Together, they quickly untied one of the packs from the horse, and soon Arju was warming up in soft woolen trousers, a fur cloak, and footwear identical to his host’s. With a cheerful smile, the Teacher pulled a thick, shapeless hat with long, wide leather straps over Arju’s head, wrapping them several times around his neck like a scarf.

It turned out that two of the horses were for riding, and one was a pack animal. But riding down such a steep slope was unthinkable, so both travelers began their descent on foot, leading the horses behind them. The entire path from top to bottom had been cleared of snow, with high drifts piled on either side. The remaining packed snow filled the gaps between the stones littering the trail, making the descent relatively easy.

A thought struck Arju—the path had been cleared solely for him to descend the mountain, and this deeply moved him. But he hesitated to ask his companion about it. The youth carefully observed his surroundings; he had never seen this place before today. As he looked closer, he could make out hills covered in forests in the distant valley below, a vast stretch of steppe extending to the horizon, its edge disappearing into the foothills of far-off mountains.

After about an hour, the slope became gentler, and the travelers mounted their horses, significantly speeding up their journey.

"Teacher, where are we?"

The mentor, riding ahead and leading the packhorse, turned to the youth with a smile.

"My friend, we are on the planet Ahura!"

Arju’s heart skipped a beat. This was the planet of his childhood dreams. He had been an avid reader since early childhood, and during one of the holidays, he had been gifted a scroll with a detailed description of this distant world. He had read it countless times, captivated by tales of the unknown creatures inhabiting it.

Now, with even greater curiosity, Arju studied the unfolding landscape, but he couldn’t quite place which part of the planet he was in. As if reading his thoughts, the mentor turned again:

"On the other side of the mountain lies the Sea of Uarak, and we are descending into the Valley of Grés. Beyond those mountains"—he waved his hand forward—"three days’ journey away, lies the city of Ro. He laughed. "I assume you’re familiar with the legends of its inhabitants?"

"Yes, Teacher, the Roans are known to me. Their games and carnivals are celebrated across all worlds. The city of festivities! I’ve long wanted to visit."

"Well, perfect! What could be better than fulfilled dreams? Our path takes us through this city, so much excitement awaits you!"

The travelers continued their descent. A few hours later, the snow on the trail and slopes had completely vanished, the path turning into a wide road. They shed their warm clothing as the air grew steadily warmer, the rising sun shining brighter and hotter. The sparse vegetation between the stones gave way to a carpet of soft grass on the roadside, thorny bushes replaced by thickets of coniferous shrubs that filled the crisp mountain air with an indescribable freshness, making one want to breathe it in endlessly.

The horses quickened their pace, soon breaking into a rough trot that jolted Arju and his companion uncomfortably on the rocky road. At the mountain’s base, in a deep gorge, a swift stream flowed, and crossing it required a suspension bridge. Dismounting, the travelers led their horses across.

Beyond the bridge, a sparse woodland began, with actual tall trees, where Arju and his mentor soon settled to rest.

They quickly set up camp and ate a hearty meal of cold meat and greens from one of the horse’s packs. The hobbled, unsaddled horses grazed at the forest’s edge while the travelers relaxed in the shade of a low, sprawling tree. Arju and the Teacher smiled at each other.

"Teacher!.." Arju began, but his companion raised a hand to stop him.

"Dear Arju," the mentor said with a broad smile, "you have passed your Trial, and I am no longer your teacher. Your training is complete—at least under my guidance. So, I ask you, as a friend, to call me Suryam, as my friends do."

"Thank you for your trust, Suryam! I fully understand the honor you bestow upon me and will strive to justify your faith in my future attempts to delve deeper into Reality."

"I have no doubt of that, Arju! We’ll discuss your next steps this evening. We need to reach the end of the valley today—I have a meeting with an interesting Boa there. So, my friend, let’s continue our journey."

The road wound in gentle zigzags through the embrace of a beautiful green forest. The celestial body had passed its zenith, and the shadows of the trees began stretching across the path. The horses moved at a leisurely pace, carrying their riders as the caravan slowly but steadily advanced toward the distant foothills.

The surrounding forest teemed with life—birdsong filled the air, and even the growls and screeches of large predators could be heard. Yet the travelers saw no living creatures around them, which puzzled Arju greatly.

"Suryam, why don’t we meet anyone on the road? No one travels it but us, and we don’t even see birds, though the sounds suggest they’re everywhere!"

"Arju, there’s a reason for that," Suryam replied. The travelers rode side by side, their unhurried conversation matching the leisurely pace of their horses. "On Ahura, hunting wild animals is forbidden. Yes, my friend, this taboo applies to the entire planet." Suryam laughed heartily. "But the wild animals don’t know about this prohibition and, in turn, don’t extend it to Boa. So, with the help of the 'Ray of Reality,' part of the path—or rather, part of the space around us—is shielded from wild animals. Otherwise, you, I, and our horses would have long been digested in the bellies of some adorable fanged and clawed creatures. As for fellow travelers, these lands are sparsely populated, but we might still meet Boa here."

"I’ve never heard of the 'Ray of Reality.' What is it, my friend?"

"That’s not its precise name. Reality, of course, has no rays. It’s a method of influencing matter within a limited space, imparting specific properties—like, in our case, preventing any creatures from entering the affected zone. Except for us, naturally! By the way, during your time on Earth, a similar ray was used, but its parameters were different, protecting you from certain influences of Mara. But we’ll talk about that later. Everything in its time, my young friend!"

