spearing two herrings (or something similar to herrings, anyway) for my dinner. Then I sit on a flat stone and meditate. My expanded senses tell me that the whirlpool is nearby. Still, I can't go beyond the limits of my ego, and I don't hear in my mind the Architect's voice. Was he the person who warned me about the snowstorm in the mountains? Was he the one who showed me how to meditate? I shan't get any answers to these questions until I hear that voice in my head one more time.

After sunset, I look again for the Moon, but can't find it anywhere in the sky. Yet, I don't remember seeing any big tide during the last two days, so maybe there is no moon in this world, after all. Checking my pocket watch, it seems the Sun has set today at 9 p.m. Probably this world's day is about one hour longer than the standard day, like Nosyon's day.

In the evening, my water supplies are almost depleted. Pushed by thirst, I make up my mind to risk a trip under the floating islands and refill my water skin from the spring there. I shall also take some firewood for my new camp, now moved to the safer part of the coast south of the forest.

It is late night when I return. I take a torch and look for fish near the shore, in a few of the natural pools located further to the south. I hear many splashing sounds coming from one of the water basins and decide to try my chances there. With the torch in one hand and the spear in the other, I come close to the liquid surface. Every time I see a dark shadow moving beneath, I strike.

In less than half an hour, I have already caught three big fish, similar to cod. Preparing to leave and get some rest, I take a last look at the small lake. A strange light radiates from inside. What could be hidden so deep underwater? I shall try to investigate it more carefully tomorrow. Even though there seems to be no moon, the water level appears to be slowly rising.

My initial plan was to sleep again on the beach, but I begin to hear the sound of thunder at regular intervals while whips of lightning bolts crisscross the dark sky near the horizon hidden in darkness. The best choice is to find a sheltered area in the vicinity a big rock and set up my tent there. Deeper inland and about sixty feet above the ocean level, a stone platform seems the ideal location. It is also high enough to avoid any unpleasant surprise from a possible tide generated by the storm. Barely inside the tent, the rain begins pouring violently. Thinking about what to do tomorrow, I plunge into a dreamless slumber.

♣

_August 25_ — I wake up at dawn trembling from cold and lying down in a puddle of water. Everything inside the tent is wet! Terrified, I get out and find the ocean waves already biting from the platform where I had set up my shelter last night. The water level is more than sixty feet higher now! Working with all the speed given by desperation and with my knees surrounded by foamy eddies, I grab all my possessions and rush to higher ground.

This is utterly surprising. There was no moon, no tide for almost three days, and now, suddenly, the ocean level is rising fast. Is it possible that the continent itself is submerging? Yet, how could this happen without even a trace of an earthquake? Clouds and rain are gone, the sky is clear now, there are only a few minutes until sunrise.

I climb to another plateau, located about forty feet higher. From there, I look around for clues but discover nothing unusual. However, when I turn my eyes east, I finally see what caused the ocean's invasion. A narrow moon crescent of colossal size, with a diameter about ten times larger than the one from Earth, is mercilessly floating above the horizon.

Even though it's already daylight, some craters near its terminator are still clearly visible. It takes me a few minutes to understand what happened, going back to my knowledge of universal attraction between celestial bodies, discovered more than a century ago by Isaac Newton.

This moon is much closer and revolves around this world much faster. Its movement has almost the same speed and direction as the planet's rotation. For this reason, it stays for a long time above the same hemisphere, rising and setting not daily, but once every few days. That explains the extended interval between tides and their magnitude. Below, the ocean level keeps on climbing. It's not only the proximity of this moon but also the slowness of its movement that gives the water enough time to flow towards this place.

During the next few hours, the water level goes up by another thirty feet, albeit at a slower pace. Then it stays almost stable for the rest of the day, with a rise that will probably add at most twelve or fifteen feet until evening. With such a low angular velocity, I expect to see this moon in the sky for at least another two sunrises. The beach is gone. So is the forest, and with it my supply of spring water, fruits, and firewood. The floating islands are gone too. They must have risen higher under the moon's gravitational pull and were most likely pushed away by the winds to another, unknown location.

My only option is to look now for fresh water that springs from higher ground and do some fishing during the rest of the day. I'm fortunate to have succeeded in saving all my equipment, even though some of it got wet. The fruits and fish from my backpack should help me survive for at least two more days. The waterskin is half full and will help me get by without suffering too much from thirst until tomorrow.

During the afternoon, I spend a couple of hours looking for another stream of fresh water. Finally, I find an almost invisible trickle on the cliff above the submerged forest area, well hidden behind thick blades of rough grass. The fishing is not so good. I can barely catch a small herring after (or, anyway, something looking like a herring). Due to the lack of wood and fire, I shall have to eat it raw anyway..

The most curious thing is to see the giant moon changing phases as the day progresses, as the Sun is moving much faster by its side. At dusk (now I'm sure the day is longer here by about one hour and ten minutes), when the Sun sets, the Moon is in a waxing phase, and I expect to see it fully illuminated late at night. It may also suffer a total or partial eclipse, disappearing into the planet's shadow.

I didn't meditate today, and I'm too tired to do it now. Therefore I try to get some sleep on a semicircular platform high above the swollen ocean waters, where I have set up my tent during the late afternoon. The Moon is now so bright that I can even write or read outside, almost like during a dark afternoon on Earth, when the sky is covered by thick clouds.

It is the end of my fourth day in this world (or the third day on this deserted shore), and I still have no idea how to return to _Excelsior_. I've changed my mind about going back to the mountains if I don't find the whirlpool and shall wait here at least until the next low tide. Sooner or later I think I'm going to wake up into one of my other lives. All the same, I'm a prisoner in each of them. I feel as if each of these three worlds, from a strange self-preservation instinct, has extended dark tentacles to grab and stop me from moving around until I fuse my existences together and bring back this whole corner of the Universe into its previous state of harmony.

I really need to talk to the Architect, I'll have to find him so I can get out of this mess. Then I need to find the whirlpool. However, what am I going to do if it is hidden underwater? Maybe this place has something to do with the strange light I could see the other night inside the small lake among the rocks when I went fishing? I shall investigate that area more carefully at the next low tide.

I gaze at the endless waters of the ocean, wondering what mysterious shores lie behind its dark horizon. It is a calm night and, under the red shadows of the clouds, the aquatic kingdom appears to have an almost glassy consistency. Suddenly, I see a ship passing by in the bright moonlight, perhaps only half a mile away. It resembles a galleon from the 15th century and cuts the waves quickly, with all her sails up! Here I am, alone, and I have no fire to make myself noticed.

After all, there really are people living in this world! Shouting as loud as I can, I take my shirt off and wave it with all my power, jumping up and down on the rocky shore. But I'm too far away to be seen or heard. Soon, the vessel fades away to the south. Then, for the first time since I've got separated from my crew, I sob like a child until the world of dreams takes over and spares me from my suffering for the next few hours.

### pi

I can't hear the sea waves anymore when I wake up. I push my body into a sitting position and look around. During the sleep, I must have transcended again into one of my other existences/dreams. The arched ceiling of the big cavern is shining above me like a church dome. I check my log and the signs scribbled on the nearby wall to count the slow passing of the days. My last dated note is from June 27. Another two undated notes follow. However, based on the daily dates scratched in the stone near the place where I usually sleep, it seems today is already July 25.

Where is the Architect, where is the whirlpool? Should this whirlpool be necessarily associated with water? I investigate carefully once more the lake in the center of the large hall and the hot spring bath. There doesn't seem to be anything unusual about them. The water is clear, and I can see all the way to the basin's bottom. No passages out are visible.

I don't remember seeing a water source in the first cave, nor in the second. Only the third, the farthest and hardest to reach had that unusual deep well, and I have only visited it once. So, in this case, how do the trees from the cavern of the Winged Master survive? What about him? Does he ever drink water? Perhaps the fruits are enough to keep him alive? It doesn't matter now, I need to focus on finding the whirlpool.

Now, as I'm thinking about the trip to the third cavern, I realize I haven't even tried to drop a stone in the well. And why not? Because it would sink to the bottom? Is there any way I can find out how deep the well is? How to see what's going on there? Immediately, a new idea comes through my mind. That's true, you can't see how deep an ordinary stone can sink. However, a light-emitting stalagmite should be visible until it goes down quite deep.

My jaw drops from the simplicity of the solution: all I need to do is throw several pieces of luminescent stalagmites and check in the clear water the shape and depth of the well! If it suggests the existence of an underwater passage, I can spend a few weeks carving small steps in the vertical walls of the pit and try my chances by diving in and swimming out of this underground world! In case the exit looks too far away, I can climb back into the cavern.

There is nothing else to eat in this place but white mushrooms. This type of diet is not helping me stay in my best shape. Even though I could survive for months here, I might lose a lot of weight in the end and become sick from lack of fresh vegetables, cereals, milk, eggs, fish and even meat. Of course, I still have several fruits from the Winged Master, taken during my last visit to his cave a week ago, but even so, I wonder if I can live like this for long. On second thought, how do I know these fruits are real? Maybe it's only my mind that has been set up to see them as fruits? I examine them again, more carefully, and they quickly turn into stones!

Almost in shock after the scene I have just witnessed, I wonder what did I pick and eat all this time from inside the Winged Master's cave? Were they fruits, or stones? Did my stomach digest them as fruits only because I believed them to be fruits? Then, how can reality be defined? Is it something that exists independently of us or is it shaped every moment by our mind's work?

I stand up and resolve to investigate the third cave again. There is no point in wasting any more time. I take with me several fragments of luminous stalagmites, all my possessions, as many mushrooms as I can carry, and get ready for my long trip through the third gallery.

♣

I pay a final courtesy visit to the Winged Master and tell him about my plan to check the well. He refuses my invitation to come along to the third cave. When I ask him if I should come back in case I find a way out, he answers:

"I can't swim and would quickly drown if I tried to pass through an underwater tunnel. If you discover a way out, it means your departure time has come. Go ahead and leave this underground maze of caves if you can, don't mind me. For the last two weeks, I kept seeing fragments of the future during my meditation sessions. I saw you find an exit, and then I saw myself getting out of here only a few months later. Something tells me we shall meet again in the other world. Just don't expect my face and body to look like this. I'll be a human being, like you."

"In case I don't come back and succeed in returning to Esyon, please accept my warmest thanks for your help during my time spent in here," I say. "If it's not too much trouble, can you tell me your name?" I add, after a short pause.

"You shall hear it when we meet again," comes the Winged Master's reply, with a smile I can't see, but I can feel. "By the way, aren't you going to pick up a few fruits for your trip, as you usually do at the end of your visits?"

"I'm afraid I shan't be able to eat them anymore," I answer, also smiling. "I have discovered their true nature. Your fruits are just stones."

As soon as I say this, the trees from the cave become large stalagmites. The ceiling darkens to a level of luminosity comparable to the cavern with the lake where I've spent more than a month. The golden pillar where the Winged Master is seated turns into a simple stone pedestal.

"Good," I hear his voice in my mind again. "This means you are beginning to see the things as they really are. Then, you seem truly ready to return to Esyon. I wish you farewell, my friend, and a good journey back to the world above."

I venture with a final question:

"Sir, have you ever left this cave?"

"What do you think?" he counters while his telepathic smile broadens. "Please come closer and look at me carefully."

I step all the way until I touch the tall column of stone and lift my gaze towards the Winged Master. The statue of a creature with wings is placed on top of the massive block, meditating, motionless. However, there is life inside it, and I hear the same voice, speaking again in my mind:

"Now, you know. You can finally see this place the way it really is. Go in peace, Alberto, return to your crew and bring your love back to Esyon. It was a pleasure meeting you and talking to you. Stay strong and healthy until we meet again."

"Are you really a statue?" I add a final question, but no one replies.

Perhaps I have dreamed all the dialogues with the Winged Master, including the fruits I thought I've eaten during this time? I take a walk around the spacious cave but find nothing besides stones and large stalagmites. No water, no hidden exits. It doesn't matter anymore. From here, I'm going straight through the third gallery to look for the whirlpool and, with God's help, I might be soon out of here.

I wave my hand in a farewell gesture towards my friend wrapped in stillness and leave his cavern.

♣

After the expected three hours of walking, I finally reach the cavern. I approach the well and gaze towards its bottom. This time I have the feeling that there is more than just my light reflection coming from the deep. Putting the stalagmite-torch aside, I wait for my eyes to become accustomed to the dark and stare down for a longer time.

A weak luminous source seems to be floating down there. But how can this be happening? Perhaps some tiny organisms that radiate light are living in the deep water of the well? This is an encouraging thought. Maybe these creatures are similar to those found in the oceans, and they came from outside through an underwater passage. But is this passage short enough to be crossed by a human being who can't swim as fast as a fish and can't breathe underwater?

The next move is to throw down a luminous stalagmite while attempting to glimpse what its light would reveal before fading away. The fragment of stone slides into the deep and seems to halt after it has descended about ten yards. It appears to float inside an area larger than the well, behaving as if the water below is heavier, pushing the stone upwards. I continue to stare at it in amazement. Then, after a few more minutes, the piece of rock is slowly carried away by a current and disappears from my view. A second stalagmite has the same fate. I can't explain this unusual phenomenon. Stones are not supposed to float in water, yet they do exactly this thing in here.

I watch the well for the whole afternoon, most of the time in darkness, and try to get a good view of the bottom. Yet I can't clearly see what's beyond the area where the pieces of stalagmite stop and float for a while. If this weren't a totally absurd idea, I should say that the bottom is actually the water surface from an upside-down world, and the mysterious bright source is nothing else but the daylight from the other side.

I decide to spend the night next to the well. I shall continue to observe it today, tomorrow, and the following days until I find an explanation of the mystery. If I understand what is going on, I might just be able to escape from my prison.

The evening is spent in meditation, with the hope that my expanded senses might give me an answer. I continue to have this strange feeling that there is another world, upside down, on the other side of the well. When the fatigue takes over, I resolve to let a good night of sleep clear my mind of all these crazy thoughts. I shall think again about a solution after I wake up.

### rho

After a night haunted by blurred dreams, I find myself lying down in a large bed. The bed is placed in the middle of a spacious room with a blue, arched ceiling. A red sun is just rising into the clear sky above a fuzzy mountain ridge. Nivit is sleeping next to me with a smile on her face, and my wings feel numb.

It takes me another two or three seconds to process the fact that I'm again in Nosyon. Maybe here I can come across a way to talk to the Architect, or I can finally discover where the mysterious whirlpool is hidden. One by one, the memories from this life/dream/world come back to me. I haven't written anything in my log lately, but I know that today's date is September 20.

Nosyon doesn't have seasons. The climate is warm and comfortable in the valleys all year around, in spite of the surrounding mountain peaks covered by snow. We leaved the Guest House and moved to live here a few weeks ago. A clerk from the City Council told us that this property belonged to someone who had crossed over recently, and we could use the house for as long as we wanted.

The building had useable furniture and clothes, even a few old books about Nosyon's geography. It was also spacious, with two floors and ten rooms. In our new home, we found all we needed for a simple but comfortable life. Now we are the only people who live in this area that borders the city's edge. A beautiful garden in the backyard also provides us with fruits and vegetables. We are surrounded by trees and flowers.

Nivit doesn't work in the hospital anymore. She opened a small medical office in one of the chambers from the ground floor. I continue to publish stories about Earth in the local newspaper while working on a second book about the geography of my world. We both meditate every day and train our minds to become more sensitive to everything that surrounds us, learning how to expand them beyond our ordinary range of perception. So far, we haven't discovered anything unusual that could lead us out of here. Yet, as time passes, our concentration power continues to increase, and this fuels our hopes for a better future.

We used to talk for long hours about how I had arrived in Nosyon. My opinion was that I didn't actually die, but entered a state that allowed me to cross over with my vital energy at a high level. Yet, Nivit thought otherwise: she believed that my naked body had shut itself down during the process and actually died. As I hadn't awakened in Esyon anymore, I thought she might be right. I began to believe that I was probably as dead as her inside the other world. Or so things seemed until now.

However, since I woke up here again a few minutes ago, I know that our perspective about this realm is about to change. I have transcended into a third life/dream where I found in the cave my cocoon, our tent, and our backpacks. I know I'm not dead because I live another life there, an existence that has never been interrupted. As I am shaken by these new thoughts, Nivit also wakes up and looks at me intently. Her beautiful eyes, bathed in the warm rays of the dawn, reflect the bright red disc of the Nosyonian sun.

"Nivit, you have to listen to what I have just learned," I say. "A new existence has opened for me inside the cave where the blizzard caught us."

Then I tell her about my newest adventures there, where I have crossed into another, unknown world. I describe in detail what the Angel has told me, my encounters with the talking birds, the flying islands, and the huge moon. Nivit listens without ever interrupting me. When I tell her about the whirlpool, she raises her eyebrows slightly and replies:

"In this place, the whirlpool has to be The Grand Stream."

♣

A long time ago, a man from Verin wanted to study in detail the geography of this realm. He investigated the possibility of using a machine that could take a person up in the air higher than any wings could do. With it, he was planning to make extensive observations of the land below. To fly that high he needed to understand better this world's atmosphere. The ninety-two years he lived in Nosyon before crossing back were long enough for two important discoveries.

His first breakthrough came from recalling that a paper bag filled with hot air can lift a small weight attached to it. Using pieces of canvas covered with a thin layer of glue to make it airtight, the researcher built and tested many types of balloon models. He wanted to use such a balloon to lift him above any height than his wings could ever take him.

As the atmosphere's density decreases with altitude, someone from Nosyon can only fly up to about ten thousand feet. There, the air is too thin, and the wings can't displace enough of it to maintain a constant height above the ground. Of course, people in my world have already flown in hot air balloons. Such an event occurred in France twelve years ago when the Montgolfier brothers soared in the air for the first time in our documented history. Even so, many scholars think that other such flights might have taken place in Europe, Asia or America much earlier, perhaps even during Antiquity.

Using what he had learned from the test models, the scientist worked for several months to build an airship that could lift his body much higher than anyone would ever dream of flying. It was a big globe of airtight canvas, tied with a net of ropes to a sturdy basket made of intertwined willow twigs, or, in any case, a local tree very similar to a willow. He also designed a long metal pipe to carry the hot air from a fire lit on the ground and fill up the balloon.

And so, on a sunny morning, he soared towards the sky under the curious gaze of several hundred Nosyonians. The balloon rose to a height of about five thousand feet. Some minutes later, it started descending again because the air inside was already cooling. The inventor realized that he needed to keep the air hot for a longer time by bringing a fire with him.

For the following two years, he tried several designs for an airship with a portable stove, each of them soaring a little higher than the previous. The first attempt used ordinary wood. The wood was difficult to keep burning but could lift the balloon to over eight thousand feet and maintain the altitude for more than thirty minutes. However, bad luck struck him during descent, when, at about one thousand feet high, a spark from the fire used for heating the air inside touched one of the supporting ropes and set it alight. Thin, long flames spread immediately, like hungry snakes, to the basket and then to the balloon itself.

The bold explorer had no other choice but to jump out and use his wings to return safely back to the ground. His airship, now a giant torch, fell into a lake, a few miles away from Verin. The three following models used coal in a metal box suspended with wires above the basket. After several more tests, he finally found a working formula that avoided the danger of accidentally setting on fire the fabric from above.

The day when the scientist started his new attempt to reach a high altitude with the new, improved craft, thousands of Nosyonians came to watch him. It was a beautiful day with a clear sky. A few dozen people even flew in circles around the slowly rising airship. However, as the altitude increased and the air became thinner, they were all left behind, one by one. On the other hand, our researcher could just relax in the square basket tied underneath the balloon and enjoy the view.

