A sudden ache stabbed his heart. I must leave them, he realized. But they need me and I need them. “May I think on this while we eat?” he asked.
Ogra and Rehm sensed his anxiety and allowed him to finish the meal in silence.
When the last adult was done eating, everyone got up. “Well, Edak,” said Ropl Du Meh,” I must be going now. I don’t like to stay away from my boys too long. I’ll be back for you in two days, if you have decided to go with me.”
Edak hesitated. “Mother, Father, I must stay here. For who would help with the goat—and the crops? Who would tend Klad?” He wanted to run into Ogra’s soft arms, to be protected, nurtured again.
Rehm and Ogra chuckled, yet Ogra looked a little sad. “Edak, dear son,” she said. “You know, we got along without you before you were born and we will simply have to do without you again. We will miss you every moment but you belong with a tutor. There is too much you must learn, too little we can give you.”
“Besides,” said Rehm with forced cheerfulness, “you will be coming home to visit twice every moon. We’ll put you to work then.”
Edak agreed to go.
* *
Two days passed too quickly and too slowly, for he agonized over leaving his family. Yet to go to school was more exciting than anything Edak could remember.
Ogra noticed Edak’s pain. She gave him a tiny pouch with a small lock of her hair to bring with him. “Remember me by it,” she said. “Know how much I think of you every moment.”
And now Ropl Du Meh was again at Edak’s small house. It was time to leave. Edak managed a smile and embraced each parent long and hard, remembering long walks and playful evenings with Rehm, lullabies and caresses from Ogra. A tight pain lingered in his throat and he worked hard to keep tears from flowing. He looked up at them and saw the same hurt. He allowed tears to fall and was able to free his throat to utter, “You will be proud of me.”
“We are already proud of you,” said Ogra, her eyes wet. “Now go, before your first day of lessons is over.”
He gave Klad a hug, swinging the squealing tot once around the room. Then he and Ropl Du Meh left the small hut. Edak clutched the small pouch in his fist and did not look back.
* * * *
Chapter 3
If a visiting traveler were to ask, “What is this place?” the reply would be lengthy. At first, the inhabitant would stare questioningly, not comprehending how this stranger could not know where he is, for Murians, by way of their highly developed sixth sense, always knew which town, what river, which mountain they were beholding. This quizzical look would quickly pass, as kindness and politeness were finely honed attributes of this culture, and staring was rude. But finally, the inquirer would receive the information, which would be something like, “This is the village at the mouth of the center-most river, of the six main rivers of Mu, which empties into the Murian Bay, which opens into the Great Murian Sea, east of Mu.”
Edak’s town was the same as all others—it had no name, nor anything about it to merit special attention.
Flowery names and wonderful descriptions didn’t exist in this land. They weren’t necessary, as a Murian’s special sense filled in the gaps that words couldn’t describe. But to outsiders, the nation of Mu seemed plain, ordinary—indeed, even comical.
Edak and Ropl Du Meh chatted as they walked down through town. They passed groups of men carrying wooden hoes who were heading for the fields. Women, their faces already veiled to protect them from the sun’s harsh rays, milked goats, and tiny children squealed and chased about them.
In the marketplace, merchants were arriving to open their stalls for morning business. Strong aromas permeated the air—fish, hot bread, stewing beans, spices, fruits, goat and llama dung. Edak was enthralled, for he hadn’t often visited the market.
“We come here after harvest to trade our surplus of beans,” he said. “Goats, too, when we get too many. Otherwise I stay home to tend Klad when Mother comes here.”
“Then you are familiar with the marketplace,” said Ropl Du Meh. He patted the boy’s shoulder. “That’s good, for you’ll take your turn with the shopping.”
A stall caught the tall man’s eye and he stopped. He carefully chose a number of mangoes, melons, clusters of grapes, then waited patiently while a woman patted dough into flat circles and baked them on a simple stove of clay, just like Ogra would do in the early morning air. Edak inhaled the hearty odor of the bread and studied the purchases carefully.