By dusk, the travelers reached the first high hills of the foothills and began setting up camp for the night. The packhorse carried parts of a collapsible tent; they only needed to cut a few poles to erect it. Soon, the tent stood on a large clearing between the forest and an overhanging mountain. The hobbled horses were released to graze on the same meadow, untouched by scythes. Unpacked bundles, horse tack, and other travel items were neatly stacked near the tent. A small fire crackled at the entrance, its heat licking the bottoms of a pot and a kettle. Arju and Suryam sat by the fire, waiting for the stew to cook. High, bright stars winked like the eyes of some unseen, many-eyed creature.

Suddenly, the horses whinnied in fright. A loud crunch of branches came from the forest. Arju rose from his seat, while Suryam merely turned his head toward the sound. The travelers carried no weapons, so the youth snatched a brightly burning brand from the fire.The heavy footsteps of an approaching creature from the shadowed woods were terrifying yet strangely familiar to Arju. Though the unknown being moved slowly, its enormous silhouette appeared suddenly, faintly illuminated by the firelight dancing across its form.

   * * * 

The creature stood twice as tall as a man, broad-shouldered, with long arms hanging almost to the ground and a bizarre head. Its face was split nearly in half by two wide-gaping mouths, one above the other, filled with sharp, inward-curving teeth like a shark’s. Its skull was completely bald, with a single enormous eye gleaming above the mouths, surrounded by long, pale lashes. Between the mouths, a leathery fold with a black slit twitched with each breath. Its legs were slightly bowed, with disproportionately large feet and powerful muscles winding around thighs and calves. The creature’s body was entirely hairless, its massive chest and limbs sculpted with knotted muscle. A loincloth was its only garment, complemented by the skull of some large predator hanging from its waist, completing the terrifying image.

"Raksha!" Arju exhaled in relief. He tossed the brand back into the fire and raised both hands in greeting, palms forward. "An incredible meeting! What brings you here?"

The giant approached unhurriedly, grabbed the youth with both hands, and lifted him effortlessly, bringing him face to face.

"Greetings, master!" boomed the lower mouth. "You’ve been gone too long, and when I learned of your return, I decided to meet you!" the upper mouth hissed. The voices of the two mouths differed not only in tone but also in cadence. "Don’t be cross with an old Boa!" the lower mouth rumbled again. The single eye gleamed merrily.

"Of course, I’m not upset, but put me down—I’m not a child anymore!"

An incredible double-mouthed grin stretched from ear to ear, and the Boa laughed so hard that unseen beasts in the distance responded with ominous howls and screeches. The hobbled horses leaped away in fright.

Raksha carefully set Arju down and began brushing invisible dust off him with exaggerated seriousness.

"Long life to you, Raksha!" Suryam rose from his seat and bowed to the giant, palms pressed together at his chest. "You’ve arrived just in time—the stew is ready. I invite you both to share this humble meal before sleep."

Raksha turned to the youth’s companion and bowed respectfully in return.

"May your dive into Reality be fearless, great Suryam!" The giant settled near the Teacher, though even seated, he towered over his companions like a mountain. "We’ve chosen a fine spot for our meeting."The travelers inhaled the aromas of the simple food with evident pleasure, and soon wooden spoons scraped the bottom of the emptied pot. Suryam produced porcelain cups with intricate patterns from his travel bag and poured tea from the kettle. The herbal drink had a pleasant, astringent taste and a rich aroma.

After tea, they tossed more kindling into the fire and arranged themselves comfortably around it, none eager to retreat to the tent.

"Friends," Arju addressed his companions with a smile, "your meeting here, as I understand, was planned. So, I’d like to know its purpose!"

"Always in such a hurry, master!" Raksha reclined on his side, picking at his upper teeth with a twig. His eye was half-closed, making it unclear whether he was joking or serious. "Why don’t you tell your old friend where you’ve been all this time? Your Teacher’s been tight-lipped. He invited me here but didn’t say why."

Both looked expectantly at Suryam. The Teacher stirred the embers with a poker, his gaze shifting between the two questioners with playful slyness.

"You know what, friends? How about a little examination? Tell me, my former student, what is Reality to you? And you, Raksha, brace yourself—I’ve got a couple of questions for you too. And don’t blame your age!"

"Ah, born a teacher, die a teacher!" The two-mouthed creature grimaced, his face twisting into something truly horrifying. "Drag me from the other end of the universe for this! Fine. Let’s hear what our young master has to say. Maybe he’ll surprise us."

Arju laughed awkwardly.

"Reality? I’m not even sure where to begin..."

"Start with Reality, then!" Raksha spat out the food remnants he’d dislodged and nudged the seated youth with his foot. "We’re all ears."

"I haven’t immersed myself deeply enough in Reality to tell you anything new, something you don’t already know. Reality is what is, what exists in this moment. It doesn’t exist in the future or the past. It’s always in the present, vanishing instantly, shifting into the next moment. It’s also called 'the now.' Reality rolls like a wave, creating the future and instantly turning it into the past. All matter in the universe is subject to Reality, but space is beyond its grasp—eternal and boundless like Reality itself. But Reality isn’t just the boundary between past and future. It’s a vast force driven by universal intelligence, and it can be harnessed—provided there’s a connection between a Boa’s mind and the universal mind. To forge this link, one must study Reality, accept its power as the foundation of all existence, align one’s life with it, and strive to understand it as deeply as possible. This is what we call 'immersing oneself in Reality.'"

"Well, brother, thanks for that, but even I knew all that," the one-eyed giant snorted. "Ah, never mind," both mouths laughed, seeing Arju’s crestfallen expression. "Just teasing. You explained it well, quite clearly."