The explorer used a simple and ingenious device to measure the atmosphere's pressure. It was made of a U-shaped tube with the central area filled with a colored liquid and having one of the ends closed tightly with a cap. When the outside pressure was identical with the pressure inside the closed branch of the "U," the liquid stayed in the middle. If the pressure dropped, the denser air from the closed side would push up the liquid column from the open side of the tube. The difference in height between the two sides would indicate the relative pressure change.

A few trips to the mountains nearby, at heights of up to ten thousand feet, helped him calibrate the device. Based on his observations, he assumed an almost linear correspondence for higher altitudes and used this simple instrument to estimate his own distance from the ground.

When the balloon reached an altitude of about thirteen thousand feet, his own breathing became more difficult. Adding pieces of coal to the fire and pumping in more air with a set of bellows to help it burn, he continued to rise slowly. At sixteen thousand feet, the inventor began to feel weak and dizzy. A tiny stream of blood was flowing now from his nose. Fearing for his safety, he decided not to go any higher.

Despite his poor physical condition, the scientist maintained the balloon's altitude for as long as he has wood. He spent the afternoon looking at what was above and below the airship and writing detailed notes of what he saw. The explorer also knew that an eye in the sky must be nearby and wanted to investigate it at a closer distance.

Investigating in detail the part of the sky he could see (not hidden by the balloon from above), he glimpsed, maybe about fifteen hundred feet higher than his observation point, the shape of a whirlwind. It was barely visible, even from such a close distance, although it appeared to be quite large, perhaps one hundred and fifty feet in diameter. The surrounding air had a darker tint and was being pulled inside on a spiral trajectory. This hole in the sky, a few miles north of Verin, seemed to connect to a place beyond this world. The scientist called it The Grand Stream and carefully wrote all these observations in his log during the flight.

Do all the eyes in the sky have such an air stream in the center? And do all these "grand streams" pull the air towards them? Maybe some are working in the opposite direction and bring in here the atmosphere from the sky of another world? And are they really crossing points to a different world? The scholar planned to build a better airship and inspect the vortex at a closer distance in a future exploration trip. This was his second important finding.

Late afternoon, threatening clouds appeared above and below him. It was time to return home. Unfortunately, during the descent, the eccentric adventurer was caught by the incoming thunderstorm. The balloon was dragged down by strong winds that prevented any escape and smashed it with force against a mountain ridge, killing its passenger instantly.

A week later, the remains of the man and his flying machine were found by a flier-by. His log was also found at the crash site. Nobody has tried to fly so high again since this tragic accident, by balloon or by another means. The log was published in newspapers in many cities, stirring for some time public debates about the Grand Stream's nature. It became later a chapter in a little book of curiosities that Nivit and I had the chance to read in the library from Verin.

From the way he died, it's likely that the scientist has emerged in Esyon as an inferior life form, perhaps reappearing over there in the middle of its extended underground maze. Or, who knows, maybe his energy was high enough after so many years of living in Nosyon, and he was born again among people. We'll never know what really happened. In any case, we ought to remember him and his achievements for future generations. His name was Aleon.

♣

"So, you think the Grand Stream may be a way out of here that would avoid the typical crossing over," I say, turning to Nivit.

"That's what I believe," she responds. "You asked for a whirlpool. This is the most obvious one."

"A gateway to another realm, where we don't know what's on the other side..."

"There is only one way to find out," she adds, raising her eyebrows slightly.

"And what if it doesn't cross into Esyon?"

"We simply come back to the ground, even if we need to jump out of the balloon. We can let our bodies fall for a few thousand feet, then begin to use our wings and control the descent speed in the denser air below. If we are more careful about the weather than Aleon was, there should be no problem to land safely."

Her plan is cunning. It could mean our successful escape from Nosyon. However, on second thought, I can't be sure what will happen to Nivit or even to me during the crossing in case we succeed to go through. I'm worried we might turn into inferior creatures if the passing takes us back to Esyon. Or, who knows, we might get lost forever inside a new, unknown world. Yet, I came here without dying on Esyon and feel confident the transformation and memory loss is not going to affect me when I go back. If I can go back this way.

I tell Nivit about my fears. Her smile fades into a preoccupied expression. How can we make sure it's safe for her to cross back this way? However, before we get to that, we still can build a balloon and attempt a few trips at high altitude to see for ourselves if the Grand Stream exists for real. In the meantime, perhaps we can also find a different method to cross back to Esyon.

"Nivit!" I say, "Maybe there is another way to cross over."

"Really? I'm curious to hear it!"

"You know that in the other reality I was helped to cross into Nosyon during my dream by that strange woman whom I began to call later the Lady in Green. She was living inside this world, I could see this red sun in the sky. Her long robe hid her wings well, in case she had them, or perhaps I saw her differently because I was dreaming. Her residence was inside a castle from an isolated area. Maybe we can find it if we explore this land in more detail. We could even use the balloon for that, taking more food provisions for a long trip and letting the wind carry us."

Nivit already is well acquainted with the story from me, as I've told it many times. She frowns slightly and turns face up with the hands under her head, looking at the ceiling.

"The Lady in Green could somehow cross over inside the dreams of other people, but could not manifest herself in the real world," comes her reply. "And her crossing point seemed to only reach into the underground network from Esyon, which is not a place where we should want to end up."

I have to agree with Nivit. Even if we find the Lady in Green, she is not likely to be of much help. For the time being, our only hope is the Grand Stream. We shall search for the mysterious woman only if the plan with the balloon flight fails.

♣

The weeks pass slowly. Sunrises and sunsets follow each other between work and rest. Because our airship needs to carry two people, it has to be quite large. We have only some general information about how to build a balloon, all coming from Aleon's notes still available in the city's library. Not many technical details are written there, so I shall need to redo some of his experiments myself.

Day after day, I build small balloon models, fill them with hot air, measure their lifting power, and do calculations again and again until I'm confident I know the right size of a canvas globe that could easily lift a weight four-five times greater than mine and Nivit's combined. I've also found out that a vent on top might be useful to increase the descent rate if needed. It could be opened or closed through some long ropes that would be connected to the canvas edge.

When it is already mid-October (based on my approximate calendar and the additional day inserted every 24 local days), the building of our airship is steadily progressing. We both work day and night to make it ready for the trip as soon as possible. We have dyed the ballon's canvas black, to help it heat up even more from the sunrays. In this case, we are going to need less fuel to keep it hot on a sunny day.

Our relative isolation keeps other people from noticing our preparations. Nobody else knows about our plans. Everyone believes we are doing some extensive changes to the house. The last thing to be built is the basket hanging underneath that will carry the passengers. It should support a coal stove and the weight of two people, plus some food and water provisions. Nivit comes with the idea of making it capable of floating, for situations when we have an unexpected problem and our flight ends on a lake. I agree with her and cover the wattled passenger box with thin pieces of leather sewn tightly. To make them watertight, I spread a thin layer of glue on their surface and sewing areas, then I attach on top of it overlapping stripes of canvas. The rectangular box can float now like a boat.

I build a "U" shaped device to measure the air pressure, similar to the one used by Aleon in his balloon trips. It takes a few days to visit the nearby mountains to check the liquid height difference at well-known altitudes and calibrate it properly.

On October 20, our balloon is finally ready to fly. After carefully checking the sky for bad weather and making almost sure we shan't encounter any of it, we fill the passenger basket with provisions, warm clothes, and coal. We finish the preparations in the evening. We intend to go for an early launch, at least one hour before sunrise. This way, we can avoid drawing any unwanted attention. Tomorrow we shall investigate the Grand Stream, this hole in the sky not so far away from our city. I have the feeling that if we fly high enough the wind is going to carry us towards it. What to do about crossing on the other side will be decided on our next expedition.

♣

_October 21 —_ It's still dark when the coal fire from the stove begins filling the balloon's dark globe with hot air. The process is slow and cumbersome. A few times, we come very close to igniting the canvas and its canopy. However, a few buckets of water promptly poured over it prevent any fire from starting. In the end, everything goes well. A black sphere is floating now in the air above our home.

Soon we are both inside the basket, Nivit unties the ropes that keep us to the ground, and we begin our slow ascent towards the Grand Stream. At dawn, our altitude has already reached seven thousand feet. There is no wind, and we are rising almost vertically. I suppose some people from Verin have just seen our balloon now, but we are already too high for anyone to catch up with us.

Towards the west, we watch for a few minutes a lone dragon flying with gracious, snake-like movements. I never had the chance to see any of them from close range, not even when they were circling around _Excelsior_. I think nobody else has ever come near them. The dragons always travel really high in this realm and seem to avoid any human presence. Nobody knows where they come from and where they go. Even this one is too high, too far away, and I can't clearly see its body.

As the altitude increases, we come near a large flock of white birds that are flying south. In the meantime, the temperature drops significantly. We put on warm clothes and come close to each other. The altimeter shows that we are now over eleven thousand feet above the ground. I throw more lumps of coal into the fire, and our ascending speed increases. Once in a while, we take turns using a set of bellows to pump more air into the stove and keep the fire going. For some unknown reason, I become dizzy and need to lie down. Before I lose my consciousness, I see above me the worried face of Nivit leaning closer and feel her soft fingers touching my forehead.

### sigma

When I open my eyes again, the balloon's dark canvas seems to surround me completely. I can hear the sound of the waves hitting the shore. My view is blurred, and everything I try to look at is engulfed by a thick fog.

Still dizzy, I manage to articulate:

"Nivit, did something go wrong with our balloon? How come we are so quickly back on the ground? Have we landed near a lake?"

No answer.

"Nivit? Where are you?"

No answer.

With some difficulty, I lift myself to a sitting position. My eyes can see better now, and I find out immediately that the thing surrounding my body is actually the tent's canvas and not the balloon's outer layer. It has just happened again. I was thrown into another dream/life/reality or whatever other name fits it.

The memories of my existence here return one by one, and I recall the lake among the rocks, the forest near the shore, the talking birds, the Angel, the giant tide, the huge moon, and the ship sailing by. So, today's date has to be August 26, or something close to it, anyway. It's dawn, and the waning Moon crescent is hovering in the sky, way past the zenith. The water level is still as high as it was last night. All I can do is eat what's left in my backpack and wait for the Moon to set. This situation is going to last probably until tomorrow night, or even longer. Then, when the tide is low, and the sandy beach is visible again, I plan to go back to the lake among the rocks, to the place where I've spotted the unusual light.

I spend the whole day doing calisthenics and meditating. This time, one's senses seem to expand faster and farther away. One feels there is an exit nearby, one only needs to pinpoint it more accurately. At dusk, one begins to sense someone else's thoughts inside one's head. First, it's more like a vague impression, but this impression becomes gradually stronger and louder until one perceives a voice saying:

"Hello. I'm glad I could finally connect with you again."

"Are you the Architect?" one asks without any other introductory remarks.

"You can call me by this name," replies the voice.

"Are you the one who warned me about the snowstorm in the mountains?"

"Yes, I am. But it was already too late to change anything, and then I lost contact with you."

"You know, we could not avoid it. At the last moment, we managed to find shelter in a cave. However, it soon became so cold that it was a hard struggle to stay alive even there. Nivit could not survive the low temperature and soon crossed over into Nosyon. In another reality/life/dream, I have followed onto her footsteps a couple of weeks later. I don't know why I seem to exist now in three different places at once. Are you also the one who showed me how to meditate?"

"No, I haven't shown you anything. Has someone introduced you to meditation? That's good, it should definitely help you get out of here faster."

"As you might already know, this world is out of balance," continues the voice after a short pause. "It wasn't very stable, to begin with, because it was/is a work in progress. Even so, the unexpected events generated by the arrival of your ship here and the conflict that resulted from the cultural differences between you and the locals affected its equilibrium even more. The laws of causality stopped working in a few locations. The local line of the Universe lost its integrity and, as a consequence, your existence split into several parallel realities. Right now, even as we speak, this realm is becoming even more unstable."

"The Angel told me to look for your help. I have been trying to find you for several days already," one says.

The voice remains silent for a few moments. One feels how the surprise is engulfing the Architect's thoughts, like a cocoon made of white, soft silk.

"The Angel? Who is the Angel?"

"An entity made entirely of pure light talked to me in my dream, four days ago. This is how I found about the whirlpool and about you."

One senses even more surprise from the Architect. After a long silence, the voice continues:

"I suppose neither you nor I have any idea who the Angel is. However, it's a relief to know that someone else wants to help fix our world, too."

This is a bit odd. The Angel knows about the Architect, but the Architect hasn't heard about the Angel. Perhaps all those broken causality laws are causing more and more confusion in this world. Nevermind, one should focus now on finding a solution to one's problem, not on looking for a comprehensive description of the situation. There is plenty of time for that later.

"Then, what is going to happen here, what is going to happen to me? What should I do?" come one's questions, one after another.

"If you don't cross through the whirlpool soon, the breaking of causality laws will continue to expand until it reaches the whole world. For a while, your existences will continue to split into more and more realities. You are going to find yourself living an increasing number of parallel lives. After some time, the same thing will start happening to other individuals. When causality has broken up over a large part of this world, objects, animals, and people will begin to transform into pure light, fading away soon after that.

"In the end, this light is going to swallow and dissolve everything, until this whole part of the Universe disappears into oblivion: Esyon, Nosyon, and Teryon, the realm where you are right now, plus all the other worlds that are connected to them. They are all going to be affected and ultimately destroyed by the failure of the causality laws."

One wonders how many other worlds exist here, besides the three one had the chance to see, but prefers to leave this question for another occasion.

"In this case, I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible and help everything else become stable again. Do you know where the whirlpool is?"

"You have guessed correctly: the whirlpool is inside the lake near the shore. You can pass through it two days from now, during the low tide. The light coming from deep below is the water surface of Esyon, which appears upside down as seen from here. You should also know that you have already come close to the crossing points in all your three existences.

"Shall my three existences become one again after I do the crossing?"

"That's what we hope to see happening. When you cross, I shall adjust space and time in those locations so that your parallel lives fuse back together into a single one."

"Then, which one will be the right one? Into what existence am I going to cross?"

"It will be one of them, I don't know which one. And, if all your separate lives connect again into a single one, does it really matter?"

"Of course it does," one says, full of anxiety. "There is one Nivit in one world and a different one in the other..."

But the Architect is already gone. I have lost the mind-to-mind connection.

No matter how hard I keep trying, I can't hear his voice anymore. I return to reality and begin to think about how to cross back into Esyon.

The pale light visible inside the lake on the shore was about sixty feet deep. Even for a good diver, this is not an easy task. However, if the other side connects to the surface, I only need to reach the middle and let the water do the rest of the work, lifting me into Esyon. A large boulder held in my arms should help me dive quickly, dragging me probably beyond the midpoint. If this doesn't work from the first attempt, I can try it again until I succeed. There is nothing else to do for the time being but wait for the low tide. And now I'm also left to wonder who has saved my life inside the cave, showing me how to meditate and win the hard battle against the terrifying cold.

♣

_August 28_ — A cloudy morning is waiting for me. The Moon is gone from the sky, and the tide is low. The lake among the rocks (completely under water two days ago) is now separated from the Ocean. I can see a shimmer of light again deep inside. First, I take a big stone and throw it into the clear water. It goes down to about twenty feet, then stops and slides slowly to the side until it disappears from my view. I have already seen this happening in the cave well, in one of my other parallel lives.

Anyhow, there is nothing to lose. I shall take a large boulder and dive as deep as I can, holding it tight until my descent halts. Then I'm going to swim deeper and let the water lift me towards the other side as soon as I've crossed the boundary between these two worlds. If this doesn't happen, I can return to the starting point and try again.

I pack up all my belongings and fit them inside my backpack. Then I bind it to a heavy stone. I'm going to grab the bag and let the boulder tied to it pull me down inside the lake, all the way to the neutral depth, probably a foot or so beyond it. When I reach that depth, I shall cut the rope that holds the boulder and let the water push me towards the surface from the other side.

♣

One moment ago I was bending to take in my arms a boulder from the ground, and the next thing I see is Nivit's worried face and a large, black, bulky canvas behind her. The air feels thin and cold. I realize I'm again in the balloon, high above the ground, inside Nosyon.

"For how long have I lost consciousness?" I ask her.

"Only for a few moments," she replies in a low voice. "I'm glad you've recovered so quickly."

I breathe out:

"I woke up into the third world and talked to the Architect during meditation. I lived there for almost three days."

It takes me a couple of minutes to describe what happened during my other existence. Nivit nods quietly when I tell her she was right about the whirlpool.

"Then, what are we going to do? Shall we try to cross the Grand Stream now with the balloon instead of just observing it?" I ask her.

"I'd rather do that now than come back for a second time. I don't think I'm going to transform into an inferior form of life. However, even if I do, I'm sure you can help me change back into myself. I know that you will find me again, no matter where I might disappear."

We add more coal to the stove and continue our ascent, holding each other's hands tightly. The air is becoming even colder and thinner. We both breathe now with some difficulty, feeling weak and dizzy. Besides heating the air inside the balloon, the stove is also useful to keep us relatively warm so high above the ground. Our estimated altitude has already passed sixteen thousand feet. Leaning backward, we stare most of the time at the blue sky above, as much as the bulky shape of the balloon allows us to do so.

I think it's about noon now. My pocket watch confirms my assumption. As seen from here, the sky is really dark, and it doesn't have a uniform color. And then we glimpse a circular configuration that looks like a fast rotating eddy. As we rise higher, the balloon is caught by the air stream gushing there and shaken hard from the interaction with it. The air below and around us begins to fill with white, fluffy clouds. For a moment, the world goes blank again.

♣

Next thing that pops up in front of my eyes is the luminous stalagmite from my hand at the edge of the cave well. There is no more light glimmering in the deep. Perhaps it's night-time on the other side. Maybe it's night-time on this side, too, as I am now in Esyon, but there is no way to check it. Yet, who knows, perhaps here I live in a different time frame, where the days and nights of these two worlds do not coincide.

I resolve to wait until dawn comes back below so that I can clearly see the direction of its water surface when I dive through the well. I plan to take a large boulder in my hands and plunge into the pit. When I'm past the middle zone, I shall swim and let the water lift me towards the other side. Yet, until then, I'm going to rest as much as I can.

I try to get some sleep, but wake up every hour or so, go to the well and take a short look inside it. Time flows with agonizing slowness among my short intervals of rest. Finally, I can see again the light shining deep down. Lifting the stone in my arms, I step towards the edge and get ready to jump. Finally, I can leave my underground prison. Or, at least, so I hope.

♣

With the sound of the ocean waves in my ears and a large stone tied to my backpack and tent in my hands, I reach the edge of the lake and prepare to dive into the deep water. Above the waves, I hear for the final time the seagulls fishing and shouting random human words. As strange as it seems, I have the feeling that one of them says "Good luck!" several times. For a few seconds, the waves fade away, and the lake looks almost like a mirror. I gaze at the calm surface, at the reflection of the blue-green with a violet tint spread above. Gathering my courage and strength, I step into the water, I step into the sky.

♣

Our airship is shaking hard, and the hot stove full of coal is in danger of overturning and burning the ropes that connect us to the canvas sphere full of hot air. Several pieces of ember are getting sprayed on the floor of our nacelle. I reach towards them in an attempt to grab and throw out the burning fragments before the flames engulf our balloon.

A sudden blast of wind hits the basket, and I'm thrown out of it. My wings open immediately, instinctively, beating fast to prevent me from falling. I try to fly back to the airship, yet an even stronger gust of wind drags me higher, towards the hole in the sky. I see a desperate look on Nivit's face. She tries to jump after me, but a powerful current of air pushes her in the opposite direction, back into the basket. Together with the balloon, she is quickly dragged towards the ground and disappears a few moments later below a thick layer of white clouds.

♣

And | And | And

I plunge into | I sink below | I am pushed

the dark and cold | the rippled surface | by the wind upwards,

water of the well. | of the lake. | towards the vortex.