The food was put in two bundles and wrapped with large palm leaves. Ropl Du Meh gave one to Edak and hoisted the other onto his shoulder. Edak observed this and lifted his parcel onto his own shoulder. It was heavy, but he managed.
They continued through town, passing veiled women with squalling infants or toddlers, or both. Edak had been on these narrow lanes before, but soon they walked past the temple. He stared at it. This is as far as he had ever gone in his life.
“As a student,” said Ropl Du Meh, “one of your tasks will be to clean the temple.”
Edak’s eyes grew wide. But I do not know how!
As if his thoughts had voice, Ropl Du Meh said, “Don’t worry. The other boys will be with you. They will show you how.”
The area was unfamiliar now and the terrain became hilly, with fewer dwellings. The road rose steeply and there, nestled into the side of the hill and bordered off by a small fence of rocks, stood a tiny hut.
“This is your new home,” said Ropl Du Meh. “I think you will like it here.”
This dwelling looked the same as any other, yet something was missing. There was no garden, no goat for milk. Only a half-dozen grapevines, laden with fruit not quite ripe, climbed lazily over the stone wall. “Where do you grow your food?” he asked.
“We do not grow our food. We cannot have a full education and a full crop, too. There is not enough time in the day to tend to both. That is why we visit the marketplace for our provisions.”
The wooden door creaked open and a tiny face with large brown eyes peeked out. Wisps of black hair escaped from the leather thong at his nape and fell over his cheeks. “Good morning, Tutor,” he called in a high voice. A smile revealed a few teeth missing and a half-grown adult tooth on a skinny boy of about eight years, who now ran out of the hut. “Is this the new student?”
Ropl Du Meh chuckled as they reached the doorway. “Such a question. What if I were to tell you, ‘No, this is not the new student. This is a monkey I have brought you.’ Would you believe me?”
The boy smiled sheepishly. “No, Tutor. Of course I should have thought before I spoke. You left early this morning to fetch the new boy, so of course, this is he!” His smile widened and he looked at Edak, his eyes twinkling as he studied the new child. “I am Jarmeel. I hope we will be friends.” He extended his arms like an adult would in greeting.
Edak smiled. He extended his arms and they clasped wrists. “I am Edak,” he said. “I know we will be friends. I think we already are.”
“Come, come,” said Ropl Du Meh, herding them into the house. “We do not want to waste a whole day just becoming acquainted.”
The heavy wooden door creaked and opened all the way. Inside, the room was dark contrasted with the bright midday sun. Edak blinked as his eyes accustomed to the inside light. In the corner sat an older boy making marks on a tablet of soft clay. He stood and greeted Ropl Du Meh pleasantly and eyed Edak curiously.
“Edak,” said Ropl Du Meh. “This is Trami. He has been with me for two years, since he was ten years of age. He has become like a son to me, as Jarmeel is becoming and you, no doubt, will also.”
Trami approached Edak, smiled and extended his arms. As Edak grasped his wrists he noticed the strangeness of the lad. Trami’s hair was straight, not wavy, and cut short, above his shoulders. It was nearly black, yet a hint of copper highlight shone in the sunlight from the window. He was too short for a boy of twelve.
His eyes were small and somewhat oval-shaped. Even his skin tone was different, more bronze than tan. Edak would have been content to stare for a long time, but not wishing to make Trami uncomfortable, he asked no questions. “If you have been a student here for two years,” he said, “you must be filled with knowledge. I hope you will have patience with me.”
Trami looked at Ropl Du Meh good-naturedly. “Don’t worry,” said the teacher, “Tolerance is taught here.” His smile faded. “Now let’s get on with our lessons,” he said seriously. “As you can see, Trami has been writing on a clay tablet. Clay is free, parchment expensive. So for most lessons, this is what you will use.”