"Can you describe the movement of Reality?" Suryam joined in. "How do you think it happens?"

"I’ve never really thought about it!" Arju admitted, surprised. "Since all matter in the universe is subject to Reality, what comes to mind is that everything exists on a single moving plane. But I’m not sure where this plane could be—not in space, surely?"

"My dear master, you have an analytical mind," the one-eyed Boa praised. "You’ve inherited the best from your ancestors, which gladdens your aging friend’s heart!"

"Aging?!" Arju thought. "I’d be lucky to look like that after a few thousand years—which I’ll never live to see. And yet, he’s served our family for over ten centuries. According to the archives, he looked exactly the same when he first offered his services to our ancestors." But his reply was courteous.

"Thank you, Raksha. You’ve always been kind to me."

"Let’s assume Reality moves in an unknown force field—we won’t delve into that now," the Teacher said, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them. "But where and how does Reality move? What are your thoughts?"

"Honestly, I don’t know," Arju admitted, unconsciously ruffling his hair in frustration. "The first thing that comes to mind is an unimaginably vast soap bubble, where its surface is Reality, the inside is the past, and the outside is the future."

"I like that comparison!" Raksha stretched both mouths into a grin. "Makes me want to pop it!""Yes, it’s a good image," Suryam smiled. "But that raises a few interesting questions. If it’s a sphere moving from past to future, does that mean it’s constantly expanding? And if you reverse its motion, wouldn’t that imply it had a starting point—a moment when Reality didn’t exist, though space did? But that’s impossible, because space must also be real. What do you think, friends?"

"You’ve really tangled things up," the two-mouthed creature grumbled. "Such a splendid idea, reduced to a mere soap bubble. No, my friends!" Raksha laid his enormous head on a saddle he’d repurposed as a pillow. "The idea itself is good—I like it very much. As for Reality’s movement, it doesn’t necessarily have to go from past to future. It could move along its own surface, like the swirling colors on a soap bubble. Couldn’t Reality move that way? Ah, you analysts! Always ask Raksha—he knows the answers to everything!" His speech, alternating between mouths, sounded wild and unsettling.

Arju tactfully stayed silent, smiling at his companions. A light night wind played with the fire’s tongues, casting flickering shadows on their faces. The horses, calmed after their initial fright, gradually returned to graze closer to the fire. Suryam poured more tea for everyone.

"The sphere is intriguing as a form," the Teacher said between sips, "but don’t limit yourself to the concepts and images of the visible world. Reality’s movement may not be detectable by our senses. To perceive it, you might need to reach a deeper level of immersion. And as you both know, to delve deeper into Reality, you must silence the rational mind—reasoning hinders true understanding. But I didn’t ask about Reality without cause." Suryam tossed the dregs of his tea into the fire and carefully placed his cup in the bag. "Have you finished, friends? Pass me your cups." He collected the remaining cups and settled more comfortably by the fire. "If you’re not too tired, I have another question for you!"

"Go ahead!" Raksha laced his fingers behind his head and stared at the starry sky.

"Yes, Suryam, I’m not tired at all." Arju swatted away a pesky gnat and looked at his former mentor with trust.

"Arju, my friend, your Trial took place on the planet its inhabitants call Earth, cataloged by the Elders as Aova 614. Both I and your wonderful friend here would be interested to hear about Earthlings’ relationship with Reality—what they know of it and how close their understanding is to ours."

The youth pondered his answer in silence for a moment.

"I don’t think—though I’m not entirely sure—that they know of Reality as a mighty force governing the universe. During my time there, I often wondered what kept them from recognizing the present, which they do acknowledge as the driving force behind all universal processes. But the Trial didn’t involve direct contact with the planet’s inhabitants, so I couldn’t ask them about it. Humans are the only Boa on Earth. Perhaps that’s why their spiritual development hasn’t advanced beyond primitive notions of what drives the universe. Most believe that gods, or a single god, created everything and guide its development.

"Spiritual hunger is inherent in all Boa, and Earthlings feel it keenly. Much of what they create stems from spiritual rather than material origins. But their spirituality is shrouded in a thick veil of Mara. I don’t even know how to describe it—it’s so starkly different from what I knew before the Trial."

Arju tried to say more, but the two-mouthed giant had already fallen asleep mid-conversation, his dual snores quickly derailing the youth’s train of thought. Suryam signaled for silence and gestured toward the tent. Raksha remained alone by the dying fire, rolling onto his side and quieting. The horses ventured closer, grazing near the sleeping giant’s bare feet. The night wind stilled, and even the sounds of the nearby forest grew quieter. The mighty force of sleep subdued most living beings, leaving only nocturnal predators awake, their occasional roars echoing through the darkness.

   * * * 

The night passed peacefully. But by morning, the weather had changed, and Suryam and Arju awoke to the sound of rain drumming against the tent. Soon, it was pouring. Arju peeked outside and saw Raksha sitting by the extinguished fire in a lotus position, his eye closed and both mouths stretched in serene smiles. Water streamed down his mighty body, but the giant seemed to relish it. The horses huddled near the tent, heads drooping, no longer grazing.

When the rain stopped, the travelers quickly packed and loaded the horses. The packs were made of waterproof material, so no time was wasted drying their belongings. Soon, the caravan was on its way. Raksha led, guiding the packhorse, while Arju and Suryam rode behind. They left the clearing and headed into the gap between two high hills, which gradually gave way to rocky outcrops and, further on, to towering mountains with snow-capped peaks.