♣

A liquid cold strikes me with fierce brutality. Thousands of needles are piercing my body. My lungs are ready to explode. My hands and legs move frantically, trying to propel me towards the surface before I lose consciousness and drown. In blurry chaos of bubbles, I rise from the depths like a rocket, breaking the waves above me. My gasping mouth swallows the air with painful greed.

It's a sunny day. The sea is calm, a rocky shore is visible nearby, and I can even see an anchored ship a little farther away. Everything is still blurred and mixed up in my head, but I think her name is _Excelsior_.

### tau

_You live inside my dream, and I live inside yours._

**Seraphios**

* * *

I swim slowly towards the shore, then drag myself out of the water and lie down on the soft, white sand from the beach. A little farther away, the tall buildings from Gold City are lining the horizon. The sky above is clear, and it has a beautiful blue-green color.

At first, I can't recall well what has happened. However, after a few minutes, memories from three separate lives flow back to me, like three streams pouring into each other and transforming into a bigger watercourse. So, it seems I've managed to cross the whirlpool. From now on, I can expect to live in a single dream/existence.

Yet, which one of the previous realities is reflected inside the present world? The one where I was wandering along an empty shore with floating rocks and unusually high tides? The one where I got lost inside the underground maze while returning from a night expedition into Gold City? Or maybe one where I have escaped from Nosyon while flying high above the ground in a hot air balloon?

Now, that I'm here, in the proximity of the city, I'd also like to make sure the conflict with the Islanders has finished. Apparently, it has. Otherwise, the ship wouldn't be anchored so close to the Island's harbor. Of course, the most burning question torturing me is how can I be reunited with my love? And, before looking for answers to any more questions, I want to know today's date.

I look at my clothes. They are in bad condition, but I'm definitely dressed in the military attire I had been wearing on the ship. That means I might be living in the reality where I got lost inside the maze of caves. My bundle containing the backpack and the wrapped-up tent from Teryon is nowhere to be seen. I suppose it faded away when that reality disappeared.

I feel cold, weak, and dizzy. So, I continue to lie down on the soft sand, letting the Sun warm me, resting my tired body under the deep blue-green color of the sky. With my eyes closed, I'm thinking about what to do next. Should I go into the city, or should I swim towards _Excelsior_? I remember that I was promoted to first lieutenant of _Excelsior_ before I became separated from my crew (or at least this is how it happened in this existence). I suppose my duty comes first. As soon as I feel a little better, I'll swim towards the ship. Then, suddenly, I hear voices from the sea.

Opening my eyes and rising into a sitting position, I can see a group of sailors in a boat, rowing enthusiastically towards the shore. They jump out in the shallow water and run in my direction. Strong arms lift me in the air, and my men carry me rapidly towards the small vessel.

"First Lieutenant! You are alive! You survived and came back!" says one of the men.

"Sir, how did you return among us?" asks another.

"It's a long story," I reply. Then I continue:

"After I fell off the bridge, I was pulled by the current through an underground tunnel and ended up in a new cavern, in total darkness. From there, I felt my way out until I reached a place with luminous stalactites and stalagmites. I used one as a torch and wandered for a long time through the network of caves, drinking water from streams and eating white mushrooms I could occasionally find along the way. In the end, I swam out of there through an underground water tunnel."

"Underwater tunnel? There is no such thing nearby," says a sailor.

"Perhaps it has existed only for a few moments, just long enough to let me pass through it. Then it disappeared as soon as I have reached this side," I counter, trying to improvise an explanation. "I'm tired and confused, can you tell me what happened after my disappearance?".

"When you fell into the underground river while fighting the huge cave wolf, everybody thought you had drowned, sir," breaks in another sailor. "We even held a funeral in your memory the next day. The conflict with the locals ended soon after our night expedition, and that means long ago. You look exhausted, and I believe you need some good food and rest now. Then we'll tell you in detail what happened during your absence, and you'll update us on your adventures. The captain is going to be so happy to see you again!"

We are already in the boat, and I can see the ship's hull getting closer, looming larger and larger above us with each rowing move.

"What date is today?" I ask my men.

"It's August 20, sir," replies one of the sailors.

♣

_August 20, late night_ — This is the world where I haven't met Nivit. This is the world where I haven't visited the city. This is the world where I haven't learned the language of the local people. However, the other two existences remain in my memory as alive as this one. And so stays all the knowledge gained while experiencing them.

As our boat was getting closer to _Excelsior_ , I checked my personal possessions. I still had inside my coat's inner pocket my broken watch and my wooden box where I kept my notebook. Looking at my log, I could confirm that the written pages were from my second existence. Yet, even here, I was behind the real date by more than a month. Could I have skipped full days during meditation? Did the time flow underground at a different speed? Or perhaps the crossing of the whirlpool from the pit took a long time, in spite of seeming to last only a few moments?

On the other hand, what about Nivit's crossing over to Esyon? If she tries to use the balloon again and pass through the Grand Stream a few days from now, is she going to end up here, near the harbor, too? I shall have to ask around if anyone has seen her. In fact, she could show up in this place at any time, even tonight. I shall check the whole area around Gold City tomorrow to find out if she hasn't arrived already. If not tomorrow, perhaps she'll be here after tomorrow or in another week or so. Nivit is not the type of person to give up something once she sets her mind on it.

The conflict between our people and the natives has ended on June 23. Two main reasons contributed to the onset of peace.

First was the fact that the thirty people from our crew who died on the shore didn't transform into monsters, as demons were expected to do based on the locals' beliefs. They didn't even cross over to Nosyon but slowly rotted inside the boxes where the city's dwellers kept them.

Secondly, having his daughter taken hostage during our daring night attack (our group was the only one who had reached the city, the other tunnels were blocked by fallen rocks near their exits to the other side), the king lost any will to fight and pleaded for mercy. Only a few days after my disappearance, _Excelsior_ triumphantly entered the harbor and signed a peace treaty with Gold City. The city would give them the required gold and enough water and food provisions so that they had plenty to drink and eat until their return to Earth.

Princess Nern was returned unharmed to her father, and a solemn ceremony was held to honor the people from both sides who fell during the battle. Thirty-two of our men (with me included on the list) and two hundred and fifty-seven natives had lost their lives during that night full of violence. Of course, the dead locals were going to cross over soon and took part in the festivity in their new form. Our people, being as dead as they could be, could not actively participate in the event. They were buried on the shore, with the captain taking care of their funeral.

The captain also gave the king the golden key from the doors that connected the palace to the underground maze. For the time being nobody ventured to tread on the unknown paths from that strange place. However, after our departure, the monarch was planning to send a team of people for a more detailed exploration of the mysterious realm.

At this point, our sailors could already walk freely inside Gold City while many Islanders visited our ship almost daily. The king offered accommodations for the crew inside one of the army buildings near his palace. However, with the occasional exception of some masters of arms, the captain preferred to keep his men on board, ready for action in case something unexpected happened. A few sailors would sometimes sleep in tents on the shore, but they would always keep the ship within their visual range.

With fifteen thousand pounds of gold in the cargo hold, _Excelsior_ raised her anchor on July 2, ready to return home. After four days of sailing, the crew saw land ahead and thought it was a coast from our world. Their surprise was total when the new land proved to be nothing else but the Island, with the gulf-harbor of Gold City opening right in front of them. A second, then a third attempt produced the same result.

All this time, no other foreign ships visited the port. Gold City seemed isolated from the rest of the continent. On the first day of August, the captain had a long discussion with the king about the causes that kept his ship prisoner in Esyon. The king insisted that ships from our realm used to come here in the past, but they always showed up after a storm. Apparently, they could only leave this world in the same type of weather.

Well acquainted with the legends about the Island, the captain disagreed: ships from our country had come here in the past while the weather was good. There was a clear difference in perception between the two sides, and it couldn't be explained. Still, as his three attempts to return to our port of origin had already failed, the commander had to agree with the king and wait for the weather to change. The locals told him that the first storms usually begin sometime in September (based on our calendar). Until that time, not much could be done but wait patiently for their arrival.

During the following weeks, _Excelsior_ 's crew took short exploration trips on the shore, mapping and cataloging the coastal areas. The strangest things would begin to happen when the ship was sailing along the coastline for more than fifteen nautical miles away from the city. As soon as they passed a certain point, the shore faded away in a green fog, and the crew encountered only open sea ahead. After the ship crossed this invisible boundary, despite keeping the helm straight, the men on board would find _Excelsior_ back in front of the stony decks from Gold City's harbor.

Not ready to give up yet, the captain borrowed a freshly repaired local ship from the port and attempted to sail along the coast with it. However, the same phenomenon happened again when he got about fifteen nautical miles away from the city. It took some persuasion to find out from the natives that even ships from other coastal settlements came here only during the season of storms, the same season we were waiting for to leave this place.

Short trips inland were also taken. They found uninhabited valleys surrounded by tall mountains with snowy peaks. Sometimes, strange gravitational anomalies were experienced. The people would see themselves descending when in fact they were climbing, or the other way around. Sometimes, the peaks would seem to be below the sea level when in fact they could be easily spotted from the shore. I suppose this also explained my odd feelings of perspective near the banks of the Kai River.

What seemed at least as strange as the disappearing coast when sailing along it was the fact that the natives from Gold City rarely ventured away from their homes. All their food supplies came from fishing and from crops cultivated nearby. Everything beyond ten miles from the city's outskirts remained virtually unexplored.

For generations, these people only had occasional visitors from the sea and just knew nothing about what could be found deeper inland. No visitors from distant places came while _Excelsior_ was in the area, either from the sea or from the mountains... Even more puzzling, the whole land block looked like a gigantic creation work in progress, like an unfinished carving or painting.

The captain resolved to cast anchor near the shore, every day in a different location. From there, he sent his people to explore the nearby coastal area for short distances. In this way, he was trying to make an accurate local map and understand how the strange geometry of this region worked. At the moment of my return, they had finished investigating the side west of Gold City. So far, all the places beyond the city's edge were found to be uninhabited.

Now they were just starting to check the eastern area. Several men were preparing to row towards the shore and travel a few miles inland. They saw me lying on the beach and came to take me back to _Excelsior_.

At the long-awaited reunion with the crew, the captain hugged me warmly, as I were his own lost-and-found younger brother. On the deck, everybody was more than happy to see me again. In the evening, after a short rest in my cabin and a good meal, freshly shaved and wearing new clothes and boots, I began to tell my long story. So, everybody soon learned how I became lost from my men, how I ended up living three different existences, and how I found a way to cross back the fuzzy boundary that separated me from my crew and _Excelsior_.

When I finished, the others remained silent for a few long moments, their thoughts still immersed in my adventures. To check whether I had really learned the language of the natives, one officer brought me a local document written in Eldorian. I could read it as easily as my own notes and quickly translated the text for everybody.

It was a poem written a few generations ago, about the impossible love between a man coming from the sea and a local girl who becomes very sick and has to cross over into Nosyon. The allusion to my own situation was obvious. The men laughed, but without malice. They had just wanted to test my personal knowledge on the matter. Several members of our crew, including the captain, could now satisfactorily speak the local language. It is called Amenho in Gold City. Its name has no known meaning for the natives. Everybody is puzzled about how much it resembles many of the tongues spoken in our world and about the easiness of learning it, due to its regular structure and logical build. Nobody knows where the name of the language comes from.

The captain was excited to learn from me so many things about the interior of the Island (I shall continue to call it so for continuity, despite knowing now that it's actually a continent). He wrote down in a notebook all the new information. The captain had reached the river himself in a short trek with a few members of the crew. However, he expected to see the arrival of a storm near the coast soon. The bad weather would probably open the gate for a return trip to our world, so a long expedition along the Kai River's course, far away from _Excelsior_ , was dropped. Now, as I came back after visiting previously unexplored areas and wanted to see Nivit again in her village, the captain decided that a journey deeper inland was worth a try, provided it didn't last longer than a week. And I might be just the right person to lead it.

♣

_August 21_ — "With a good boat, I can reach the village of Eldor in about three days, perhaps even sooner. The problem is the return trip. The river has a strong current in the canyon area. It flows with high speed between tall, almost vertical walls. Rowing against it or walking along the river bank are not realistic options. Going across the mountain ridge and sailing along the coast would last at least a week, provided there is a pass we can use and no strange events happen to carry us to a different world, as it was the case during my trek with Nivit. We'd probably have to scale the canyon walls and find a path above to take us back. I doubt we can go to Eldor and return in a week. I would say, we'd need most likely two weeks for the whole journey."

I'm inside the captain's quarters, discussing the expedition deeper inland. He listens carefully to everything I have to say.

"Maybe that is the reason people from Gold City never ventured along the river. Or perhaps some of them did, but as they couldn't or didn't want to come back, nobody ever found out where the river goes. Things are difficult unless you are a bird," he adds, thoughtfully.

Then, after a short silence, he changes the topic:

"Alberto, doesn't this place look to you like something unfinished, like a work in progress?"

I nod in agreement.

"I thought so. Yet, who would build entire worlds the way we build cities or ships?" he says, with a preoccupied expression. "What kind of beings can do such things and why? Their power must be beyond measure. Then, why would they link such a strange, far away world to Earth? The people living in Gold City know nothing about the builders of what we call the Island, and the builders of this place are not to be seen anywhere. Perhaps you, Alberto, had the chance to communicate with two of them, I mean those who contacted you as the Angel and the Architect."

"Captain, I am as puzzled by this story as you are," I reply. "The more I think about this realm, the less I understand its purpose. But in the end, we can only take the things as they are, meet the incoming days and nights one at a time, and hope that one day at least part of this mystery will clear off."

"I suppose you're right. We can't change the current circumstances, anyway. At least they seem friendly. We wouldn't stand a chance if such powerful beings wanted to harm us," continues the captain, lost in his thoughts. After another short period of silence, he adds: "You know, _Excelsior_ can carry back a lot more than fifteen thousand pounds of gold, provided we unloaded some of our weapons and ammunition."

Of course, I know that fifteen thousand pounds are well below the capacity of our cargo bay, but I also know the moral principles of our captain. He would never ask for more than what he thinks he deserves. So, I say:

"I suppose you thought this was fair compensation for the damage and loss of life inflicted by their attack, sir?"

"That's right. At first, when their king began talking about trade, I was uncertain of what we could offer them in exchange for their gold. Most of our cargo consisted of weapons, ammunition, and some food supplies. There was no way I would have given them our weapons, and everything else was of little value. Somehow, what happened next was God's will, and hence I could ask for a fixed amount of gold that would be enough to make us rich without discarding anything, but not too much so that it would affect the way our vessel sails. You know, we still need to deliver the weapons and the ammunition to the Northern Fort, after we come back to our world. There has to be balance and justice in everything."

"Your decision was wise, sir," I reply approvingly. The captain continues:

"Those superior beings who built this world, if they are watching us, and something tells me they do, must have seen our behavior here. Perhaps my choice also had a contribution to their benevolent attitude towards us. In any case, I'd like to think so."

He stands up, goes to the cabin's window, and gazes outside for a while, towards the shore of this strange place that defies any rational understanding. Then, he turns towards me and switches back to the previous topic of our conversation:

"The wind here changes direction regularly most of the time, blowing from the ocean towards the land during the day and from the land towards the ocean at night, which is actually typical for most coastal locations on Earth. What if you let the wind carry you for a trip inland?"

"Am I going to become a bird?" I retort, looking at him with a puzzled expression. A moment later, I grasp what he means.

The simplicity of the idea strikes me with the power of a cannon shot. Why not build a hot air balloon and ride the wind all the way to Eldor, then go the other way when the wind's direction changes? We could reach our destination in less than two days and come back in about the same time.

"You mean to use a balloon," I say.

"Of course, how else could the wind carry you?" he retorts with a smile. "Let's begin building one tomorrow. You already have the necessary experience, and I believe you can make it fly in a few days."

I leave the captain's cabin a few minutes later, ready to start my work on this new project. Nivit hasn't crossed back to Esyon yet. While preparing to visit her village, I'm still waiting for her arrival.

♣

_August 22_ — The next day, taking the necessary materials from the city, our crew begins working in earnest to build an airship large enough to carry five people and sufficient water and food supplies for five days.

Although the construction of our balloon progresses rapidly and most sailors are working around the clock to finish it, we shall need another three days until it is ready to lift off for the trip inland. An ingenious system of square sails is going to act as a rudder that will help our airship change direction under the wind. A small coal stove with a tall cylindrical chimney made of steel is going to keep the air hot inside the spherical canvas. I plan to take two people with me on this trip to the village of Eldor.

There is still no trace of Nivit. Everybody from _Excelsior_ 's crew, as well as many people from Gold City, are keeping an eye on the coast and the inland hills. They've promised to inform me immediately if they spot in the area a person resembling her.

_August 23_ — When I don't have to supervise the work myself, I prefer to spend a few hours wandering inside the city, for the first time in this existence. I enjoy walking the streets at random, admiring the architectural aesthetics of the buildings, the beautiful gardens, and the local costumes of the men and women. And so, I have already visited several times the small shore cemetery where our own people were buried. I've found among them two stones marking empty graves: the one belonging to the first lieutenant and mine.

As I was the person who conducted the successful raid that took the princess hostage and shortened the war, many locals regard me with deference and respect. Last night, the king invited me to have dinner at the palace. Gold City has no queen. The king's consort has secretly left the land shortly after Nern's birth and went away towards an unknown destination.

Princess Nern was present there, too. I was surprised how much she looked like Nivit. Yet, behind a striking physical resemblance, her gaze was cold and distant, coming from an entirely different person. On the surface, she displayed a charming smile, but she must have hated me for kidnapping her during the war with Gold City.

During the evening feast, I described my adventures to the people from the palace. Their astonished looks were clear proof of the powerful impression made by my story. When I stood up and bowed slightly towards them, preparing to return to the ship, all the individuals present, except for the king and the princess, rose from their seats, as if I were a highly ranked person myself.

I apologized to the princess for the kidnapping and asked her to forgive me. Finally, she produced a genuine smile and some of the icy cold sparkles coming from her eyes melted away. Perhaps not now, but someday in the future, I think we could be on friendly terms with each other.

I visited the city library this morning and browsed through the myriads of books filling the shelves there. However, none of them could give me any useful information about the origin of this civilization. The history from Eldor and Nosyon repeats here, too: no clear records older than two hundred and fifty years can be found on these pages. I wonder who is taking so much care to remove them. The massive gold statue standing in the central square embodies a famous king from the past, Isador, who reorganized the city and repelled a massive attack from the sea.

These invaders from back then were described as people who used weapons that could kill from a long distance and imitated the sound of thunder. The natives saw them as demons. If an invader died, his corpse gradually turned into a hideous creature. The good part was that when killed, the monsters were as dead as the people they possessed and did not put the locals in any more danger. And this is how the legend about the demons began.

The people in both Gold City and Eldor are afraid of storms that come with thunders and flashes of lightning. The natural discharges of electricity are considered weapons used by evil spirits to prevent a traveler from reaching his or her destination. Many prefer to turn back when encountering such a storm, but those who continue their trip and manage to finish it are highly respected and admired.

I'm still waiting for Nivit. My love, where are you now?

_August 24_ — There are no horses in this world. The cows, sheep, goats, dogs, cats or chicken, so common on Earth, are also absent. There are no mice or rats, either. The Esyonians don't have any kind of livestock or animals used for work, not even to carry heavy things.

I still wonder how the locals carried around all the construction materials when this city took shape. Perhaps the same way they have built the pyramids and temples in Egypt or Babylon so long ago? However, there were hundreds of thousands of peasants or slaves who did the hard work back then. The population here is simply not big enough for such accomplishments through manual labor. This is another mystery that probably is not going to reveal its answer to us any time soon...