He gave Edak a smooth, wooden stylus and soft tablet. “Before the day is through, you will already know how to make your name and some simple words.” He looked over at Trami. “Trami comes from Atlan and is finishing his education here. He will help teach you to speak Atlantean. It being the international language of trade, it is necessary for a scholar to know.”
Edak ran his hand over the cool slab of clay. He wanted to start right away but Ropl Du Meh was still explaining things. “The well is down at the bottom of this hill. We passed it on the way here. You boys take turns getting water. We take turns with most of the chores here. Do not worry, we will teach you what you do not know. You’ll also learn how to count and to do it well.” He placed his hands on Edak’s shoulders and looked into his eyes solemnly. “You will learn many things that other people merely dream of.”
Edak stared wide-eyed at his teacher, trying to grasp everything he was told. At last Ropl Du Meh said, “Are you ready to begin?”
“Oh, yes,” Edak said breathlessly. “I am very ready.”
“Then be seated and I will show you how to make your name.”
* *
As days passed, Edak settled into his new life, soaking up lessons like a sponge. One answer only brought another question. Many queries the teacher answered outright. To others he simply said, “Some questions you must answer yourself.”
Every morning before breakfast and every evening before bed, Ropl Du Meh led the boys in a period of quiet. After seating himself among them, he asked them to close their eyes and concentrate on a point in the center of their foreheads, the special place where everyone but Trami had a small swelling. During these times, Edak could feel this area tingle and pulsate, as he had felt when he made his mind quiet to sense for wild animals. “This is the source of Mu’s greatness,” Ropl Du Meh instructed. “We hold unlimited power in our minds when we attune with the Great Mind.”
But, Edak wondered, What of Trami? He isn’t like us. His forehead is smooth and flat. Does he feel anything?
One morning, alone with Ropl Du Meh, he asked of this. “Trami, through training, is starting to develop his sensitivity there,” said Ropl Du Meh. “Not as strong as a Murian’s, he nevertheless benefits from our quiet times.”
Edak learned about numbers and of the great philosophers and sages before him. He learned of other countries, especially of Trami’s homeland Atlan, the richest nation in the world. He was taught to work hard and also to play, to read and write, to heal with plants and to identify the stars. Yet, his curiosity was not filled.
One day late in the afternoon, after an intriguing lesson on nature’s cycles, Ropl Du Meh measured the sky and said, “It is three hands before sundown. Let us prepare our meal.”
Edak was too absorbed in thought to be hungry. Too many questions tantalized him. “Why does the sun wander, and where does it go at night?”
Ropl Du Meh stared thoughtfully, then said, “I often tell you that you must answer some questions yourself. Yet I have never told you how. So now it is time to learn.”
He put his arm around Edak’s shoulder. “Tonight at quiet time, instead of putting your thoughts to your forehead, I want you to think instead of the sun.”
Edak didn’t understand, but he held his tongue.
“Starting where you are on the floor,” Ropl Du Meh continued, “raise your thoughts up—up through the roof, up into the sky. Do not allow other thoughts to enter. Continue your journey up, until you finally reach the sun. See and feel what it is, what it is doing. It cannot hurt you, for only your thoughts will be there. See where it goes. Look around you and see what is there. I will await the answer to your question.”
Edak didn’t talk throughout the meal. Immersed in thought, he was oblivious to the chatting of the others and didn’t taste the food. He mechanically went about cleanup chores, unbothered by Jarmeel, who enjoyed teasing and horseplay, and Trami’s endless recitations of poetry and math formulae.
And now at last the tasks were finished and the sun began to set. Ropl Du Meh sat cross-legged on the floor and silently waited. One by one, the boys saw and followed until a small circle of four was formed, all resting their hands lightly on their knees, with eyes closed. Now Ropl Du Meh directed the boys to take slow, deep breaths. The room fell silent.
Edak quieted his mind and tried to raise his thoughts. He didn’t know how. He struggled with fantasies for a few minutes, then settled on pretending he was floating.