Their path first took them through a gorge, then up a gentle slope to a pass beyond which lay the straight road to the city of Ro. Raksha moved swiftly, and the horses matched his pace, occasionally breaking into a trot. The giant cleared large stones from the narrow trail without breaking stride, his mood cheerful as he hummed a lively tune, frequently turning to flash his companions a toothy grin.

They reached the pass quickly. The ascent had chilled the air, forcing them to don warm clothing again. Raksha, despite his bare, hairless body, waved off the suggestion to cover up, his three-toed feet leaving massive prints in the snow-dusted stones.

Beyond the pass, a vast valley unfolded, but the overcast sky and rain-heavy clouds obscured the horizon. They paused briefly to feed the horses and rest. The rain alternated with snow, and the biting wind cut through even their fur-lined clothes. After a short break, they continued.

The descent was uneventful, save for the relentless drizzle. Visibility, which had been poor at the pass, worsened as they descended, plunging them into a murky blend of rain and fog where nothing was visible beyond a few steps. Yet the foul weather did nothing to dampen Raksha’s spirits. He muttered to himself, laughed loudly, or cursed when he stumbled upon a rock or strayed from the path. Arju and Suryam mostly stayed silent, occasionally sharing impressions with their cheerful guide and constantly restraining their horses, which were eager to break into a run on the gentle decline.

The crossing of the mountains took the entire day. Once past the range, they soon reached a low, elongated building by a small stream. In the twilight, they couldn’t find a bridge, so they forded it.

   * * * 

At the sound of the approaching caravan, Boa emerged to greet them—a family of humans and one Irrikan. A Roan man, tall and middle-aged, held a three-year-old girl in his arms, while a woman stood beside him. Their homespun clothes were loose yet well-fitted. Since the rain persisted, the hosts wore cloaks. The Irrikan lingered behind, eyeing the newcomers warily.

The humanoid from the planet Irra had a conical body resembling a carrot with limbs attached haphazardly. Shorter than the Roans, he seemed adolescent by comparison. His form-fitting jumpsuit, which Irrikans never removed off-world, clung to his frame. Raksha stopped a few paces from the hosts and raised his hands, palms forward.

"May your happiness be unending, esteemed ones!"

"You are welcome guests in our home," the woman replied with a slight bow. The little girl couldn’t tear her eyes from the one-eyed, two-mouthed giant, clinging to her father’s neck in fright. The man gestured invitingly toward the house and led the way, guiding them to a stable attached to the building where the weary horses were tended to.

The structure was low, with a steeply pitched roof, but upon closer inspection, its lower half was sunken deep into the earth, with only the wooden frame above ground. A stone staircase led down to the main entrance, which was tall enough that even Raksha didn’t need to duck.

Inside, the house matched its sturdy exterior. The unplastered log walls had darkened with time and soot. Heavy ceiling beams gleamed like black wood overhead. The plain yet sturdy furniture—tables, stools, benches, cabinets, and beds—had been crafted by the homestead’s inhabitants over centuries. The wooden floor was made of tightly fitted wide planks.

In the largest room, combining a living area and kitchen, a massive hearth dominated the far wall. A pot hung over a small but fierce fire on a metal tripod. The travelers were seated at the table, soon laden with dishes. Raksha was given a place of honor by the hearth, where he sat cross-legged on the floor with a separate table for his meal—the main table couldn’t accommodate him.

After a hearty supper, the guests were invited to rest in their assigned rooms, but they chose to linger in the living room for more conversation. The children were mesmerized by the two-mouthed giant, watching him eat with a mix of fear and fascination. Raksha devoured his meal with gusto, loudly smacking his lips and winking at the children with his single eye.

Once the initial awkwardness faded, the conversation flowed freely, jumping from topic to topic without crossing into impropriety. Even the children joined in. The Irrikan, who had kept his distance, finally drew closer, staring intently at Arju and Raksha.

"You have a very cozy home," Raksha rumbled through his upper mouth, stretching his legs toward the fire. "High ceilings and doorways are rare in human dwellings. Have your kin hosted my kind before?"

"No, I don’t recall such guests," the homestead’s head, Eivas, replied with a smile. "This house was built by my great-great-grandfather. We’re settlers from the planet Cyronta, and we’ve long lost touch with our former world-mates. Perhaps your kin visited there, hence the tradition. But I can’t say for sure!" He turned to Raksha, addressing him as the group’s elder. "Tell me, honored one, where are you bound?"

"Who knows?" Raksha yawned with his lower mouth while smiling with his upper. "Ask my master." He nodded toward Arju.

"Your master?!" Eivas exclaimed, and the others stared in shock. "Can one Boa own another?!"

Arju flushed, while the one-eyed giant grinned widely, awaiting the youth’s response.

"It’s difficult to explain my family’s relationship with the generous Raksha," Arju began, rising and spreading his hands. "He is certainly not my property, nor even a hired servant. Many centuries ago, Raksha came to my ancestors, and they made a pact: he would protect our family, and we would provide him shelter and food. I’ve reviewed our archives—nowhere is it stated that Raksha serves us. But he always calls us 'masters,' and that’s his right. I hope that clarifies why my friend addressed me so."

"This is astonishing!" interjected Aur, the family’s white-haired patriarch. "Tell me, honored Raksha, how long have you graced Reality with your presence?"

"You know as well as I, revered Aur, that there comes a time when years cease to matter. I’ve lived a very long time—that much is true. But how long? It’s hard to say. I was born before my planet learned of the Community of Primal Reality. By then, I’d already lost count." Raksha bared his teeth in a grin. "And why should I count? Those years were happy—that’s enough for me."