I have seen these people's theaters, concert halls, and temples. Temples where individuals who have finished their life cycle are carried to pass through the process of metamorphosis and cross over into Nosyon. However, most people who die cross over from the forest at the edge of the city, that forest I have visited during my night walk alone in my first existence/dream.

I have also entered their grocery stores and taverns, their schools and military academies and even their famous gold mines, located only six or seven miles away from the city. Yes, this is a strange and exotic world, but it has many things in common with Earth. Sometimes, I think, too many. As if it wanted somehow to copy our own civilization. As if the people here wanted to become more like us with every generation, until someday they are going to be exactly like us, they are going to be us.

Every day, I walk along the shore, to the place where I have emerged from the water, hoping to find Nivit waiting, freshly arrived from Nosyon. Yet, each time I step on the fine sand, only the foamy waves, wandering back and forth, come to meet me. My crew and some people from the city are also periodically looking around for the potential arrival of my love. Taking a boat and using a stone tied at the end of a long rope, I probed the sea for the bottomless well in the area where I had emerged a few days ago. However, the pit was nowhere to be found. I suppose the crossing had been working one-way only.

♣

_August 25_ — The preparations are finished. The balloon is already floating in the air since this morning. It was named Robert, after our previous first lieutenant, killed by an arrow during the tragic fight on that night of June 13. The other day, my pocket watch was repaired by the jewelry masters from the city. It looks and works like a new one. Now I can tell the time again and schedule my work more efficiently. Thierry, a young midshipman, and Sim, an armorer, are going to accompany me on this journey. They both speak Amenho satisfactorily and are good at drawing the surrounding landscape. I expect them to help me map the land and make detailed sketches of the places we are going to visit.

We lift off at dawn and quickly rise to almost a thousand feet above the sea while the wind pushes us lightly towards the shore. The beautiful and peaceful scenery can be admired below our feet. South of us, the blue ocean is extending all the way to the horizon. The golden roofs of the city buildings are shining brightly from the west. The Kai River is already visible in front of us. _Excelsior_ and her crew salute our balloon with loud cheers and a few cannon shots.

The large city mentioned by the Eldorians, located way farther to the north, is not going to be explored during this trip. It would take a few weeks to visit it and come back to our ship. Meanwhile, the first storms may already begin here, and with them will come the opportunity to return to our world during the early days of September. If we miss this window, we may have to wait for a year for the next. The whole crew wants to go home as soon as possible. Perhaps in the future, when _Excelsior_ or another ship comes back to this world, someone will explore the whole continent in detail.

The balloon floats over a thick forest and soon descends to reach the Kai River. From here, we need to turn right to follow the stream. Releasing a small amount of hot air and using our attached sails, we stabilize our flight above the water at an altitude of only sixty feet. A metal plate tied to a pair of long ropes is lowered into the stream to keep our movement direction stable. The wind, reflected partially by the almost vertical mountain ridge, pushes us further along our new course with a velocity of about ten miles per hour.

How different is this journey from my first trek along the river bank! Sick, hungry and tired, I was faltering along the northern bank, searching for food, looking for a shelter for the night, not knowing what to expect the next day. Now, we can relax and admire the landscape while the balloon takes us quickly to our destination. With this speed, we are likely to reach Eldor by tomorrow.

Then, if I find Nivit there, what shall I tell her? Probably she is not going to recognize me, as we have never met in this existence. What words can I say in front of this bright, beautiful woman? That I want her to come with me to my world? However, is she going to be the same Nivit that I met in the other reality/dream?

There is enough coal on board for about five days of non-stop flying. Beyond this interval of time, we'll have to use dry wood collected along the way. We are also expected to be back on board _Excelsior_ in no more than a week. Robert continues to advance majestically above the river's waves, between the tall walls of the canyon.

After sunset, we add more coal to the fire, gain some height, and land on the canyon's upper edge. We are going to rest here for the night. The surrounding landscape displays a flat, dry plateau covered by scattered patches of vegetation. We throw three small anchors over a couple of bushes, release part of the air from the balloon, and tie the big globe down to the ground with ropes, to avoid having it dragged away by the wind. In the morning, we shall need only about half an hour to soar in the air again.

♣

_August 26_ — We begin our flight at about 10 a.m. At noon, we leave the canyon behind and come to the picturesque region where the village of Eldor is situated. A few miles farther, the wind begins to blow from the front. It is not possible to stir the balloon towards our destination anymore. We release the hot air and fold up the huge canvas sphere. In three hours, we put together a big raft from several trees and, with the balloon packed up, continue our journey downriver. At dusk, we haven't reached the village yet and need to set our camp outside for a second night.

_August 27_ — Our raft floats downstream all morning, and we see the first signs of human activity at around 11 a.m. Thirty minutes later, the familiar sight of the village, where I was born for the second time in one of my other existences, appears in front of us.

The Eldorians are a bit surprised to see our raft coming from upstream, but happy to have new visitors. I already know everybody, but these people haven't seen me before in this reality. So, not wanting to scare anyone, I introduce myself and my friends and wait politely to hear their names, even though I already have all of them committed to my memory.

To my surprise, Eori and Nivit are not here. When I describe them, nobody knows about a father and daughter who practice medicine and collect herbs from the forests nearby. Eori and Nivit have never existed in this reality. The whole area where their house used to be is covered by a fruit garden. In this reality, Nadar is also the village physician. There is no Nivit in this world and no way to heal my pain...

We spend two days in the village, talking to the people and copying some texts from their books. At the same time, many locals write down information about ourselves and our world. There is not much left to do here, and I decide to return to _Excelsior_ the following morning. As _Robert_ can carry two more people, Etin, the village chief, and Nadar, the scholar, decide to come with us to Gold City. They will return home by themselves using a canoe to navigate downstream along the Kai River.

_August 29_ — The Eldorians take us back to the canyon in a large boat, with a dozen oarsmen on each side. They are making the return trip upstream much easier. It is already late afternoon when we are near the familiar cliffs. The villagers can't wait to see us lifting up in the air, as they have never witnessed such a thing before. We fill the balloon with hot air and wait until evening for the wind direction to change. Then we take off above the rapids and proceed back towards the shore while waving our hands to our friends below. At night, a full moon shines high in the sky, and its light makes the aerial navigation almost as easy as during daytime.

My crewmates and the Eldorian passengers are excited about the flight. Yet, in spite of the beautiful scenery from below, my soul feels empty. There is no Nivit in this world. Even if I meditate and cross into Nosyon, I shall not find her in this reality. Or perhaps I am living now in a dream? Maybe everything I can see, hear or feel now is a dream? Then, everything I have seen and felt in all my alternate existences was also a dream? A butterfly's dream...

♣

_September 2_ — I don't know what to do from now on. In a week or so, we might see the first storm and shall take our chances to return to our world. It seems a bit strange, but none of the natives from Gold City want to come with us and visit our country. Maybe they are too attached to this place and don't want to risk being forever separated from their home. Still, Nivit wanted to come with me regardless of the risks, and so did some people from Eldor in my first dream/existence.

Etin and Nadar are staying with us on the ship during the night and spend most of the day-time inside the city. They are fascinated by the large settlement from the shore and plan to open a regular commercial route between this place and their village. The villagers intend to return to Eldor in a couple of days, perhaps before our ship sails away from this place.

If I resolve to stay on the Island after _Excelsior_ leaves, I can take my time and search for Nivit everywhere. However, if she simply does not exist in this reality, I may spend a long time stranded here, never seeing her again. To return to my world, I'll have to build a small ship myself, then wait for new magnetic storms to arrive sometime next year. Somehow I have a feeling that if I don't go back now, something will prevent me from doing so later. On the other hand, by returning with _Excelsior_ to my country, I'm afraid that I might come to regret the lost opportunity of being reunited with my love, no matter how small the hope for its fulfillment.

She said: "I know that you will find me again, no matter where I might disappear."

I have to do something to bring her here from a Nosyon that's part of another reality. I saw Nivit being pushed back towards the ground from the eye in the sky. Maybe the balloon was damaged and had to be repaired before its next flight. Somehow, deep inside, I know she survived. Then, after the necessary repairs, she will definitely try again to cross over. However, where is she going to emerge if her crossing is successful? Could it be the same place where I came back to this realm or could it be someplace far away from here?

I can't count on Nivit arriving by herself to Gold City. I think the best course of action for me is to return to my world for the time being. Then, I shall find a way to come back.

♣

_September 5_ — The flow of time continued unabated, careless about the pain burning inside me. Etin and Nadar left this morning for their village, their canoe full of gifts from the city and from our crew. They've promised to return in about a month. Most likely _Excelsior_ and I won't be here to see them again.

Several more exploration trips with the balloon were performed by our crew members during the past few days. Even the captain took part in one. However, they were all within twelve miles from the shore, just beyond the other bank of Kai River. All the explored areas were uninhabited and covered by mountain ridges. A detailed map of the coastline was drawn from the air, as well.

I did not take an active part in any of these new endeavors but asked to be temporarily relieved from active duty. I spent most of the time meditating and praying on the shore, near the place where I had emerged on August 20, trying to find a clue about what had happened to my love before _Excelsior_ was going to set sail back to Earth. At night, I slept inside a small tent on the beach, hoping to see Nivit appear, like a mermaid, from the waves.

When meditating, I tried to restore my connection with the Angel or the Architect, hoping to receive an answer to my burning questions, but I could never reach them again. Every time one became one with the Universe, one would only feel one's mind expanding, boundless, between planets and stars, with no Nivit to be found anywhere.

_September 6_ — My hopes are fading. Nivit is not going to emerge from Nosyon on this shore anytime soon, if at all. Either the crossing point has moved, or she could not cross over yet. Waiting here, near Gold City, won't help anyone. Duty requires me to return to Earth, but I shall come back to the Island as soon as I can. Deep in my heart, I know I'm going to find her again someday. I only need to be patient and believe in our future reunion.

_September 7_ — I returned to active duty and began helping the crew with the final preparations for the trip back. Dark clouds are already gathering near the horizon since early morning. A storm is brewing nearby. Even though _Excelsior_ is still anchored at the quay, the crew spends most of their time on board and are allowed only shorts visits to the city. As soon as the storm's front arrives at the shore, our vessel has to move into the open sea and prepare for her return journey. With the fifteen thousand pounds of gold inside, we are all rich. Also, we all plan to come again to the Island, maybe each of us with his own ship. This is a fascinating world that many would like to explore in more detail, hoping to become even richer from trading with it.

_September 10_ — The days are getting shorter. We have already said goodbye several times to our friends from Gold City. Each evening was thought to be the last one for us here, at least until the day we might eventually come back to this land, only to find out next morning that the dark clouds covering half the sky had quietly faded away overnight. Nonetheless, this afternoon a storm seems finally ready to hit the coast. We can see lightning bolts piercing the waves far away in the open while drops of rain are falling sporadically from above.

For the last time, I went to the shore, to the place where I returned to _Excelsior_ through the whirlpool, hoping to see a miracle happening, with the unrealistic expectation to find Nivit emerging from the gray waves. However, like during all the previous days, only the sea, the wind, and the sand welcomed me.

Three weeks have already passed. Apparently, Nivit could not cross over. Or maybe she did but ended up somewhere far away from here. Or perhaps she emerged inside another reality, a reality beyond my reach. There is nothing else to do but accept my fate and return to my world for the time being. With my share of gold, I shall buy or build my own ship and plan to come back here as soon as I can. If needed, I'm going to spend the rest of my life searching for my love.

It's time to go now. I have to leave this world but shall continue to pray for our future reunion. So far, God has not answered my calls, but who can fathom His plans with me?

The captain orders the anchor raised. We exit the harbor with all the sails up, aiming for the cyclone's eye. Soon, the rain starts pouring hard while the compass is already spinning fast. I got the hold of the helm, and I'm steering our vessel over these furious waves. I have never thought I shall see the day when I'm actually relieved to encounter a magnetic disturbance while trying hard to maintain our ship's course.

"Just do everything you can to keep her afloat," shouts the captain. "All that matters is to see ourselves on the other side. Once there, the orientation will present no difficulty. Sooner or later the clouds will scatter, and we are going to have the stars in the sky to guide us in case the compass won't be working properly. Our stars."

9 p.m. — Most of our sails are already reefed. The storm has proven to be a powerful hurricane. _Excelsior_ is shaken hard by the furious waves. While fighting the gale, we came at some point quite close to losing two sailors overboard when a big wave crashed unexpectedly over the deck. Luckily, they managed to grab tightly a bunch of hawsers bound to the mast and saved themselves from certain death.

Shaken by the amplified rolling of the ship, most of us suffer from seasickness. Overwhelmed by nausea and almost ready to vomit, I'm thinking about Nivit. Maybe she has already died, and I'm going to join her soon in the afterworld. Perhaps this time _Excelsior_ is not going to survive the violent siege of the elements. It would really be a cruel stroke of fate: when we all became so rich, to drown in the middle of the ocean, together with our gold...

_September 11, 10 a.m._ — The sea is calm. Our vessel has suffered only minor damages. All the people on board survived with no serious injuries. The compass is stable, and the Sun has risen from the expected direction, for the first time in months. Its present diameter is also right. The sky above is blue, without any trace of green. As I'm checking the Sun's coordinates, the man from the observation platform shouts:

"Whales at starboard!"

_Excelsior_ changes its course, to observe them from a closer distance. I'm thinking of Nivit again. How could I get to know where she is? What has happened to her? Perhaps I can find the scientist who discovered that a pulse of electricity can destabilize a compass. He could help me build a device to generate magnetic disturbances and lightning at will. I shall use a part of my gold to equip a ship with it, go to the location where the first storm had caught us, and try to return to the Island.

Yet, even if I succeed in my enterprise, there is no Nivit there. Unless I want to marry princess Nern, provided she and the king agree with the idea, I'm not going to see any familiar face to remind me of my lost love. And no, I don't want Nern by my side, I want to spend my days together with Nivit. What should I do? What can I do?

She said: "I know that you will find me again, no matter where I might disappear."

Once more, the memory of her words is piercing my heart like a long, sharp thorn. This is the burning thorn of a vividly beautiful rose called love. And this pain is here to keep me company for a long time to come. Yet, I have decided I shall never let it kill the glimmer of hope that still lives inside me.

Half an hour after they were spotted from the top of our mast, the ship comes within close range of a pod containing ten humpback whales. The cetaceans get scared by our presence and dive deeper, swimming rapidly away, most of them in directions almost perpendicular to our course. The captain orders the vessel back on her previous route. In the meantime, a few quick observations of the Sun have already pinpointed the latitude of _Excelsior_ on the map.

♣

With every passing hour, our ship is sailing closer to the port of the large southern metropolis where our naval base is located. The music of the foamy waves surrounding _Excelsior_ is reverberating among the sails.

A wet, refreshing wind is blowing onto my face. I stand at the bow, gazing at the fuzzy horizon line. My lungs are slowly moving up and down, like a pair of butterfly wings, breathing in and out the glorious dance of the atoms from our world. At this moment, the whole Universe is breathing in and out with me. However, my heart feels empty, unable to join this ephemeral waltz of nature.

In three or four days we are going to cast anchor in our home port and see families and friends who thought for the last three months that we were all dead. Most are going to receive good news, but some of them will not change their mourning clothes, as thirty-one men from our crew are not among us anymore. Their bodies are rotting away in the shallow graves from the rocky shore of the Island, just outside Gold City.

As for my case, no one from the city is really missing me. All my friends and relatives live far away from here. Nivit, who is my only family now, has crossed over into a purgatory-like world, inside a reality different from the one where I'm living now.

No arms will hug me when I return. No one from the city will shed tears of joy at the news that I'm alive. I will find only a small apartment near the central square and an ocean of solitude. Without Nivit, the mountain of riches I've got on the Island feels useless. I take a deep breath for a moment, then come back to my last idea. Perhaps all this gold is not going to be that useless after all. I shall employ it to build a new ship and find a way to return to the Island.

Nivit was so confident I'll find her! Maybe she knows me better than I do. So, I can't let despair win, I can't betray such a deep trust! I just need to have more faith in God. I just need to believe in the power of love, arming myself with strength and patience. When the time is right, I'm sure my questions are going to get answers.

In the slow rolling of the ship, I'm extending my arms, like a seabird. With my eyes closed, I see myself becoming one with the wind, soaring above the ocean higher and higher. In the meantime, my lips continue to whisper, like a prayer, her name.

### upsilon

And so my incredible adventures with _Excelsior_ on Esyon came to an end. Time flew slowly and painfully after my return on Earth. Even though our government took possession of more than a third of the gold we brought back from the Island, all of us still became very rich. Our story became famous, told again and again in newspapers throughout the country and all over the world.

I had to fight off the excessive attention of the public for a few months, then new topics got the interest of the press, and my life could return to normal again. Sort of normal, anyway. Motivated by our financial success, many other ships tried to reach the Island, planning to start high-profit commercial enterprises. However, all their attempts failed.

With so much wealth in their possession, many of our crew members simply resigned from the navy and started a worry-free life while some began new flourishing businesses. Since our return, nothing but the open sea was encountered near the crossing point that had brought us to the Island.

Even those waiting for a storm to approach, sailing through it with the hope to cross over to Esyon while riding angry waves under a sky cut by thunderbolts, found themselves every time on the same side of the bridge, an invisible bridge that might not have even been there anymore. Never again since that day was a compass orientation disturbed at those coordinates. No more crossing gates opened towards the shore from the other realm.

Weeks quickly passed, soon turning into months. The lake of time that separated us from the moment of our return became a sea. Everybody began to realize that another trip to the other world was not going to happen any time soon, if ever again. The adventurers dreaming of unimaginable riches, or those just thirsty to explore new realms, gave up on their quest one after another. The Island became just a legend, again.

As the first lieutenant of _Excelsior_ , I was entitled to receive a significant amount of gold from our bounty. About a quarter of this quantity was more than enough to buy me a large and beautiful mansion inside the city and a small flotilla of three older ships. Another quarter was used to buy a state of the art new brig for my future voyages of exploration and discovery. I baptized it _Nivit_. What remained got well hidden inside a cellar of my new home.

One month after our return, I resigned from the navy, like most of the crew from _Excelsior_. Soon after that, I opened a new commercial venture by sending my freshly-bought ships to far away places in the south. I began trading tools and textiles for spices and exotic fruits. This business soon became a consistent source of income, but all these new riches gave me little comfort, as I still could not find a way to step back into the other reality and be reunited with the woman I loved. With my spirit numb, I was living now as in a dream, manifesting inside a realm where nothing felt real anymore.

Besides gold, I had brought with me from the Island several light globes and began using them to illuminate my bedroom at night. They worked fine for a couple of weeks, then the light source from inside slowly faded and died. Filling their interior with new fragments of wood did not make them shine again, and I could think of no other way to bring them back to life.

Without expecting much of it, I sent a detective to Canton to check the whereabouts of Mei Hsing. He found out she really had come to this city from China seven years earlier and opened a store there. It had been named "Three Wheels" and used to be quite successful for the first twelve months of its existence. Then, the store closed, and nobody knew where Mei Hsing went. A few people from the neighborhood thought she might have gone to Tibet because she often expressed her intention to move to that place. Yet, nothing was certain.

A journey to Tibet was beyond my envoy's means, being too risky and requiring too much time and money. He found no other leads and came back to me with this news. In the same strange circumstances that brought her into my life in 1794, Mei Hsing had faded away now in one of the remotest parts of our world, distant and mysterious like a comet.

Soon after returning to my country, I also tried to contact the scientist who had investigated the effect of electrical pulses on the magnetic field lines. However, I found out he'd been dead for five years already. Luckily, I succeeded in buying all his manuscripts from his widow, who lived in my city. The scholar had elaborated many advanced theories describing this mysterious fluid emitted from the flashes of lightning that nowadays most people call "electricity." He also used to work on extensive experimental setups that could produce and store electrical charges in large quantities.