Slowly, he felt himself rise up out of the top of his head. The sensation startled him and he was jarred back to his position on the floor. He opened his eyes and looked around. The others remained still and relaxed, their eyes closed. He shut his eyes again, knowing he must not be concerned when he leaves the floor. He tried to remain passive and thought of the sun, sky and clouds, and directed his thoughts upward.
Again he started to rise and this time he let himself go—up in the room, up through the roof, up into the sky, farther and farther without stopping, without looking down. Now the sun was before him and he stared directly at it, yet it didn’t hurt. He continued traveling upward. The sun became larger and pleasantly warm, but not hot.
It must be because only my thoughts are here, like Tutor says, he reasoned. He was weightless and wonderfully free, like the clouds, like the wind. He continued to rise.
The sky began to fade away, far away, until nothing else existed but the sun. He had reached it—had become part of it. It was as large as the world—no, greater—so much greater! It rippled and splashed and rolled with pure white scintillating fire, blasting intense heat into the ethers.
How beautiful! A gigantic ball of pure fire! He remained with this magnificent energy where he seemed a part of it, vibrating with heat and energy.
But now curiosity seeped in. What else is here? He looked around.
In the deep and endless sea of black a grand sprinkling of bright luminescence sparkled all about. Stars! So many stars! And, over there, a scintillating blue ball, more beautiful than anything he had ever seen.
That is my home! he realized, gaping. The blueness stood out in the black void like a jewel.
Something attracted him, tugged him toward this luminous blue orb. He was drawn to it, pulled away from the sun’s rays. Drifting away, slowly at first, he traveled faster and faster until he coursed through space toward his homeland. A patch of green appeared on the blue. The green became larger and closer until he could make out mountains, villages, rivers. He saw a white marble temple and recognized it as the one in his own village. He was drawn to a small hut and he knew it was his school.
With unfathomable speed he flew through the roof and was suddenly back cross-legged on the floor. He opened his eyes with a start.
His muscles were cramped and his hips and knees ached.
He looked up and blinked. The others had already gotten up and were preparing for bed. He rubbed his eyes. “How long have I been here?” he asked.
Ropl Du Meh looked up from the parchment he was writing on at the table. He rubbed his chin and looked at the boy. “Quite a while. The other boys have finished with prayers already.” He studied his new student. “What did you find about the sun?”
The memory flooded
back. “Many things, Tutor. It is fire. All fire. It is a ball, bigger than our world. And this world is mostly blue. It is a ball, too. The stars all around are magnificent, and more than I could ever count. The sky is everywhere—above, below and all around me, and it’s the deepest black. It seems to go on and on everywhere.” He wondered what was at the end.
“And did you answer your question, Little One? Where does the sun go at night? Why does it wander?”
Edak’s face flushed slightly. He could answer neither question. “I forgot to find out, Tutor.”
Ropl Du Meh chuckled. “Then perhaps you will have to go there again on another day and find out.”
* * * *
Chapter 4
10,080 BCE
Before EarthChange II
The golden-pink sun climbed out of the depths of the vast untamed ocean. As it silently rose higher, its rays touched upon the islands of Atlan, creeping over hills and dispelling shadows. It caressed first the black and white marble domes and pillars of temples, universities and government buildings, then the large statues of gods and goddesses, statesmen and military leaders. Rising higher into the sky, the fiery orb now shone on the smaller limestone and marble houses with pools, garden statuary and courtyards. It illumined the white paved roads of the cities, their aqueducts, marketplaces and forums.
Finally it came to the marble-sided residence of Nenus and Finah Kowato, a dwelling no different than most middle-class houses of the time. The rays of gold streamed through the windowpane, touching the white stucco ceiling, edging its way down past the ocher frieze of birds, illuminating the dancing particles of dust in the air. Down the wall it inched as the sun climbed higher in the heavens, at last shining on an eight-year-old boy’s sandy-red hair, causing it to beam like a golden aura and rousing him from his dream.
A slender, blond woman entered the room. “Ketzah! Wake up! Are you going to sleep your life away?”