The old man shook his head. "I know you speak the truth, great Raksha, but I’ve never heard of a living being—a Boa—who could live so long! Ancient texts say only gods possess such longevity. Mighty Boa, are you a god?"

"Those texts you read, dear friend, hail from the era of Mara’s dominion. In Mara, you’ll find far stranger beings. Reality, however, precludes divinity by its very nature. That’s why it’s Reality—everything in it is real."

"You are wise, Raksha." The old man smiled. "What you say is truth. But it’s a shame you’re not a god. I thought, before my time comes, I might behold one in the flesh!"

Everyone laughed—except the Irrikan. Lacking a neck, he swiveled his entire body to observe the merriment, his expression baffled.

"Friend," Arju addressed him, "pray tell, what brings you here? Are you also bound for Ro? If so, we could travel together! What’s your name?"

The Irrikan stared wordlessly, making an indeterminate gesture.

"He doesn’t understand Boaattata," explained an eleven-year-old girl, one of the homesteader’s daughters. "He’s been with us two days and only watches us without speaking."

"Where did he come from?" Suryam asked her with an encouraging smile.

"From the viewer. I love watching Random World, and when I tuned in yesterday, the host asked me to describe our world."

"What kind of program is that?" Suryam was puzzled. "Is it new?"

"Oh no, venerable sir," Eivas chimed in. "It’s been running for ages. We all watch it sometimes to see what other Boa inhabit the Community. Over a million inhabited planets, each with its own Boa, traditions, and culture. Yesterday, the host connected to us, and my daughter showed him our home and farm."

"Yes, and when I showed him our animals, this Boa stepped out of the viewer. Maybe something here intrigued him. But he never speaks, so I wondered if he’s even a Boa at all."

"Oh, he’s a Boa, alright," Raksha grumbled. "From the planet Irra. I’ve been there. Their silence isn’t surprising—they communicate telepathically among themselves. They can transmit thoughts but can’t read or hear others’ unless directed at them. Many find learning Boaattata too bothersome and stick to their native tongue. This one seems no exception."

"How should we treat him? He refuses food, slept outside despite the bed we prepared. We don’t want to offend a guest—what if he spreads word of poor hospitality?"

"Don’t fret, hostess," Raksha said, picking at his teeth with a splinter. "If he behaved like this with me, I’d open a viewer to any spot on Irra and kick him back through it. Let him chatter all he wants there!"

Only Arju knew this wasn’t a joke—the two-mouthed one would do exactly that. The children giggled and edged closer to Raksha, whose nightmarish appearance was both terrifying and fascinating.

The giant wiggled his toes enticingly, and a three-year-old boy, unable to resist, sat beside him and grabbed his left big toe with both hands. The scene was comical, drawing everyone’s attention to the towering Boa and the tiny child tugging at his grimy digit.

The Irrikan swiveled to watch, then suddenly extended a hand and spoke:

"Auhu itubl ouka!"

"He spoke!" the girl gasped. "What did he say?"

Everyone exchanged bewildered glances.

"Youth overcomes age," Raksha translated. "Quite the philosopher, this Irrikan."

The Irrikan seemed to unlock, muttering incessantly and gesturing at the boy and Raksha. Suddenly, the one-eyed Boa barked something with his lower mouth, and the Irrikan fell silent. All waited for the giant’s explanation.

"What a chatterbox!" Raksha hissed, not kindly. "Babbled enough nonsense to fill a barn. Ah, my dear friends, our suddenly talkative companion was worried I might snack on the boy and was pleading with me not to. So I told him if he uttered another word, I’d eat him instead!"

The children scattered, and even the adults recoiled, prompting Arju to intervene.

"Raksha is a very kind Boa and would never harm anyone. Please forgive my friend’s dark humor—it’s just his way. He swears sometimes too," the youth added with a smile.

Suryam also rose, approaching the huddled children. He patted the youngest on the head.

"Great Raksha is one of the kindest beings in Reality. This, my little friends, is a case where a fearsome exterior hides a gentle heart. It’s a shame we can’t stay longer—you’d come to love him as we do. Fear not; where Raksha is, no danger exists."

The incident was smoothed over, and Eivas asked Raksha to inquire about the Irrikan’s name, plans, and whether he was hungry. The answers were startling: Boa from his planet ate only once every five of their days (equivalent to seven on Ahura). He was so taken with the homestead’s inhabitants, nature, and climate that he wished to stay longer. He asked the hosts not to worry about his lodging—he preferred sleeping in the barn with the animals. As for his name, it was too long and unpronounceable in Boaattata, so they could call him whatever they liked.

The children, delighted, began suggesting names, some so amusing that laughter filled the room for a good half-hour. They settled on "Agop," meaning "mute" in the local dialect. Left in peace, the Irrikan soon faded into the background.

The guests were shown to their beds, though Raksha declined indoor lodging and joined Agop in the hayloft. Suryam and Arju politely refused an invitation to watch a new adaptation of Ahura’s epic The Crimson Mara and retired. The day had been eventful, and rest was needed for the journey to Ro.

* * *

The sunrise caught the travelers on the road. Raksha woke his friends very early, and the hosts also rose to feed the guests before their journey. They bid farewell to their hospitable hosts at the roadside in the early twilight. The Irrikanian came out to see them off as well. As Raksha later recounted, they had talked almost the entire night in the hayloft and eventually became friends. Agop, true to his nature, remained silent, but at parting, he raised his hand and did not lower it until the travelers were out of sight.