Even since 1733, Charles François de Cisternay du Fay already stated that electricity comes in two varieties that cancel each other. In most situations, they appear mixed in equal proportions and make the objects, plants, animals, and people "neutral." However, if you stroke a cat with a dry hand in the dark, you are going to generate sparks of light and crackling sounds, as the cat's fur and your skin load with opposite types of electricity. Now, if two objects with large quantities of these opposite types of electricity are placed close enough to each other, they will tend to go back to their neutral state.

Hence, if I could find a way to charge two objects in opposite ways and set them relatively close to each other, then the electricity charges would move back between them through the air, to render them neutral. This migration of electricity charges would look like a spark or like a lightning bolt. Of course, using a lot of cat furs and asking many people to pet them wasn't going to be helpful. I needed something much stronger. And here the manuscripts I had freshly acquired became quite handy.

The late scientist had been a genius. A life devoted to study and experiments had given him the necessary knowledge to design a machine that could produce lightning bolts at will. Was he familiar with the legends about the Island? I suspected he was because his device could apparently generate both electrical discharges and an irregular circular magnetic field that would make a compass spin. Among his papers, I found a detailed drawing of his apparatus and began to study it with the utmost care.

The concept was simple: A belt made of silk was running over two pulleys, one of them almost completely surrounded by a hollow metal sphere. Two electrodes, built from comb-shaped rows of sharp metal points, were positioned respectively near the bottom of the lower pulley and inside the sphere, over the upper pulley. One comb was connected to the sphere, and the other to the ground. The comb inside the sphere could be tied to the positive electrode of a Leyden jar if someone wanted to charge it.

The belt carried the positive electricity to the sphere's surface while the lower pulley was connected through a wire to a smaller sphere that got charged with negative electricity when the device was running. Both pulleys were connected to a handle that was used to move the silk belt. A parallel silk belt, pulled by the same handle, had dozens of wires connecting the two pulleys on both sides in a circular loop. Rotating the handle could generate locally a variable magnetic field that would make a compass needle spin. The whole device was set on a wide platform made of wood or stone, to prevent the flow of electricity towards the neutral earth (except for the comb directly connected to the ground).

An area covering about ten square feet was left empty in the center of this device. It enclosed the volume that was subjected to the effects of lightning flashes and magnetic field variations. The way the apparatus was drawn, this place had just enough room for a person to squeeze in. Everything I saw on the sheet of paper looked too much like a device designed to help somebody cross into a different world. Of course, such a machine would never give the expected results unless it was run next to a bridge connecting to the other side. Did this man know about such a bridge when he designed this equipment? Did he also have the means to look for one?

Unsettled by this discovery, I jumped in my carriage and paid a new visit to the scientist's widow, a respectable woman in her fifties. I had to know more about her late husband's life.

She graciously agreed to see me again and invited me in. Seated next to a low table with steaming cups of fragrant tea, I asked her for more details related to the disappearance of her husband from this world. In a calm and slightly monotonous tone, she told me his story:

"My husband's death remains a mystery for me to this day," she began, her eyes fogged by tears. "During the last years of his life, he spent most of his time building these electrical machines that produced lightning. He used to be a rich man, with a lot of money inherited from his father and a flourishing commercial enterprise. Unfortunately, ten years ago he began spending most of his fortune on mysterious experiments that were kept secret even from me.

"I used to pray every day for this folly to stop. In fact, this madness began soon after he had bought a piece of land near the southern shore. There, he built a spacious house on a high cliff facing the sea. I don't know whether it was something about this place that ultimately brought this insanity to him or perhaps it was some previous event that had made him buy that property.

"He never told me what he was trying to achieve and never let me stay there with him. Instead, he asked me to manage our family business from the city while he was only coming here every couple of weeks, in most cases only to take another large sum of money to be used for his secret research. All I know about his work is that his machines were quite large and could generate lightning at will.

"The day he disappeared, the weather was warm and sunny before sunset. Yet, at nightfall, an unexpected, powerful thunderstorm fell over the southern shore. Next morning, the servants, who slept in another building farther away, found the house badly damaged by lightning. My husband was simply gone. The servants arrived in the city around noon and gave me the shocking news. Scared and worried beyond measure, I arrived on the shore in the evening and looked for him everywhere.

"A big hole in the roof of the house showed the exact place where the lightning bolt had struck. I found the situation peculiarly strange because the building had a lightning rod mounted outside, and this was supposed to protect it during storms. I rushed inside. There was no trace of my husband. In the laboratory, I found a heap of ash on the floor, surrounded by the machines badly damaged by the lightning. None of the servants could help me with a coherent explanation of what had happened, because nobody was in the large room where the machines were kept when the accident took place.

"I suppose a lightning bolt, coming either from the storm or from his machines, or maybe from both, burned him to ashes. God had just listened to my prayer. The folly stopped, but my husband had to die to get it fulfilled. I really wish he was still alive, despite his madness... Unfortunately, death was probably the only way to stop his obsession."

She finished her story and began sobbing. I bowed my head, glancing at the floor, feeling compassion for her sadness and not knowing what to say. No comforting words beside a feeble "I'm sorry for your loss" came out of my mouth.

"Do you still have the machines built by him?" I asked a minute later, after she had regained her composure.

"They reminded me too much of my husband's death and our family's ruin. Soon after he was gone, I called a blacksmith who dismantled what remained of them and took the materials into his workshop. Then I sold the property, too. There is nothing left of these devices, I'm sorry. Hopefully, you will be able to rebuild them from my husband's notes and drawings. You don't look like a madman to me, and your insistence in understanding his accomplishments makes me think that perhaps his work was not entirely insane after all."

I thanked the lady for the new information, wished her all the best, and left her house more troubled than ever. I was never going to know what this scientist had been searching for, nor if he had ever succeeded in traveling to a different world at will.

Was the machine that made him disappear more advanced than the drawings from his papers? Did he know about a bridge extending up to the coast in the region where he had bought the property? It was too late to find answers to these questions, all I could do now was to rebuild the device from the drawings of his manuscript. Also, I could eventually buy that property and attempt to redo his experiments in the same location. With these thoughts, I rode back home.

Four months had already passed since my return from Esyon. What was Nivit doing now in Nosyon or in whatever strange world where she was currently living? The thought of her, the hope of finding her again, continued to give me the so-much-needed power to go on.

Nivit, my dear, please don't give up, I'm going to find you again, no matter where you might be! Just, please, stay alive for me there, and I'll get back to you! I promise!

Wait for me, don't fade away!

### phi

I stepped into the spacious room from the second floor of my new house, the one I liked to use as my office. I turned back to the notes that belonged to the eccentric researcher and began exploring them again. Set in chronological order, they were kept between two large, thick covers made of dark leather. Personal observations and comments, drawings and calculations, filled hundreds of pages. I had already browsed all of them before but decided to go through the whole folder one more time. I didn't know what was suddenly pushing me to do it, maybe my burning desire to see Nivit again, maybe my fear of losing her forever, or perhaps something impossible to explain that had been awakened inside me by the story of the scientist's widow.

Turning the pages carefully, looking in detail at their content and reading here and there fragments from the notes for more than an hour, I reached the final written lines. I was now preparing to put the binder back inside the large wooden chest where I used to keep it, together with a few other precious personal things. Then I suddenly realized that the back cover seemed to have a thin pocket in its upper part.

The cut was so thin and so well masked that it would have been quite easy to miss. I had never noticed it before, despite browsing the folder many times. It didn't seem to contain anything, but I decided to check it anyway. From the cover's interior, contradicting my expectations, my fingertips extracted several thin sheets of paper, written with small and elegant letters by the same hand that had filled the notes already familiar to me. With the feeling I had chanced onto something important, I began reading them immediately.

♣

_Dear Edward,_

_First of all, please accept my apologies for not replying sooner to your letter. I hope you and your family are all well and in good health. Please send my best wishes to everybody!_

_More than blaming myself for this delay, I should probably also blame the events that have happened recently in my life. However, the inconvenience generated by my long silence is likely to be compensated by the present account of surprising discoveries made during this time. I shall tell you a story I have kept secret until now from everybody. You, my friend, are the first person to whom I am revealing it._

_After finishing reading these pages, I hope you will agree with me about my secrecy on this matter. With this knowledge comes too much power, a power that can be very dangerous if fallen into the wrong hands._

_Being a good and trustworthy friend of mine for such a long time, you must remember well that not many years have passed since I used to be a successful merchant and an active traveler. Back then, I had my own fleet of commercial vessels sailing across the vast oceans of our world. In addition to this (and you also know it all too well), I always had a keen interest in science, trying to stay up-to-date with any new discoveries and looking for ways to use them for improving my own trading business. In this spirit, I often went to remote places on my ships, doing small geographical and cultural explorations of my own._

_Seven years ago, while on a trip to Egypt, I bought an unusual manuscript from an Arab merchant whose bookstore I had discovered by chance on a narrow street of Cairo. I'm sure I have told you about it back then, but perhaps I didn't get into the details of the text's contents. The book pretended to be a copy of a work written in Antiquity by a philosopher called Elessyos, a disciple of Thales of Miletus. There is little known about Elessyos' origins, except that he had come to Asia Minor traveling on foot all the way from Jerusalem and remained there for the rest of his life._

_The book was written in Arabic, a language in which I can say aloud only about fifty words. For this reason, after I got back home, I had to pay a good deal of money to an Arab interpreter from my city to have it translated. Another two months had to pass until its content could finally be made accessible to me. If genuine, this was a real treasure because no people of today have ever heard of a philosopher named Elessyos. Unfortunately, being a copy after a copy after a copy, there was no way to verify its authenticity._

_The manuscript described the existence of mysterious "bridges" that supposedly can connect our world to a different reality. At first, I didn't take the claims seriously and read the book as a work of pure fiction. However, two years later, while sailing through the Southern Seas and passing the Dragon's Island at night, a bright blue glow suddenly engulfed the top of my ship's front mast. What my crew and I were witnessing was a rare phenomenon, called by most sailors St. Elmo's Fire. Looking at the fussy glow floating above, I could see how the sky was filling up fast with menacing clouds. Fifteen minutes later, the light faded away. A full carpet of fluffy crests was floating now less than three hundred feet high, displaying a most unusual dark-green color. Flashes of lightning were furiously striking the waves around the vessel while the helm compass was spinning quickly back and forth. The accompanying thunders were emitting a low rumbling sound, almost as if an earthquake was just taking place deep underneath the waves._

_Right before the rain began pouring, a violent flash of electricity hit the ship's prow. A few wooden barrels filled with dried fish happened to be there. The next moment, two of them were gone. There was no damage, no destruction on the deck. The barrels had simply disappeared without a trace. I looked towards the place occupied by them just moments earlier and could not believe my eyes. Nothing was left on that spot, nothing to suggest that those barrels had existed there before. Then it started to rain heavily, the compass stabilized, the clouds' color changed to dark gray, and the storm became a typical tropical sea storm._

_After a few hours of struggle with the angry waves, our ship reached calmer waters and continued her trip without other notable events. Two days later, we arrived safely at our destination. The barrel incident felt nebulous and distant already, like something we had only dreamed about. Yet, I could not get it out of my mind. I remembered what I had read about those bridges that link different worlds to each other and thought that maybe Elessyos' book was not total fiction. Perhaps it could help me explain this mystery. When I got back home, I began going through the manuscript's pages again, this time paying close attention to all the details. Here is a short summary of its contents:_

_Our world is connected to other realms, located far away in the Universe, through a series of bridges. Nobody can explain why these bridges should exist and how they work. Elessyos assumed they were paths made by the gods for easier traveling between worlds. He had found in several older historical accounts credible descriptions of unusual disappearances of objects, animals, or people. In other situations, strange creatures or even exotic-looking humans would suddenly come into being for a few hours or days in our world, then fade away from sight, as they had never existed._

_Elessyos spent a long time collecting accounts about these events and concluded that a bridge would manifest only under specific conditions that could be determined. Certain types of rocks, particular weather patterns, and a well-defined geometry of the landscape, all seemed connected to these phenomena._

_Based on Thales' observations on the magnets, Elessyos built a primitive compass. It used a lodestone brought from Magnesia, suspended by a thread from a wooden frame. He knew that one of the stone's ends always pointed towards the north. And so, he began monitoring a location where mysterious disappearances supposedly occurred multiple times in the past._

_The place of his choice was an altar on the southern coast of the Black Sea. It was dedicated to Poseidon and close to the shore. Several accounts had been previously recorded there, describing disappearances of food and wine from the offering table before the very eyes of the worshipers. The vanishings always seemed to occur when a thunderstorm was active nearby. The altar itself was a massive cylindrical block made of whinstone, covered on top by three thin sheets of silver, gold. A temple had been built centuries earlier on a neighboring cliff, and a small community of priests and priestesses was living there._

_Elessyos convinced the temple's guardians that he wanted to find a way of direct communication with Poseidon. Hence, he was allowed to set next to the altar his compass and a pendulum that was using a piece of amber. The researcher intended to measure the electrostatic charge of the table and how it changed when a bridge was activated. Of course, he considered electricity and magnetism as being of the same nature, the first temporary, the second permanent. Yet, somehow he felt (and was right about it) that both of them had to be affected by the strange phenomenon that sometimes caused the disappearance of the offerings._

_The scholar discovered on the ground next to the altar the existence of a slowly changing electric field. This variation would sometimes increase the field's strength enough to push his amber pendulum away from the vertical. It had a periodicity of several hours. During the summers, Elessyos moved to live in the temple's neighborhood and made a habit of visiting the place every time he saw a storm coming. He would set the compass and pendulum next to the whinstone block covered by the metal sheets and wait. Then, under a sky sliced by flashes of lightning, he would sit on the grass, patiently watching the food and the wine from the offerings._

_Elessyos' wait took fifteen years. One July evening, when a thunderstorm was brewing nearby, he finally witnessed this unusual phenomenon. The lodestone began to spin back and forth on the suspension thread while the amber pendulum moved to the side, pushed away by the static electricity accumulated on the whinstone block. Then the pendulum slowly moved back and angled in the other direction, pulled towards the altar by the opposite type of electricity from the table-top. While the improvised compass continued to spin back and forth, the pendulum kept leaning alternately towards and away from the table every minute or so, indicating a periodic change in the amount and type of the electricity enclosed there. This behavior probably lasted for a few minutes, then everything that was on the table disappeared without a trace._

_For years and years, Elessyos tried to build a machine that could generate electricity and reproduce at will the conditions encountered on the altar during the disappearance of the offerings, but without success. The knowledge of nature's laws and the technology available during his time were too primitive for such an achievement. His writings were not taken seriously by most of his contemporaries and soon fell into oblivion. However, a few of his disciples gave him the deserved credit and continued to copy his works for future generations._

_We are fortunate that this book was translated into Arabic during the early Middle Ages and that someone took good care of it until our times. I wonder how many more treasures from Antiquity, perhaps even books from the great library of Alexandria, still remain hidden inside humble homes or buried under sand dunes in that part of the world... The Arabs of the past deserve our eternal gratitude for translating and saving the amazing works of the Greeks and returning them to us! It's too sad that the Arabs of today have lost their former glory and have become only a shadow of their former selves. Yet, who knows what the future has in store for them? Maybe a new era of reason and rationality is waiting for them, an era where science and technology are treasured again in their society. But let's get back to Elessyos' book._

_Based on both what he had read and seen with his own eyes, the scholar concluded that these bridges, which connect our world to other realms, are inactive most of the time. They only open during the apparition of a rare category of thunderstorms, when magnetic anomalies (or vortexes of permanent electricity, as he called them) can be measured. The bridges are relatively stable in space, oscillating around fixed locations on Earth. The ground potential in these locations is not exactly neutral. A low positive charge of variable intensity, with a period of a few minutes, could be detected with an amber pendulum when the bridge was active. When the bridge was dormant, the oscillation period would measure a few hours._

_Besides Poseidon's altar, Elessyos discovered two more such places in Asia Minor. One of them was situated near the Parhar Mountains, close to a commercial route of those times. The sage, now in his old age, built a house on top of it, probably hoping to travel someday to another world. There was a note at the end of the manuscript, written by one of his disciples, Seraphios, who mentioned the unexpected disappearance of the scholar during a September evening, in the year 520 before Christ. As we know all too well, the Greeks often liked to exaggerate facts when they fit their views, so we shall probably never know for sure how Elessyos has left this world._

_Times have changed since Elessyos. Our knowledge about the Universe has evolved considerably. Our contemporary technology is way more advanced, and so are our means to detect the bridges that connect our worlds to other realms. Electricity and magnetic field can be precisely measured now, through newly invented instruments._

_For precise measurements of electric fields, Charles-Augustin de Coulomb invented his torsion pendulum in 1777. I used a drawing from his memoir (published in France in 1784) and built an almost identical apparatus. The pendulum was made of an insulating rod with a metal-coated ball suspended by a silk thread tied to its middle. This thread worked like a weak torsion spring. The bar's rotation angle would reflect the force acting on it. In Coulomb's experiment, used to determine how electrical charges interact, this ball would receive a determined quantity of static electricity, then a second charged ball of the same polarity would be brought near it. The two charged balls would repel each other, and the silk thread would be twisted at an angle that could be read on a scale, allowing someone to calculate the force between the balls._

_For my own experiment, I connected the control ball to the ground through a copper wire. The rotating bar was going to be charged with a constant amount of electricity by putting it in contact with an object already electrically charged, something like a patch of leather that had been rubbed with a piece of wool fabric. When setting everything in place, the bar would stay in a neutral position, with no torque on the silk thread. However, if the device was placed in a location connected to another world, I was expecting to measure a non-neutral oscillating ground charge that would propagate to the sphere. This charge would interact with the bar and make the torque slowly increase up to a measurable value. It would then go back to neutral, then move to the opposite direction and so on, with a periodicity of a few hours. Of course, these phenomena were expected to occur only if Elessyos' observations were correct._

_In this spirit, I began searching for places corresponding to the geographical and geological description from Elessyos' book. Traveling around the country for more than three years, I have identified forty-three such possible spots. None of the first thirty-eight displayed the slow oscillation of the electric potential that would suggest the existence of a bridge to a different realm. My list of locations was becoming shorter and shorter, and I was already thinking about having to do another survey. However, good luck smiled at me in the end: the thirty-ninth point had all the necessary qualities._

_It was situated close to the southern coast, in an easy to reach, but relatively secluded area. I bought the property rather cheap and soon proceeded to build a mansion on it. At the same time, I was trying to acquire and read the most recent books discussing electricity. If I could generate flashes of lightning and a rotating magnetic field at will, then perhaps I could reproduce the circumstances needed to activate such a bridge, without having to wait for a thunderstorm that might take many years to come by. The house was finished in a few months, and I began my experiments in earnest._

_After many failures, I found out that a variable electric field can generate a variable magnetic field. This proves that electricity and magnetism really are of the same nature, perhaps we should call it electro-magnetism. I talked about this finding to a few scholars from my city's university in a short presentation, showing them how an electric pulse can destabilize a compass. Unfortunately, I could not explain why and how this phenomenon happened. In the end, my findings didn't generate much interest, and I decided to delay their publishing until I had a better understanding of them._

_Perhaps a person with a mind brighter than mine will be needed in the future to explain how electricity can change into magnetism. Who knows, maybe it's also possible to change a variable magnetic field into a variable electric field, but so far my attempts in this direction weren't successful. Anyway, this is not a big deal, as my current interest is more about testing these bridges than about discovering new laws of nature._

_Using what other people already knew and my own findings, I finally came up with a method to produce both flashes of lightning and a circular magnetic field. After a tremendous amount of work, I succeeded in building the first functional prototype this year. Then, exactly one week ago, an extraordinary thing happened: I could make small objects disappear at will from my laboratory. Where did they go, I cannot tell you. I suppose there is only one way to find out: doing the same experiment on myself. I still have hesitations about where I might end up, but at some point I'm going to try it anyway._

_When you happen to cross the Ocean and come again to our country, please stop by and pay a visit to my new house. I want to show you my extraordinary accomplishments. And, I beg you, don't tell anyone else about this letter. Even my family doesn't know anything about the contents of Elessyos' book. It's still too early to make my recent discoveries public._

_Your dedicated friend,_

_Leon_

♣

Was this the original unsent letter? Or was it a copy? I assumed it was a copy because no date was marked on it. Or perhaps Leon had delayed sending these sheets of paper, expecting to come up with new discoveries soon and intending to include them in the message. The pages could have been written around 1790, shortly before the eccentric scholar's disappearance.