The morning mist gradually dispersed. The rested horses carried their riders and baggage at a brisk pace, while Raksha once again led the way across the wide steppe. Now, however, the path beneath their feet was a proper road paved with baked and compacted soil, making it exceptionally convenient for travel. The one-eyed, two-mouthed giant cheerfully splashed through the occasional puddles with his bare feet, sending sprays flying as far as possible with each step. The sun rose through the haze, which, as Suryam noted, promised a hot day. Herds of animals roamed the steppe, and predators prowled in groups or alone. Yet none approached the road.

The friends lively discussed the representatives of Ahura's animal kingdom, where alongside species common to many worlds—both herbivores and carnivores—there were also rare large reptiles, their powerful legs trudging through the tall grass of the steppe. Nearby, the roar of a large predator echoed, and from the high bushes, a lean lizard with a massive head and gaping maw lunged in a series of leaps toward a small herd of buffalo. The herd was alert and quickly began moving away from the road and the predator. Soon, the chase disappeared from view, leaving the outcome of the lizard's ambush unknown.

As before, the caravan was the only one on the road. It seemed the inhabitants here preferred instant travel via the Vizor over journeys. This led Ardju to a thought that made him even rein in his horse to ponder it thoroughly. If their final destination was the city of Ro, why didn’t they use the Vizor to appear directly on its streets? After all, a Vizor window could be opened anywhere, even right here on this road. But if Ro wasn’t their goal, then what was? And why hadn’t any of his companions revealed the true purpose of this journey yet? Or had he missed something, failing to grasp what his companions expected of him? Despite the warm morning sun, a chill settled over Ardju’s heart. Could this still be part of his Trial? Were his friends waiting for him to realize something while he, like a fool, simply drifted along, oblivious under the protection of his teacher and Raksha?

The inner turmoil of the young man did not go unnoticed by his former mentor. Suryam, also reining in his horse, looked intently into his friend's eyes.

"Ardju, my friend, what troubles you?"

The youth silently met Suryam's gaze, then lowered his head. Suddenly, he jerked it back up:

"Suryam, forgive me if my question seems strange, but why are we here?!"

The teacher laughed heartily in response.

"An excellent question! And timely. But I won't be the one to answer you. Raksha, you heard everything, didn't you?"

Raksha and the pack horse were far ahead, but he immediately stopped, and soon his friends caught up with him.

"Not deaf," grumbled the giant. "Without boasting, I can say I heard not only what you were saying but also the rumbling of your hungry stomachs." He pointed to a cluster of trees by the road on the horizon. "We'll stop there for lunch." He placed his enormous palm on Ardju's shoulder and, bending slightly, looked into the youth's eyes. "There is no goal, only the path!" And with that, he strode forward again at a brisk pace, urging the horse along.

Ardju understood that these were not just words, nor even a philosophical saying, however profound it might be. Most likely, it was a symbol. But of what? He looked at Suryam in confusion.

"Ardju, in Ro we will part ways!" Suryam smiled. "Everything that was meant to happen has happened. Your training, your school Trial, and your initiation are complete—something I'm glad about. The phrase you just heard is the motto of the Protector. And since Raksha said it to you, it means he is now becoming your mentor. You, in turn, will only speak this motto when you choose your own student, which will happen someday—I believe in that!"

For some time, the travelers moved forward in silence, each lost in thought.

"Raksha, how did you manage to befriend Agop?" Suryam suddenly asked the giant with a smile. The latter slowed his pace slightly to walk alongside his friends.

"Well, we found common ground. Quite an intelligent being, really. I was part of the expedition to Irr when the Community of Primal Reality was assessing the possibility of that planet joining the alliance. Ah, those were lively times!" The giant gave a short chuckle. "Back then, we didn't know they communicated through thoughts. What's interesting is that they can transmit their own thoughts but can't read or hear others'—only those directed specifically at them. So much amusing confusion arose when I and the other expedition members tried to establish contact, and they just stared at us blankly! Curiously, they achieved their development entirely without technological progress—perhaps that's what allowed them to comprehend Reality in its truest sense. But I terrified them the most. They'd scatter like mad at the sight of me. By then, I was used to beings recoiling from me at first encounter, but there it was downright excessive!"

"Tell me, Raksha," Ardju addressed the one-eyed giant. "I know you've been in the Community for thousands of years. But no one knows which planet you hail from. You've never told anyone! Maybe you're unique, and you never had a homeworld to begin with?"

Raksha glanced sideways at the youth and snorted.

"Maybe, maybe..."

"If Raksha doesn't speak of it, he has good reasons," Suryam interjected. "Though, of course, many rumors about you circulate across the worlds, great Raksha. I won't list them here," the teacher smiled, "but I'll mention one, since we're on the subject."

"Color me curious," Raksha muttered without much interest. Walking beside Ardju's horse, he winked at the youth and bared both mouths in a not-entirely-friendly grin at Suryam.

"The beings say, my friend, that you hail from a world of perfect chaos, where forms hold no fixed meaning—they are independent of their previous states and take new shapes each time, their primary movement being constant mutation. And you know yourself that many consider you a mutant."

"Suryam, my esteemed friend," Raksha's head, walking beside the riders, was slightly higher than theirs, and the one-eyed giant patted the teacher on the shoulder. "Beings know precious little about chaos. Though its definition was established long ago—that it cannot exist in Reality—and what we call chaos is merely structure in eternal motion. If Reality could be paused and this so-called chaos examined, we'd see it's an entirely ordered structure developing by certain rules, laws if you will!" Raksha laughed heartily. "As for my emergence from the depths of chaos, I'm flattered by the comparison, but the truth is far more prosaic, even banal. I simply see no point in indulging idle curiosity. Of course, there are beings who know far more about me than even I'd like. But for you, my dear friends, I'll make an exception and share something of my past... when Reality wills it." The giant quickened his pace and soon strode ahead of the caravan again. Suryam and Ardju exchanged amused glances and spurred their horses onward.