Had this Edward ever received Leon's message? And who was he, anyway? I suppose I'll never know. And did Leon really die during that storm? What if he actually succeeded in making the crossing to Esyon? The more I dug into this story, the deeper the mystery became.

For a while, I considered visiting again the scientist's widow, intending to ask her about Edward and his whereabouts. However, after some thinking, I decided she wouldn't be able to give me any useful information, even if she knew him personally. It seemed he lived on the other side of the Ocean, anyway. Another idea that crossed my mind for a moment was to ask the widow about Elessyos' book. Yet, I already knew pretty much all I needed to know about the bridges connecting our world with the other realm. Also, it was unlikely she had heard from her husband about the mysterious manuscript. So, I chose instead to focus my time and energy on creating the machine that eventually could take me back to the Island.

My initial plan had been to build an electricity generator based on the available drawings. After that, I was going to install everything on the deck of a ship and perform the experiment at the same latitude and longitude where we encountered the magnetic storm back then. Back then, I thought this was enough to help me cross over into the other world. However, Leon's letter made me change my mind. I realized now that finding the precise location of the crossing point was not going to be easy. So, I decided to try a first series of tests on the shore, at least until I could make sure that my device was functional.

Inquiring around, I identified the place where the scholar had bought the property from the southern coast. The incident described by Leon's wife had happened five years earlier. The ruins of the building hit by lightning were still there, surrounded by several old oaks.

I already had a torsion pendulum, built to measure the fluctuations of electricity. I brought it with me when I came to investigate the location, spending a whole day in the area. Apparently, the bridge was still there, right in the middle of the house's damaged walls, the only place where the pendulum began to oscillate slowly, with a periodicity of a couple of hours, as described in the letter. I actually measured it to be in the range of two hours and thirty-five minutes. Moving away from the house, I could still detect this variable electric charge of the ground up to a distance of twenty-five yards. This meant the bridge had a diameter of about one hundred and fifty feet.

♣

The current owner sold me the land with everything on it for a reasonable price, and the building got quickly restored. I had plenty of money to do it, so that was not a problem. Inside my new home in this isolated place, without any other people leaving nearby, I began the construction of my electricity generator using Leon's drawings and notes. I asked several metal and wood craftsmen to build the parts of the machine and deliver them to my house from the shore. Then, I assembled them myself inside a private studio from the mansion.

I installed two turning handles to operate the machine: one from inside, if I wanted to do the crossing myself, another from outside, in case I wanted to send an object to the other realm. The whole enterprise was far from smooth, including many trials and errors, with many parts replaced and remade. More than a year and a half later, I was finally on the verge of achieving success. Now, when I could generate inside the small volume surrounded by the wires of my apparatus conditions similar to the magnetic storm that brought me to Esyon, I knew I was ready to return. Soon after that, my notebook of personal thoughts and impressions became a log again.

♣

_August 2, 1797_ — My electricity generator can only imitate the conditions from a magnetic thunderstorm in a small volume of space, just big enough to fit one person inside. I have already made various objects disappear, but have no idea where they are emerging on the other side of the bridge. I fastened them to the floor with a long rope hoping to pull them back from the other side. It didn't work out. The line was jerked hard and immediately broke. The force acting on it must have been tremendous. Attaching myself with ropes to the floor and checking where the other end of the bridge opens is unlikely to work. My body would get torn to pieces.

I'm worried where I might end up if I try the machine myself. Maybe it's a safer idea to avoid doing this experiment here. It might be safer to put everything on a ship, use the torsion pendulum to identify the bridge on the Ocean, and try to cross over from there. Of course, even the "safer" idea would involve a lot of risks, risks I should like to reduce as much as possible if I want to have a realistic chance of succeeding.

If I can do the experiment near the previous coordinates with the electricity generator on, only my body is going to pass to the other side. The ship will remain in its place, and I shall probably find myself swimming in the open sea, in about the same area where _Excelsior_ had emerged during our expedition. Of course, I would be happy if I could send the whole ship through. However, this would require a generator so big that it would be tremendously expensive to build and impossible to carry over the sea.

Given the situation, having an external and an internal handle is going to prove very useful for my plan. I can send ahead a small boat that would help me stay afloat on the other side until I get to the shore. If the waters are calm, I may only need to keep rowing for a day or two until I reach the Island. I haven't spotted sharks in those waters, so I suppose nothing fierce is going to attack me. Under normal circumstances, I should eventually arrive safely at Gold City, my destination.

So, what is the best course of action for me? Try to cross over into the unknown from inside my home? Or maybe return to the sea and attempt the experiment from the same spot where _Excelsior_ had reached the other realm more than two years ago? Of course, I'm impatient to return, but it's risky to attempt it from here because I don't know where am I going to emerge. On the other hand, the main impediment to the maritime attempt is the high accuracy needed to detect the location. Still, this land bridge from here was very useful for my enterprise: It helped me build and test my machine.

Based on what I read and checked experimentally about the terrestrial bridges, I might have to be within twenty or thirty yards from its center. This is a precision impossible to achieve on the sea, even with the best available instruments. What makes things worse is that we never had a chance to know our position with high accuracy to start with when _Excelsior_ was drawn to the other world. By the most optimistic estimates, the location can be pinpointed with an error of two or three nautical miles. I might have to sail back and forth, combing the water around the known coordinates until my torsion pendulum detects the bridge by measuring a non-neutral charge of the sea water on its location. There is also a chance that I may pass through the region of interest at the moment when the bridge is neutral. This would prevent me from detecting it, and I might have to redo all the passes several times.

With such a vast ocean area to be covered, it may take many weeks until I can find the exact coordinates of the crossing point. Even so, how can I be sure that the maritime bridges are as stable as the ones on land, that they do not change their location in time? What if the bridge is not there anymore? Looking from the bright side, maybe the ocean bridges are also larger and in consequence easier to find than the ones on land. Perhaps it would be enough to pass within two or three hundred yards from the terminus point to detect it.

And so my mind continues to sway back and forth, between the two available options... The crossing from this land location seems much easier to do, it's right here, in front of my eyes. However, I'm worried about where I'm going to emerge on the other side. The sea bridge will most likely take me close to Gold City. Therefore I won't risk arriving in some strange, unfamiliar, dangerous world. Yet, from here, it is so much easier to attempt the crossing...

I need to make a decision soon.

♣

_August 5_ — It's about midnight. Or so it seems, anyway. I just woke up from a fuzzy dream, and now I'm staring at the shadows of the oak branches from the garden, projected onto the ceiling by the moonlight. I can feel a foreign presence nearby. As if someone is watching me. This entity is radiating a feeling of peace and trust. My body is completely numb, and when I think of rising into a sitting position, I can see myself actually lying on the bed, deep asleep. Am I awake or dreaming? At the moment I'm having this thought, I know the Angel has returned.

"You want to go back to the Island," he says from the halo of pure light that surrounds him, skipping any greeting. "You hope to cross over by using the electricity generator. Yet, what are you going to do if the crossing doesn't emerge where you want?"

Of course, I have no answer to his question, a question that has been haunting me for weeks already. So I tell him:

"There is no way for me to know where I am going to emerge until I do it. Also, there is no way to succeed if I don't try to reach the other side of the bridge. I wish I had a better option, but so far I couldn't find it."

"The crossing point here won't take you to Esyon. You'll have to set sail for the same location where _Excelsior_ was caught by the magnetic storm two years ago. Also, if you want to cross to the right place, it's important to channel your thoughts on the destination and free your mind of any material things.

"So, just pay attention to what I'm going to tell you now and follow my instructions: sell everything you have, including your commercial ships, the house in the city, the mansion here, and all your other valuable possessions. Your brig should be the only personal property left. Transform all your fortune into gold and add to it the gold remaining from the Island. Put all of it in a large coffer wrapped in three successive thin layers of silver, gold, and iron. The coffer should be shaped like a cube, with each side twenty-eight inches long. Of course, you can use part of your own gold for the layer surrounding the coffer. Then wrap the coffer in a large coil of wire. The wire needs to have a circular section and be made of silver, with a diameter of one-fifth of an inch. It should be wound into a spiral around the box exactly twenty-three times, covering the sides along the entire length of the coffer.

"There is a small desert island in the south called The Dragon's Island, from a big rock on her shore that is shaped like a dragon head. You must remember it from your navigation classes at the Marine Institute. The island itself is a large rocky outcrop, less than a mile long, inhospitable and sterile. No ships ever visit her. It has a cave on her south-eastern shore, under a tall gray cliff that looks like a cat's head. The cave is hidden under a layer of sand. I suppose you may have to dig for a while before being able to enter it. Nobody else knows about this place. You are going to install the electricity generator inside the cave, put the coffer in the middle, and launch the machine. The coffer is going to disappear."

What the Angel says doesn't make much sense. Why would I want to get rid off all my fortune? However, he helped me before and always showed good intentions. I have no reasons to distrust him this time. So, I retort:

"If this can help me reach the Island, I shall be more than glad to do it. I can come back with an even larger quantity of gold, so I wouldn't even call it a financial loss."

"The gold and its value don't matter. What is important is that you free your mind. Selling your fortune and sending the gold to another realm is the best way to reduce your connections with the past, it's better than giving it for free. With a free mind, your chances to cross into Esyon are going to increase significantly."

"Then I'm fine with it. I'll send the gold away. After I'm done, shall I be ready to cross over?"

"There is one more thing to do. Put all your notes, from the Island and from the time spent here after your return, all the realities that you lived in, described in detail, inside a cubic box eight inches in size. If some parts of your story on the Island are missing, you have to write an elaborate account of them and fill in the existing gaps.

"Add notes until the last moment, including the coordinates of the Dragon's Island cave, what you did with the coffer, and our discussion here. Put them in the box, which has to be built in the same way as the coffer. That means it should be surrounded by three successive thin layers of silver, gold, and iron. Wind five times around the box a silver wire with the same diameter as the one used for the coffer. With the generators back on the ship's deck, you can go to the latitude and longitude where _Excelsior_ 's compass began spinning back and forth more than two years ago and try to cross over. However, don't forget to take the box with you when you start the generator for your crossing."

A moment later, the Angel is gone. I wake up in my bed, drenched in cold sweat. The final part of his indications felt weird. Why not just take the notebook with me as it is? Something tells me the metal layers and the wire loops coiled around the coffer and around the box with my notes are supposed to send them to a specific place. But where? And why? The Angel didn't seem willing to give me more details about it. Now it's already too late to ask him. I think it's best for me to do what he wants. This sounds pretty much like a test of faith. In time, I'm confident I'll also find out the reason for sending my fortune and my notebook away through these bridges.

I expect to be ready for my trip shortly before the end of this month. There is little to be done about writing down a detailed account of my adventures. The gaps in my log have already been filled in and put on paper during the first months after my return from Esyon, with all the words copied into a new notebook.

### chi

Be the butterfly

and then let me be Chuang Tzu's

heart lost in a dream

**Matsuo Bashō**

* * *

_August 20_ — The days seem to pass faster now, as I'm doing my final preparations for a new journey to Esyon. I have already sold my house from the city and moved into the isolated mansion from the southern coast, where the mysterious and invisible land bridge towards an unknown place is located. The sea is less than half a mile away, with _Nivit_ anchored in a gulf nearby.

I'm busy getting the ship ready to cross the ocean while making the final arrangements about selling my remaining possessions. If I want to be done with everything before I leave, I need to sell what's left well below the market price. Well, who cares about money, anyway? I certainly don't.

Do I have a realistic chance to succeed, to go back to Gold City? I don't know, but there is no way to find out, except sailing to the place where the sea bridge links the Ocean to the other realm and running my machine there, with me inside it. Another busy and tiring day is coming to an end. I need some rest.

♣

I'm floating in a blue, transparent liquid. I vaguely remember I've dreamed of such a place before. Where am I? Suddenly, the liquid is pushing me upwards. I touch its surface and reach above its boundary. My lungs are filling with fresh air. The endless ocean surrounds my body, the reflection of the water shining brightly under a cloudless sky.

Foamy waves are splashing into my face and prevent me from seeing clearly. I'm trying to find out if there is any land nearby so I can reach it and rest on the shore. I seem to be wearing only a pair of short pants and have no idea how I have ended up here. Fortunately, the water feels warm. I keep trying to look around me, slowly swimming in a large circle. Far away, the Sun is rising from the red-blue horizon.

Soon, I notice a white rocky platform glittering at the edge of the bright disc, perhaps only one hundred yards ahead. Putting more energy in my hand strokes, I begin to move towards it. The platform rises less than two feet above the sea level, and the contour of a human shape is visible on it. The disc of the rising Sun is still behind the rock, big and dazzling, surrounding it with a blinding halo of light. I can't see who is there, but continue to swim towards that place.

I reach the rock and climb onto the hard surface. Then I walk around the platform's edge until the Sun is not hurting my eyes anymore, and the person standing on the white rock is revealed by its bright rays. And here she is: I can see Nivit standing in front of me, smiling. My love is wearing a long, silvery robe and looks even more beautiful than I remember her.

With my voice trembling with excitement, I cry: "I have finally found you, my dear!"

"Yes, you have," comes her reply. "Yet, it's only in your dream."

Disappointment erupts painfully inside my heart, like a volcano. This is not real, this is only happening inside my mind...

"So it's only a dream after all," I murmur. "Are you well? Where are you now?"

"I'm only a mirror of your imagination," she counters, shrugging. "I can't help you with any information about me. Anything you want to know, you will need to find it in your heart. Still, in your heart, you already feel that I'm alive somewhere, waiting for you. Alberto, I'm so glad to have you near me, but there is no time to stay here, you need to wake up now."

I try to step towards her, but the whole world shatters into millions of pink rose petals. Then everything dissolves and is replaced by a dark blue color that gradually fades to gray. My eyes are opening. I'm back in my bed.

The room is flooded by the pale silvery light coming from a full Moon shining above. For a moment, I think I can glimpse a shadow bouncing up and down in the trees nearby. Despite the night being so quiet and apparently so peaceful, I sense something might actually be wrong. The shadow disappears to the right, in the direction of the room used as my office during the day. I think I hear a window opening. This doesn't look good at all. I have to check what's going on and do something about it.

Without making any noise, I get up from my bed and tiptoe towards the office. I always keep a loaded handgun at hand, in case a thief would want to attack me at night. Barefoot, dressed only in linen shirt and pants used for sleeping, I open the door slowly and slide inside the other room as quietly as possible.

A dark shape is bent over the wooden coffer that contains Leon's documents and the notes from my trip to Esyon, trying to open it. However, I always keep the coffer locked, with the key placed under my pillow at night and in my pocket during the day. Behind the stranger, a window frame has been pushed to the side, allowing him to get in. The shadow, still unaware of my presence, takes out a knife and tries to force the lock open.

I rise my loaded gun and ask in a calm voice: "What are you doing here?"

Startled, the shape freezes for a moment, then slowly turns towards me. The thief is slim and of medium height, entirely dressed in black. A hood covers his head and a scarf hides his nose and mouth, leaving only the eyes visible. He looks at me intensely for a moment, hesitating, not sure what to do. Then he seems to make up his mind, stepping ahead and attacking. Perhaps he thinks I'm not going to shoot. With a quick extension of his right hand, he tries to thrust the knife inside my chest. His move is too rigid, too simple, too obvious for anyone with some experience in hand to hand combat. I decide against killing the intruder. If I can disarm the stranger and tie him up, perhaps I could find out why is he here.

I turn to my right, taking a quick step back and to the side before the knife has time to reach me. The blade flashes in front of my face in an upward stabbing motion. Immediately, I kick the armed hand with my left shin, also upwards. The knife flies through the air and falls on the floor with a clang. I glimpse surprise and fear in the intruder's eyes when I step in and my right elbow hits his hood-covered head. The stranger lets out a grunt of pain and tumbles down on the floor.

I take another step towards the intruder, attempting to grab his arms and pin him face-down to the carpet from the middle of the room. Yet, he immediately comes back to his senses, jumps quickly on his feet, turns around and rushes towards the open window. I plunge after him trying to grab his legs but only succeed in catching the air. One moment later, the thief is gone, leaving me puzzled and alone with my questions.

From now on, the coffer is going to stay next to my bed, with all the windows firmly closed and the door locked while I'm asleep or when I'm not in the building. My servants will also guard the office when I'm not at home, with loaded guns in their hands.

♣

_August 25_ — I couldn't find out who had tried to force open the coffer that night. The only thing left behind by the thief was his knife, an ordinary dagger with no particular characteristics. It could have been bought from any store or market from the city. Also, there was no way to make sure the thief actually knew what was inside my big wooden chest. Perhaps this was just an ordinary burglar who thought he'd find many valuables in my house.

I do not really need the descriptions and drawings of the electrical machines anymore, but now I'm worried into whose hands they might fall after I leave, in case I succeed to cross over to Esyon. I'm going to put all of them inside the metal box full of gold and send everything to the place where the Angel wants this coffer to go. Maybe they will reach the Architect, and he will make a wise decision about what to do with them. Somehow, I feel this might actually be the case. What is he going to do with my gold, I don't know, and I don't really care.

The thief has not returned since the incident that took place five days ago. Perhaps I've scared him badly enough. A second attempt to break in is going be significantly more difficult, even if he brought along a bunch of armed accomplices. My home is now well guarded against anyone who might try to enter it uninvited.

Almost two years have passed since I came back from the Island. Finally, I'm ready for another trip there. If my machine works as expected, I shall cross over soon, back to Gold City. _Nivit_ , my small but fast and sturdy brig, with a crew of twenty-five men I can trust, is going to take me initially to Dragon's Island, then to the same coordinates where _Excelsior_ encountered the magnetic anomaly on June 12, 1795.

The electrostatic machine is already installed inside the cargo bay. I have modified the hold so that the deck above it can be opened wide to be exposed to the Sun's rays. It is imperative for the air to be dry near the generator, or the electric charge won't accumulate on the silk pulley and the metal spheres. Water, even as mist in the air, is a good conductor of electricity and will rapidly dissipate any electrostatic charge nearby. I really hope I'll have sunny weather when I run my machine at sea.

On board, the ground connection is going to be replaced by a long copper wire, with its far end immersed in the ocean's water. I need a calm sea and a sunny day to generate electrical discharges and a magnetic field strong enough to be able to open the bridge. I have finally sold all my possessions and transformed them into one hundred and sixty pounds of gold. Together with the rest of the gold from the Island, they are all now sealed inside the coffer that was built and prepared precisely as the Angel requested.

I expect to find a high humidity inside the cave from Dragon's Island and plan to set up around the generator several dozen torches that can burn for a long time without producing too much smoke. They should make the air drier when I attempt to send the coffer to the other side. I have prepared as well as I could for this trip. Hopefully, I have anticipated all the possible problems that may show up. The departure is set for tomorrow.