Only by day's end did the travelers reach the outskirts of Ro. The road grew busier, with more beings traveling on foot or in horse-drawn carts. There were also self-propelled vehicles powered by subatomic engines, but due to the prevailing skepticism toward technology on Ahura, these were few. Some passersby stopped in surprise, staring at the unusual group. The friends entered the city as twilight fell. The streets of Ro, like those of other cities on Ahura, were wide, flanked by sprawling one- and two-story houses, with only the occasional three-story building. High-rise structures were unpopular here—the planet had ample land, and many preferred living on homesteads rather than in cities, making multi-unit buildings or "skyscrapers" unnecessary. Typically, houses and other structures stood at the rear of spacious courtyards, while the front areas near the road featured broad lawns, each owner landscaping them as they pleased. Some created leisure spaces with refreshing fountains, others planted exotic flowers and shrubs, while a few left nature to its own devices, resulting in such lush growth that paths had to be cleared through the vegetation.

Raksha, after asking a passerby about local inns, led the caravan to the nearest one, as the sun had already set and the encroaching dusk swiftly draped everything in a dark-gray veil. The roadside lanterns flickered to life and extinguished as the travelers and the few strolling citizens passed beneath them.

"Oddly cozy for a city of carnivals and revelry," Raksha muttered. He guided his companions to a two-story manor with an inconspicuous sign reading "Tavern and Lodging," then lightly tapped the door with a knuckle—though the impact rattled the windowpanes. Shuffling footsteps sounded from within, and a sullen face with the sagging jowls of a glutton peered through the crack.

"What d'you want?" the portly being asked warily, eyeing the two mouths beneath a single eye.

"What a charming welcome," the giant said dryly. He yanked the door open unceremoniously, nearly sending the innkeeper tumbling after it. "Take in your guests. And the horses need stabling, feeding, and watering!"

"Hey, easy there, brute!" The innkeeper steadied himself. "No way you're fitting in here. The others can come in." He turned into the house. "Auria, we've got guests!" Facing the travelers again, he added, "I'll tend to the animals later—they can wait by the entrance for now. Come in!" He gestured toward the brightly lit doorway. "As for you," he said to Raksha, "find somewhere else to sleep!"

"Wasn't planning on squeezing into your hovel anyway!" Raksha bared both mouths. "Like I'd want to!"

"Then be off with you! Near the central square, there are inns that might cram you in somewhere." With that, the innkeeper slammed the door behind Suryam and Ardju as they stepped inside.

The giant smirked and strode briskly deeper into the city.

   * * * 

Suryam and Ardju found themselves in a spacious hall where a fire crackled cozily in the hearth. The wooden walls were adorned with ancient, exotic weapons, and the floors covered in exquisite, plush carpets. Auria, the innkeeper's wife—a woman not yet elderly—greeted them warmly, seated them by the fireplace, served tea, and retreated to the kitchen to prepare supper. The portly innkeeper, groaning, settled onto a couch against the wall and shook his head gloomily, still unsettled by the encounter with Raksha.

"What nightmare spat that being out?" he finally burst out. "Forgive my bluntness," he addressed the travelers, "but is he truly with you? I've seen all sorts in the Community, but him?! My heart near stopped when I saw him! Creatures like that belong in horror tales!"

"Yes, dear host, he is our friend. His name is Raksha." Suryam rose slightly from his chair and pressed his palms together respectfully. "Allow us to introduce ourselves—I am Suryam, a teacher, and my young companion here is my former student, Ardju! We're delighted to stay in your lovely home!"

"I'm Harr, master of this inn. It's small—just five rooms, all upstairs. My family lives on the ground floor, and this room is common space where we gather to relax and socialize. I hope you'll enjoy your stay! How long do you plan to remain in Ro?"

"Not long, perhaps a couple of days to rest from the road."

"Will you attend the carnival? The next one starts tomorrow."

"Yes, we thought we might," Ardju replied with a smile.

"Ah, splendid! Do you have costumes? If not, I can offer several splendid options for attire and masks!"

"We'd be most grateful," Suryam said, stretching his legs with visible pleasure and sipping his tea. "Wouldn't we, Ardju?"

"Absolutely! I've long dreamed of joining the festivities." Ardju grinned. "I hope we can find a costume for Raksha too!"

"Somehow, I doubt he needs one," Harr grumbled. "His appearance outdoes any phantasmagoria!"

Suddenly, the weapon-covered wall dissolved, replaced by a panorama of a sandy beach along an azure sea. Two boys and a girl emerged from the shore toward the room.

"Finally!" Harr clapped his hands on his knees. "How long can you swim? I might just revoke their evening Vizor privileges—after these dips, they won't sleep till midnight! My children have returned," he explained to Suryam and Ardju.

The children, dressed in tunics, entered, bringing with them the scents of the ocean. The girl held a large seashell and rushed to show it to her father, who clicked his tongue approvingly and praised her. The youngsters greeted the guests before heading to their rooms. The Vizor reverted to its wall-like appearance. Auria entered and invited everyone to the dining room for supper.

   * * * 

Raksha strode swiftly toward the city center, where the grand carnival square lay. In anticipation of the festivities, the city had quieted, with few beings on the streets and only the gradually lit windows signaling the approaching night. Near the square, he turned into an alley and approached a large, single-story building with a steeply pitched roof, its darkened silhouette pierced only by narrow, fortress-like windows. Unlike most city dwellings, this one was encircled by a palisade of uneven logs and a heavy, crudely hewn gate. Raksha knocked in a coded pattern. Heavy footsteps soon thudded from the courtyard.

"What abomination has the Mara spat out now? I'm expecting no one!" A hoarse, gravelly voice held no welcome. "Whoever you are, begone, or you'll regret it—mark my words, as a being of the Isthmus!"

"Is that how you greet old friends?" Raksha's dual mouths twisted in amusement. "Ah, Olen, courtesy was never your strength."

A small hatch slid open in the gate, revealing two independently roving eyes. The bolt clanked, and the gate swung inward.

"Knew I recognized that knock!" A grating laugh came from a bizarre creature—a cross between a man and a chameleon. Olen stepped aside to admit Raksha. "The two-mouthed spawn of Mara graces us! Fine, come in, since you're here."

Olen stood slightly shorter than Raksha but was bulkier, his powerful frame giving an impression of greater strength despite lacking the giant's corded muscles. A short tail, an extension of the spined crest running from his crown down his back, twitched at knee level.

"Charming welcome," Raksha smirked, ducking through the doorway. "Can't say I expected better."

"Let's hope this charming start doesn't lead to a foul end," Olen grumbled, following him inside.

   * * * 

Leau definitely liked this planet. She loosened the reins, and the bird surged forward at full speed. The pink vegetation and deep blue of rivers and lakes blurred into a violet haze in the breakneck flight. The girl turned and waved to her friends, who urged their own mounts to keep up. Three great birds raced over the water, their screeching beaks driving off predatory birds and dragons in their path. The headwind was so fierce the girls had to press flat against their steeds' necks, their school dresses fluttering wildly, barely clinging to their bodies. To the left, a sandy shoreline emerged from the mist, and Leau banked sharply toward the vast beach. The others followed.

Soon, the girls—having shed their clothes—were splashing and shrieking joyfully in the gentle waves. Their birds alighted on a nearby cliff, preening their feathers with their beaks. After swimming to their hearts' content, the girls emerged onto the sand to bask nude under the planet's twin suns. They had the endless beach entirely to themselves.

"I could stay here forever," chubby Vari called out, burrowing into the warm, damp sand.

"Don't be silly," dark-haired Uokoavi retorted, tilting her face to the light. "You'd bolt home the second you got hungry. And I'm already bored. It feels like we're the only ones on the whole planet. It's eerie, even scary."

Leau—blonde, with golden eyes beneath long black lashes and a slender, lithe frame—lay beside Uokoavi, then rolled onto her stomach to study the dense jungle bordering the sand. Her irises, shimmering like rainbows, narrowed to gleaming slits.

"I've got an idea," she said. "Father mentioned at breakfast that Ahura is preparing a carnival unlike any before. It's about to begin. So, girls—ready for a party?"

"I'm in," Uokoavi stretched lazily. "But we should tell the teachers and parents, or we'll catch hell later."

Vari shook the sand off and plopped back down.

"I've never been to a carnival, only watched on the Vizor. But my parents won't allow it." She sighed. "Skipping lessons to fly here will earn me a scolding for sure. Mother's very strict."

"Don't worry, your dad will smooth it over—he's soft on you." Leau sprang up and pulled on her school dress. A sharp whistle summoned her bird, which swooped down instantly, screeching and flapping. She tossed it a sweetcake from her saddlebag, which the creature snapped up greedily.

"Well? Coming?" Leau mounted, grinning.

The girls exchanged glances and whistled for their own birds. Moments later, they were airborne, opening a Vizor window mid-flight and vanishing from the planet as if they'd never been.

   * * * 

The mask-maker lovingly examined his creation. It was his finest work—fifteen days and nights of labor, but worth it! He hung it above the costume and stepped back to admire the ensemble. Perfect! The mask's elongated face bore such palpable disdain that even a glance would provoke indignation. The client would be pleased. The craftsman smirked. What need had this mysterious patron for such negativity? The costume was a floor-length white robe, its only adornment a single black circle at the chest. The client was due today. Good—the sooner he came, the sooner the mask-maker could join the carnival himself!

   * * * 

The vast carnival square teemed with beings from across the Community. Despite its enormity, it couldn't accommodate all attendees, so dozens of floating island-platforms hovered above, slowly circling and equally packed with revelers. Suryam and Ardju stayed on the ground, weaving through the sea of costumed beings toward a high tower where organizers were assembling on a dais. Amid the endless variety, their outfits were utterly unremarkable.

"I doubt Raksha will find us here," Ardju shouted over the din. Suryam patted his shoulder reassuringly—He'll manage! Suddenly, a festival official (unmasked and wearing a badge) approached, pressing palms to his face in greeting.

"Master, a moment of your time!"

"Speak, steward." Suryam mirrored the gesture, smiling.

"Please accompany me to the main platform. You're expected." He turned to Ardju, spreading his hands apologetically. "Only the master is needed. Enjoy the festivities!"

"Yes, Ardju, amuse yourself! I'll find you later." With that, Suryam and the steward vanished into the mask-clad throng.

Stunned, Ardju peered through his mask's eyeholes at the surrounding chaos. With a sigh, he decided it was time to eat. The melodic calls of food vendors sounded nearby, and he headed toward them.

_______________

End of Chapter One