_August 26_ — In this weather, we'll probably need about two days to reach Dragon's Island. It's a beautiful summer morning today. The wind is blowing from the stern, and I pray with all my heart that everything works as planned. I have told my men I'm investigating some magnetic anomalies in that area. A good understanding of them should help me pinpoint the location from where a ship could cross towards the Island. Being part of my crew, they will come along with me on my trip to the other realm if I can find a way to make _Nivit_ cross the bridge connecting these two worlds. A trip to the Island is expected to make them very rich, so the men are full of enthusiasm.

Although there is some truth in the purpose of our trip (a purpose kept secret from everyone except _Nivit_ 's crew), I know that my machine is way too small to allow an entire ship to cross over. Nobody knows that all my gold is on board, and nobody has any idea about my real purpose of making this stop at Dragon's Island. To make things less suspicious, I inserted the coffer with the silver wires wound around it into a large spherical shell made of brass. Because the sphere with the coffer inside has a weight of over three hundred pounds, it was mounted on a platform with wheels, making it easier to move around.

The story for my crew is that I have to set the sphere at some distance from the generator and plan to measure the way the magnetic field is changing when I gradually move it towards the electrostatic machine. The changes in the magnetic field are supposed to give me some information about the size and width of the sea bridge connecting our world with Esyon. Leon's documents supposedly have suggested the existence of such an anomaly on Dragon's Island.

Inside the cave, I'm supposed to be able to measure more accurately the intensity of the Earth's magnetic field and any anomalies affecting it, especially of the type that made _Excelsior_ do the crossing to the Island more than two years ago. The electrostatic generator will act as a sensitive and precise "detector." When I'm done with my "measurement," I shall take out the coffer from the sphere and move it inside the generator, for a final set of tests. If the bridge is still in its place, the coffer is going to disappear. Officially, the coffer is filled with lead, which should have about the same weight as gold. Well, my men don't know about the coffer inside the sphere yet.

I intend to "detect" the hidden cave when we sail close to Dragon's Island coast. Then we shall dig out the thick layer of sand and uncover its entrance. The electrical generator and the sphere containing the coffer are going to be carried inside, where I shall start my "measurements" at night. At that time, the absence of the Sun from the sky is supposed to improve the accuracy of my data.

The presence of other people inside the cavern is supposedly going to generate too much interference. Hence, I shall send my men aboard the ship for the night. Then I'm going to take the coffer out and bring it inside the generator to test the functionality of the bridge (in case anyone sees me doing it and raises questions), making it disappear. As long as my people don't know the coffer contains gold, there is nothing to worry about. They will follow my instructions and won't be tempted to take over the ship and steal the fortune deposited inside the box.

_August 28_ — We reached the Dragon's Island this morning, as expected. Soon after _Nivit_ began circumnavigating the shore, I took the torsion pendulum on the deck and "observed" unusual oscillations when we passed the Cat's Head Rock. The anchor was cast, and we set foot on the shore after about fifteen minutes.

We began digging a long trench under the landscape mark mentioned by the Angel until one of the sailor's shovel went all the way through the entrance, falling inside. One hour and a half later, when a large amount of sand covering the cave had been moved away, the hole was enlarged to a size of more than seven feet. It was already afternoon.

The cave was spacious, with the ceiling over ten feet high, reaching horizontally inland for about twenty yards. It had been built by the sea waves' erosion, and its floor was covered with a deep layer of hard, battered sand. The interior was relatively dry and warm, perhaps the rock above was getting heated by the Sun. Still, I suppose the highest tides could reach all the way to the cavern's entrance during powerful storms. Unloading the generator and the sphere from the ship and carrying them inside the cave kept us busy for the rest of the day. My men used two long, thick metal bars to make the generator and the sphere slide through the entrance.

When the generator was brought in, I verified with the torsion pendulum the proximity of the bridge. It was close to the end of the cave. At my indications, my men placed the generator on that spot. A long wire was also brought to connect the generator to the sea outside, used as a neutral reference. By doing so, we avoided digging a hole in the hard floor of the cave. The sphere, mounted on the wheel cart about ten yards away from the generator, was now waiting for my tests.

At sunset, everything was ready. I thanked my men for the hard work and dismissed them until the next day. I said I needed to make a set of precise measurements of the magnetic field anomalies during the night. I didn't want anybody else near the cave before sunrise, because every additional human presence would interfere with the accuracy of my data. The men were more than happy to comply.

_August 29, 4 am_ _—_ During the evening, I took several series of pretended measurements with the torsion pendulum and hand compass, especially outside the cave. From there I could discreetly check if anyone was spying on me. Then I went back into the underground chamber and got some rest for a few hours. I woke up at two and ignited a large circle of torches around the generator, to see better and reduce the moisture in the air. I pushed the cart with the large metal sphere inside the machine and unloaded the coffer from it.

The generator was covered by a large canvas, to keep away the humidity from the air. The fabric also prevented a clear view of what I was doing inside the machine in case someone was spying on me from near the cave's entrance. I brought the sphere next to the spot inside the generator and let the coffer slide out of it along the metal bars previously used by my crew until it was comfortably placed inside the central chamber of my apparatus. Then I sat down and got some rest for a few minutes, writing in my notebook a short description of my work.

It's almost five in the morning when I write these lines. The coffer, with the silver coil wrapped around it, is ready for its final trip now. The air inside the cave, warmed by torches, seems reasonably dry. I begin rotating the exterior handle of the machine, and the air fills with static electricity. Soon, I can smell a mildly stinging fragrance, similar to what can be felt when a storm is brewing nearby. I can hear crackling noises and can glimpse faint bluish sparks around the silk pulley.

After a couple of minutes, the crackles become more intense. Small electrical discharges connect intermittently the two spheres, each time for a fraction of a second. The torsion pendulum is slowly turning back and forth, the compass needle is spinning rapidly. The bridge is activating inside the small volume of space from the middle of the generator. I keep going for another half a minute. The coffer should be gone by now. I stop turning the handle, lift the edge of the canvas, and take a peek inside the apparatus. The coffer is still there. I have failed to send it away.

_5 a.m._ _—_ Obviously, this is is not working as it should. I sit down and think for a few minutes about the differences between this situation and my successful experiments on the land. Soon I find out that a tiny difference does exist. Apparently, there is something wrong about the orientation of my electrostatic generator. Its alignment relative to the Earth's magnetic field looks switched by about ninety degrees compared to my previous successful tests. There is a chance the Earth's magnetic field, as weak as it is, has disrupted the continuity of the bridge due to the different orientation of my device.

I push the coffer along the sturdy bars back inside the sphere and move it away from the generator. Then I use one of the bars as a lever and lift a corner of the wooden support of my apparatus, rotating the machine by a few degrees with every move until its alignment is the same as during my successful attempts from a few weeks ago. Then I slide the coffer back inside and turn the handle again, with the edge of the canvas lifted, so I can see what's going on there. The metallic spheres charge once more with energy. A few seconds later, electrical discharges appear between them for a second time. The coffer inside flickers, as if getting ready to disappear, but remains there.

After a minute, I realize I've made another mistake. The coffer is surrounded by a cylindrical coil: that means its orientation also matters. I move the box, adjusting the coil cylinder to be parallel with the magnetic north-south direction, then go back to the outside handle, setting the generator in motion for the third time. After just a few turns, the coffer vanishes without a trace. My muscles hurt a bit from all the pushing and pulling, but my work here is finally finished.

♣

I'm seated on a low cushion, in a spacious room that looks somewhat familiar. There is a large Go board in front of me made of kaya wood, with black and white stones covering some of its intersections. It seems I'm playing with white. The game is already in its middle stage, and no one seems to have any clear advantage, although black's position looks slightly better to me. I have a big group with no eyes in the center that is in danger to be captured. It has to get connected with my group from the lower-left corner. However, the path needed to link them looks tricky, and I'm still unsure where to place my next stone. I need more time to think.

I lift my gaze for a moment, curious to see the expression of my opponent. To my surprise, the person sitting on the other side of the board is Mei Hsing. She is wearing a long golden robe, like the members of the Chinese Imperial Family. We are playing this game inside her store. Then Mei Hsing says:

"Well, what do you think? A bridge over a wide strait needs a strong supporting base in the middle. Why don't you examine the board more carefully?"

I turn my eyes back towards _Goban_ , but the board is gone, replaced by a blue sea. My two groups have become two large islands. The black stones have turned into ships that are sailing back and forth, preventing me from building a bridge that would connect my land masses. However, I see an empty spot in their middle and cast my stone there. A bridge begins to grow from it towards the two islands until it touches both of them. Now, the two places are connected. The ocean and the islands fade away. The scenery turns back into a board of Go. My groups are safely linked. There are still gaps, but no matter what black tries now, a path remains always open for a full connection.

"See? It was not so hard," says Mei Hsing. "You only need to go north-south, and your ship will reach the bridge soon. Congratulations, you've just won the game!"

I try to say something in reply, but I feel a hand gently squeezing my shoulder from behind. When I turn around, the room has vanished. I'm alone on a narrow beach, facing the sea. The Sun is rising from the fuzzy horizon. It is a bit larger and paler than how it should be. I realize I'm back on the Island. The white towers from Gold City are shining bright nearby. Again, I feel a hand shaking my shoulder from behind, then my eyes open inside the cave from the Dragon's Island. I see the captain's face in front of me, displaying an inquisitive expression:

"Have your night measurements gone all right, sir?"

"Yes, everything is fine," I say. "Let's go and test the bridge from the middle of the ocean."

♣

_2 p.m._ _—_ My men came back to the shore at sunrise and found me deeply asleep. They woke me up at 8 a.m. and were glad to learn I have succeeded in obtaining precise data of the magnetic field. I told them there was a bridge here, too, and that I have tested it, sending through it the lead from inside the sphere.

They wanted to see how the bridge worked, so I put a big boulder inside the generator and made it disappear right in front of their astonished eyes. Then a few men asked why I had to send the lead through the bridge. I decided to disclose part of my secret. I told them about the Angel from my dream and about his request to send from here a coffer with a coil of silver wrapped around it. Then I said the lead was very precious in their world. I had sent it off as a gift to the Architect of that realm, as I was told.

The Architect could detect the presence of our ship near the bridge from the ocean and intended to help me cross to the Island from the small chamber inside the generator. Once I had crossed over and found him on the other side, I was hoping he will assist _Nivit_ and her crew to follow me.

"And what should we do if you cross over from inside the generator and nothing occurs after that?" asked the captain.

For the last few months, I had been worried about having people prevent me from trying to cross back to Esyon. Now I was as close as anyone could ever be to returning there. There was no point in keeping my plan secret anymore. So I said:

"Wait for me in the same place for one hour. If nothing happens, then you have two options: either improvise some small boats, send them through the generator to the other side, and then cross yourselves one by one, or come back to the port and return some other time. In my cabin, you will find a few sheets of paper about how these bridges between worlds work and how to detect and cross them. If I can make _Nivit_ go through, we'll all come back very, very rich. If I don't come back to help you, this secret won't matter to me anymore, and you will be free to use it the way you see fit."

After my short discourse, the faces of the captain and the crewmen went pale. The things didn't look as they thought initially. We were so close, but also so uncertain of success. They knew I wanted to go back to find Nivit, as my story was well-known to the whole crew, but nobody had realized until now that I was going to have to cross the bridge alone, ending up on the other side most likely in the middle of the ocean.

We moved the sphere and the generator back to the ship and prepared to continue our trip. In the early afternoon, we were ready to depart. At 1 p.m. _Nivit_ raised anchor and set sail for the location where _Excelsior_ had encountered the mysterious magnetic storm, more than two years ago. We are going to sail north for three or four days until we reach the place.

♣

_September 2, 12 p.m. —_ The coordinate measurements indicate we are on the right spot, or, in any case, very close to it. It's a sunny day, and the Ocean is almost as calm as a mountain lake. I ask my crew to wrap up most of the sails. Our speed slows down immediately to about three knots.

Using the water's surface as neutral ground, I test its electric charge with the torque pendulum and find nothing. The water is neutral, as expected. A single sail is left unfurled, and the ship's speed is maintained to less than two knots. I'm getting close to the moment of truth. Can I really find the crossing point with my primitive instruments? We move on a north-south straight line, as suggested by my dream, while I continue to watch the pendulum. I have a strange inner feeling that the Architect might actually be helping us for real. Who knows, we might just be going to the desired location. I say prayer after prayer, hoping my intuition is right this time.

One hour later, the pendulum turns slightly to the side, detecting a modification of the ocean's electric charge. Was this a matter of pure luck? Is the diameter of the bridge larger than a mile, or maybe the Angel or the Architect succeeded in guiding me here in a subtle way, below my threshold of conscious perception? It doesn't matter anymore, I have arrived at my destination and need to get ready for my trip.

All sails are stowed. _Nivit_ is immobile now relative to the sea, with the prow turned south. I suppose we are still being pushed away from the right spot by marine currents, but they are too slow to be easily detected, hence unlikely to change our location significantly before I start my generator. Hopefully, the ship will stay close to the bridge until late afternoon.

I order my men to open the trapdoors from the cargo bay, then wait for about half an hour, until the Sun rays evaporate most of the moisture still present in the air. At around 2 p.m., when the cargo room is dry, I close them back and prepare for my crossing.

Will my crew be tempted to use the generator when I'm gone? Soon after I see myself in the middle of the waves, I might hear their voices calling from behind. Yet, perhaps not all of them are going to risk this crossing.

In a sealed envelope, I gave the captain of my ship clearly written instruction about what to do if I happen to vanish during the trip. _Nivit_ should sail back to the port and be given into the care of _Excelsior'_ s former captain (now also running a flourishing trading business since he has retired from the navy) until I come back. However, this approach was valid before I told them my secret. Now, I'm not sure what my men are going to do. Unlike me, they haven't been there, they can't be sure about what to expect to find near the Island. I can only hope that those who remain on board will follow my request. Yet now, when I'm so close to succeeding, this doesn't seem to matter anymore. If my men take the ship back, fine. And if they don't, who cares?

Before making the crossing myself, I place a tiny boat, crafted especially for this trip, in a standing position in the center of my electricity generator. The boat's shape is oval, it has a pair of small oars, and is just large enough to carry a single person. It should help me stay afloat and move faster over the waves until I reach the Island. There is not enough room for both the boat and myself inside the machine, so I have to send it out first.

From outside, I turn the handle for a while until I hear the familiar crackle of the electrical sparks dancing around the metal spheres. My men are looking intensely at the generator. A few moments later, the boat is gone.

I write a final note in my log and put it inside the metal box. With my heart beating like a drum, I move into the small chamber from the middle of the generator and proceed to turn its interior handle. The sparks are flowing above and around me while the variable magnetic field makes the needle of a small compass from my hand spin rapidly. Oh, God, please help me succeed! I set the box on the floor, next to me, with the coil surrounding it aligned to the north-south direction. Then I begin to rotate the handle again.

### psi

_Mirrors are never perfect._

**Seraphios**

* * *

_June 11 —_ Our journey has been quiet and peaceful so far. The sea is calm, we have a steady wind from the stern and hope to reach our destination in three days. This afternoon, a group of eight dolphins escorted the ship for about thirty minutes, jumping in and out of the water, sometimes almost up to the height of the gunwale. I have always felt strange seeing the dolphins being so friendly towards us, humans.

As the second lieutenant on board _Excelsior_ , I am in charge of the crew's shifts, the weather observations, and any science-related events that could be of interest during our expedition. However, I don't expect to see anything unusual during this short and routine trip.

_June 12, 10 a.m. —_ I have just been proven wrong about my previous log entry. At sunrise, the navigation compass began to spin back and forth, becoming totally ineffective for navigation. It seems we have encountered a local magnetic anomaly and are still under its influence. There is no shoreline in sight. All we can do is keep the helm straight and use the position of the Sun as a reference for our orientation. However, the Sun is going to soon disappear behind a compact layer of gray clouds, making our task significantly more difficult. Bursts of wind are intermittently filling our sails from random directions. The captain has ordered the chip log launched from the stern, for a speed estimate.

_1 p.m. —_ Thunderclouds are gathering from the east. They are pushed by the wind towards us and look threatening. The sea is still calm, but the incoming storm cannot be avoided. Fortunately, the compass has stabilized back.

_2 p.m._ — The crew is getting ready to face the storm, stowing the upper sails and firmly securing with ropes everything on the deck. The sky is turning dark, but the sea is still unusually calm, with almost no waves.

"I see something looking like a small boat at starboard, about two miles away!" shouts the man on the topgallant platform.

"Change course to its location!" orders the captain.

The ship makes a turn towards starboard and draws a large, white arc of foam over the quiet ocean surface, moving now towards the unknown craft. About ten minutes later, we encounter a fragile rectangular box floating on the deep-blue water, its outer surface covered with sewn patches of leather. Pieces of canvas painted in black (sails?) and fragments of rope are spread around, gently shaken by the liquid ripples. Next to the box, I spot an even smaller, oval boat, just large enough to carry a single person, dancing empty on the waves created by _Excelsior_ 's approach.

Dressed in a dark green robe, a young woman sits alone inside this strange rectangular platform, shining like a star under the darkening sky. She looks calm and proud like a sea goddess. The woman is watching us intently as if she had been waiting for us. I'm still too far away to see her clearly, but the stranger appears to have long black hair, a beautiful oval face with pale skin, big eyes with arched eyebrows, a delicate, petite nose, and full, red lips. I can't make out the color of her eyes from this distance, but somehow I already know it has to be black.

Her arched neckline connects to a body of perfect proportions, at the same time slender and muscular. And I don't know why, but it seems to me that I have seen her before. Or perhaps I have dreamed of her?

As the starboard side of our ship comes close to her rectangular raft, a rope ladder is lowered by two sailors. The woman grabs it with a firm hand and slowly climbs towards our deck, barefoot and with a small backpack hanging from her shoulders. My feet move by themselves towards the beautiful stranger. When she is almost done with her climbing and touches the gunwale, my hand reaches out and pulls her on board. She throws me an intense gaze, and I instantly feel drunk and dizzy from her ethereal charm.

Reaching inside her backpack, the woman produces a small metal box. Without hesitation, she smiles and gives it to me, as if we knew each other for a long time. I let the box rest on my right palm for a moment, then lift the lid and find a notebook inside. Its pages are written in small letters, with a pencil, and it looks a lot like my own notebook. I turn the cover and let my eyes fall on the first page. The writing has a striking resemblance with my own handwriting. In fact, it's identical. And the text begins:

June 11 — Our journey has been quiet and peaceful so far. The sea is calm, we have a steady wind from the stern and hope to reach our destination in three days. This afternoon, a group of eight dolphins escorted the ship for about thirty minutes, jumping in and out of the water, sometimes almost up to the height of the gunwale. I have always felt strange seeing the dolphins being so friendly towards us, humans.

As the second lieutenant on board Excelsior, I am in charge of the crew's shifts, the weather observations, and any other science-related events that could be of interest during our expedition. However, I don't expect to see anything unusual during this short and routine trip.

June 12, 10 a.m. — I have just been proven wrong about my previous log entry. At sunrise, the navigation compass began to spin back and forth, becoming totally ineffective for navigation. It seems we have encountered a local magnetic anomaly and are still under its influence. There is no shoreline in sight, all we can do is keep the helm straight and use the position of the Sun as a reference for our orientation. However, the Sun is going to disappear soon behind a compact layer of gray clouds, making our task significantly more difficult. Strong bursts of wind are intermittently filling our sails from random directions. The captain has ordered the chip log launched from the stern, for a speed estimate.

1 p.m. — Thunderclouds are gathering from the east. They are pushed by the wind towards us and look threatening. The sea is still calm, but the incoming storm cannot be avoided. Fortunately, the compass has stabilized back.

With a trembling hand, I close the notebook and put it back in the box. Unable to speak from astonishment, I raise my eyes towards the strikingly beautiful woman. I want to ask her: "Who are you?" but my lips can't move, don't want to move, because I know somewhere deep inside my heart that I have met her before and that she must be someone very close, very special to me.

Vague shadows of memories are coming from nowhere, flying inside my head like startled birds, too weak to make up their own words but too strong to be ignored. For a moment, I seem to be in the middle of a giant whirlpool where several parallel lives of mine converge towards my eyes in dazzling spirals of shadow and light.

A breeze of air brings me back to reality. The dizziness is fading. I can see my own reflection in her beautiful, big, black eyes. And then, even deeper inside, her own reflection in my eyes. And again, even deeper, my own reflection, then her own reflection, then my reflection once more, alternating and going all the way to infinity. Mirror after mirror after mirror, like the image of a heart reflecting itself. The woman smiles again and says in a pleasant, musical voice, pronouncing clearly the words from our language with a perfect native accent:

"I told you, Alberto, that you will find me again!"

My hands are shaking, and the giddiness returns. The astounded crew has formed a big, silent circle around us. I turn my eyes upwards and breathe in deeply. Something impossible to put in words has changed around me. The air feels different, smells different. Above, the dark clouds are moving away fast, shredded by high winds. They are dissolving, leaving behind a dark-blue sky of a cosmic depth.

For a few moments, it's quiet, so quiet that I can hear my heart and hers beating in unison as if both have just become one. The ocean, the ship, the rest of the crew watching us with curiosity, everything has frozen in a supreme, ephemeral connection with eternity.

Then, suddenly, an unusual rain of fragile white silken threads starts falling from the now-serene sky.

### Epilogue:

### OMEGA

### Fragments from the Architect's Log

###

_A gateway towards the future has to cross sometimes the meadows of the past._

**Elessyos of Miletus**

* * *

_Polidor 112900 —_ The fabric of space-time is getting restless. Chaotic oscillations are tearing it apart. Lines of Universe are converging, fusing together. Four-dimensional spheres are becoming spheres. Spheres are turning into circles. Circles are transforming into dots. The dots are fading away to become void.

And so, the matter, manifested as both mass and energy, is pouring out of its existence in thin spirals of light and shadow where the past, present, and future converge to the ultimate Singularity. The mirrors are breaking. Everything is becoming one again.

The journey is closing onto itself. This is the end of time and space, a point where the Universe has become so old that nothing new can happen anymore. This is the edge, the limit, the final frontier. It is the death of movement, the death of all the stars and galaxies, the death of everything still left to wander through the ether, the death of atoms, nuclei, and quarks.

Yet, a fragile presence is still lingering in here, a shadow of a shadow that doesn't want to go away. It is us, the undecided, the ones who wish to continue the game of black and white, the ones not strong enough, not pure enough, not confident enough to step through the final crossing point. Not yet, anyway. Not now, not here.

Time is decomposing. Space is dissolving. There is no time beyond Time and no space beyond Space. Nothing that has ever been created can pass to the other side of this all-enclosing door. From here, only the realm of the uncreated, endless, all-powerful, indivisible Creator reigns supreme. Meanwhile, on our side of the mirror, the causality laws are getting broken more and more frequently. Soon, everything will disappear, will plunge into nothingness in a spectacular explosion of light. Then, even the light will die out. How much longer can we delay our inevitable fate?

_Polidor 115567 —_ Most entities still possessing a mind, a reason, an ego, have already crossed the boundary, returning to the Great Beginning. The fabric of the space-time surrounding us is gradually melting. It is shattering into tiny fragments, collapsing onto itself, becoming an almost infinite Klein bottle. The whole Universe, or anyway, what's still left of it, will be soon nothing else but a giant mirror looking upon itself.

Soon, everything that's left inside this space-time, everything that can be still located and described through words, numbers, or music, will go back to the Origin, to the all-engulfing Singularity. Yet, those of us who aren't ready for this final trip are searching for the last viable geodesics that can avoid being subject to this implacable law. We are looking for cosmic lines to lead us to another space and time, where/when we could start anew without crossing the Great Singularity.

A bridge, a quantum tunnel to connect us to a much younger and more dynamic Universe is required for our success. We need, we want, we hope for a simple, unsophisticated world where we could learn how to be ourselves again.

_Gonden 4650 —_ After long and tiring exploration trips, we have discovered a geodesic curve that seemed capable to take us away from there, away from then. We used almost all our remaining energy resources to leave that place and began moving along it.

The slide along the twisted line from the moribund Universe took us farther and farther from the Frontier. In the end, we reached a metastable region of the past filled with light, repleted with galaxies, beaming with life. We wandered on giant elliptical trajectories for a while, seeing stars and planets being born and dying, civilizations flourishing and declining. After a period of waiting, we reduced our speed and chose a small region from the arm of a spiral galaxy where the fabric of the space-time was almost flat.

Future and past have fused into a new present, and here and now we are, ready to continue our game of black and white. Several blue planets with continents and oceans are within our reach. They are unbelievable primitive but also strikingly beautiful. Their inhabitants are still using spaceships to travel from one star to another. Sound waves used for words and phrases make up their standard method of communication. They have social groups and cities, arts and sciences, religions, and technologies.

Here, we can finally return to our roots, to our origins. However, we have to do it quickly, before we change this place too much; before the causality laws are broken everywhere and even our hypersphere collapses into nothingness, swallowed by a past that still does not belong to us.

_Gonden 316 —_ Two worlds very much alike are chosen for this transition. One has a single sun, the other is revolving around the larger star of a double system. Our connection with both planets is still intermittent. Our own artificial, multidimensional world built to prepare us for them is still unfinished and unstable. Flashes of future are occasionally visible, but their spread can be kept now under control.

_Alfior 293 —_ More and more of us are moving inside the bridge's antechamber, waiting to cross over. Our transformation is slow but irreversible. This is our path, as there is no other way to start anew.

We are going to learn their way of communication and forget our own. We are going to embrace new concepts, new ways of thinking, a new way to see and understand the Universe. Soon, our advanced knowledge about science and technology will be thrown away, with no language to understand them. Soon, we shall forget our ends and return to the initial cycle. Soon we are going to be like them. Soon we shall be indistinguishable from them. Soon we are going to become them. Soon we shall be them, and they will be us.

_Alfior 197 —_ The bridge to the double-sun planet has stabilized. We can start a new life and rebuild our civilization from a different set of roots. Meanwhile, the connection with the single-star world is still fuzzy, yet we need it as a backup in case things don't go as expected inside the double-star system. It is going to be an alternative, a second choice for most, a first choice for some of us, including myself.

The laws of causality are still breaking down at random intervals in the vicinity of the single-star planet. However, occasional short visits to its surface are already possible. The fabric of space-time has a reasonable degree of elasticity. Any perturbations below a threshold level are going to be absorbed and neutralized at a larger scale. Still, it's best if we can maintain a cautious approach. A wrong step would immediately send us into oblivion and them onto an unknown, dangerous path. We have to be careful not to draw too much attention on ourselves and, even more important, not to change the course of their civilization. There is still much to learn, and there is even more to forget.

_Engder 134 —_ Orbiting around this world with a single sun under a protective invisibility cloak, we could look in detail at their continents and oceans, their mountains and forests, their animals and plants, their cities and people. Taking the bipedal shape of the natives, I've wandered on those strange realms for a long time. There, I could observe their rudimentary, unsophisticated civilization and its raw, wild beauty. Soon, nothing was more amusing than to begin communicating among ourselves through vocal messages in some of the many codes used by the locals.

Right now, as I am recording these lines, the others are crossing through the Gate of Transformation, one by one. They are leaving our hypersphere, beginning to look like the species from the single sun planet, transforming into them, becoming them.

I shall follow my people soon. Nevertheless, my transformation is going to be incomplete for a long time to come. I am the one condemned to KNOW, even later, because someone still has to guard the stability of the local space-time fabric. I am the one who has to keep the architecture of our structures stable until we shan't need them anymore. I am the Architect.

In the meantime, everybody who hasn't already gone to the double sun planet has settled down in a new realm of their choice, built inside a bubble with coordinates parallel to the space-time lines of the single sun world and linked to a region many thousands of light years away. We do not interact with them directly most of the time. Yet, our structures and the surface of their planet are actually very close to each other in terms of hyper-distance. In some locations, even moderate surges of electrical charges and fluctuating magnetic fields can activate bridges. Bridges that can be crossed.

_Engder 115 —_ We continue to push our meta-worlds back in time. We have to do this because there is no way to fully integrate our individuals into their society if that society is advanced enough to send spaceships to other planets and stars. Although at cellular level we are now indistinguishable from these people, even sharing the double-helix molecular structures that host their genetic information, we need an even more primitive civilization, where we could simply walk among the local populations, mix with them, be like them, and become them without ever rising any suspicion, without ever risking changing their local history.

Inside our structured realms, the others still wanted to maintain a sense of unity and decided to use the same code for communication. They began learning this type of talk designed by an eye physician during the industrial era of the single sun planet, an unusual case of an engineered language that had gained some popularity during the following decades and centuries. He created it as an auxiliary communication tool, to people from the whole world easily understand each other on almost equal terms. I was initially a bit surprised by their choice but soon came to appreciate it, adopting the language myself.

This so-called International Language is regular and elegant. Our new minds needed only weeks to acquire and master it. Nevertheless, this code is more than capable of expressing the most complex ideas. On top of that, its structure allows us to build concepts that go beyond the existing communication codes. There are words that someday, when the Universe is dying again, may be needed for our further evolution back to the point from where we departed if we should choose to avoid the final Singularity once more. When that time returns to us, what shall we do? Are we going to run again towards the past, or are we going to end the game of black and white, meet the Creator, and become one with Him?

_Gelmit 90 —_ The life in our multidimensional bubbles of space-time has stabilized. Our structured realms have expanded to their projected size. Their external appearance is now indistinguishable from any typical terrestrial planets. We, the last ones remaining here, are almost ready for the total transformation and integration into the local civilizations. A few have already crossed the boundary separating us from their natural worlds, but most of us are not ready yet. The ones who are still here still can't avoid the energy cycles that are generated by our internal mechanism of rejuvenation.

_Astior 67 —_ We have succeeded. Everything works and behaves as hoped, as expected, as desired. The local, artificial framework of space-time does not suffer any more distortions now. The connecting bridges are stable in both worlds, and the majority of us are crossing over. Yet, some began to enjoy this adventure to its fullest and want to expand it. They are working to open bridges for other, more distant worlds. Sliding along freshly discovered, subtle lines of Universe, they travel to new locations, millions, billions of light-years away.

_Astior 1 —_ The whole Universe, even though far from dying right now, is in fact shaped like an almost infinite Klein bottle. All of us are rapidly reaching the end of our transformation. Soon, I shall also erase from my memory what all the others have already forgotten long ago when they have begun their new existences. Here, at the end of the journey, we have finally closed the loop and discovered that, after avoiding the Great Singularity and sprouting once more from the new Origin, there is nobody on the other side but ourselves.

This is our story. This is how everything spread and converged back to the initial stage. This is how everything continued. And here and now, this is how everything is flowing, like the tumultuous waters of a mountain river in the spring. I am the last one left, now, here, in front of the Gate.

My feet are approaching the crossing point. This is the end of my mission. Past and future are fusing into the eternal present, and I am preparing to step through, towards a new beginning!
__

_  
_

_The wise man looks into space and does not regard the small as too little, nor the great as too big, for he knows that there is no limit to dimensions._

**Chuang Tzu**

### Afterword

Dear Reader,

Here we are, you and I, at the end of this journey. However, for as long as this Universe will continue to exist, after every so-called end, another end can loom even farther away, in the same manner as every beginning can hide another beginning before it. The frontiers, the boundaries, are always in our minds. They are only perceived as such to be reached and conquered. And sometimes to be ignored. This quest has no end for as long as there will exist "something" instead of "nothing," for as long as a Universe will manifest somewhere.

The first version of this story grew into a draft during a warm summer, taking most of its energy from the mountains that surrounded my home. It got mixed with the rustling of the birch trees, the scent of the evergreen forests, and the sweat radiating from the daily farm work. I used to sleep in a tent, next to the bank of the river flowing nearby. What I had intended to write was a collection of short stories, most of them inspired by my dreams. "Butterfly's Dream" was supposed to be the fourth on the list.

However, while I was crafting my book, my fictional characters began to display a will of their own, modifying and extending the initial plot way beyond what I initially had in mind. As the story progressed, I couldn't say for sure anymore whether I was the one writing it or if the story was now penning my own life. The adventures of Alberto and Nivit expanded more and more, until they engulfed the first three short stories, my tent, and finally even the mountain peaks surrounding my house and my village. With every page added up to those already written, I encountered new surprises from the unexpected turns taken by my tale. I was becoming more and more curious to find out how was it going to end. The end, when it finally came to life, caught me by surprise...

Some days later, when I already was in the process of reviewing the first draft, I found attached to the inside fabric of my tent, near the entrance, the empty cocoon of a butterfly. Had my story made a caterpillar go through its metamorphosis next to my sleeping spot? Or perhaps the emergence of a butterfly so close to me influenced my subconscious thoughts, and ultimately shaped the course of my novel? Lacking any better explanation, I sincerely believe the connections between our minds and the outside world are often more complex, more profound than we think.

"Butterfly's Dream" is a book that will probably generate more questions than answers. It never planned to do otherwise. It's a book where two entirely different cultures come in contact. While our own civilization continues to climb the bumpy path of science and technology, our questions about the existence of other intelligent beings in the Universe might someday come closer to an answer. If we are not alone, how are we going to see them? What if the stereotype scenarios involving either benevolent or hostile creatures descending from huge ships that travel across the Galaxy are not going to happen? What if the reality itself, perhaps controlled up to a certain level by entities from outside our world, is actually going to get adjusted to our level of perception and our type of technology?

"Butterfly's Dream" is also a book that attempts to probe the boundary between real and imaginary, between what is inside and what is outside us. I believe this boundary is fuzzier than it seems at the first sight. It's very likely that what we call "reality" has more than one side, more than one way of perception. Maybe the past is not always frozen and immutable, perhaps the future is not always blurry and widely open to change. As we begin to better understand the secrets of the Universe, from the Laws of Kepler to gravitation, from the Newtonian physics to Einstein's relativistic fabric of the space-time, from quantum gravity to dark matter, we might eventually find out that time itself and the very idea or reality are not what they seem to us right now. Perhaps then my own story won't seem so strange after all.

There are a couple of references worth mentioning as inspirational resources:

First comes "The Book of Chuang Tzu," the famous collection of Taoist anecdotes and fables written in China around the 3rd century BC. The short text where Chuang Tzu's dream of being a butterfly was the main inspiration for the title of my novel and for the story itself. I had several translations available, including the one by Burton Watson from 1968 (accessible online for free) and the one by Martin Palmer from 1995. However, in the end, I decided to use my basic knowledge of Chinese characters and created my own versions of the short fragments included in my book. I have done this by re-translating and adapting quotes from the original version, posted online by the Chinese Text Project (http://ctext.org/zhuangzi). For the Chinese names, I have opted for the Wade-Giles transliteration, despite being less accurate than the modern Pinyin system, because it was closer to the way these names used to be written in the Western World in the 18th or 19th centuries.

For the game of black and white mentioned in the final chapter, I have employed ideas from "The Book: On the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are" by Alan Watts (1966). For the concepts describing the illusion of the ego and the Zen meditation techniques, I used my personal experience in Zen meditation combined with ideas from the book "Vrai Zen" ("True Zen") by Taisen Deshimaru (published for the first time in France in1969). I don't know about any English version of this work, but the main ideas of the Japanese master can also be found in "The Way of True Zen" (published for the first time in English in 2002).

Haiku poems by Matsuo Bashō were inserted as quotes at the beginning of two chapters. The Japanese originals were available online at http://www2.yamanashi-ken.ac.jp/~itoyo/basho/haikusyu/Default.htm. I have made here full use of my decent knowledge of Japanese to do the translations myself, also respecting the 5-7-5 syllables metric typical for a classical haiku (reflecting the 5-7-5 morae metric from the original poems).

Linguistic relativity and the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis are lightly touched in the final chapter. There are many resources on this topic, both online and offline. Hence, I won't insist here on any references.

About the language spoken by the natives from the Island, some readers might have already recognized it. For those who haven't, the phrases and words scattered throughout the story and its short description from the last chapter should give them sufficient hints to find its real name with an online search. Today, many people use this language on a daily basis, and their number continues to grow.

I already have in mind a sequel to this volume under the title "Chrysalis" and hope to have it ready for publication within a reasonable amount of time.

For critical comments and suggestions, you can find me at the following web addresses:

https://twitter.com/nordastelo

https://www.facebook.com/mcghilea.

A note about the cover: I have modified and used here two images under CC0 license from pixabay.com. Although the CC0 license does not require attribution, I thought it fair to give credit to the following users for their work: _Clker-Free-Vector-Images_ for the butterfly and _WikiImages_ for the background. For the props (also under CC0 license) used in the central image, I want to thank _Elvaerwyn_ and _sonntag78_ from the MakeHuman community.

### Thanks

On the long path I had to walk until this text looked satisfactory, there were individuals who helped and encouraged me to keep going until I reached the end of my current journey.

Before anyone else, I am most indebted to Chris Retter, who had the kindness to go over my chapters, finding mistakes that had escaped my own checks and giving me useful tips about how to further improve the text. Without him, the quality of my writing would be significantly lower.

I also owe a lot to another close friend, George Lungu, who showed me how to fix my style and correct my mistakes when I was approaching the final draft of my novel.

Then, I am deeply grateful to Akiko Ishida: my first reader and one of the inspiration sources for my story. Without her, the adventures of Alberto and Nivit would have ended sooner.

My gratitude goes to another two close friends who have read an early draft of my book and came up with helpful suggestions and critical observations. I want to thank them for making this story better: Cristian Stelea and Matei Hutopilă.

Important tips and encouragements came later from Gabriel Mititelu, his wife Kris, and their children: Cindy and Sandy.

I owe a lot to my friends who have read an improved version of my draft and helped me with pertinent and useful suggestions: Marcela Angela, Dorina Costea, Marița Enache-Pommer, and Denisa Tudor.

I also want to thank Lucian Merișca, Ștefan Costescu, Daniel Amăriuței, Ștefan Emil Ionescu, Codrina Cozma, Nicole Jennings, Dan Relu Coruț, Nicolae Macovei, Vicky Chu, Bogdan Romocea, Victor Motrescu, Andrei Trandaf, Lili Florea, Gabriela Alistar, and Luiza Buzenchi for their insightful opinions.

A few more friends have helped me with useful tips for the cover: Georgiana Alexandra Atasiei, Thomas Rohde, Ovidiu Livadariu, Petronela Țuțuianu, Laura Țencaliuc, Gabriela Marciuc, Răzvan Moga, Alexandra Cristea (Ally Andra), and Rodica Vlad.

My warmest thanks to everyone else who has helped me indirectly and whom I might have forgotten to mention here explicitly.

As weird as it may seem, I also need to thank Nivit for her help in promoting my book online on Twitter at http://twitter.com/nivitx, in spite of being only a fictional character.

And last, but not least, the warmest thanks to my mother, Margareta Ursachi, who supported and encouraged me to finish this ambitious enterprise.

# About the author

Marian Constantin Ghilea is a physicist (PhD. from University of Rochester), with research work in the fields of nuclear fusion, computational physics, particle physics, and exoplanets. Besides science and literature, he is also actively involved in martial arts, music, and the study of cultures and languages from around the world.

Works:

Butterfly's Dream (2018) - a scifi novel about the meaning of reality, individuality, and love;

Tides of Amber (2019) - the spirit of a full year enclosed into one hundred and eight haiku poems.
