SETTING out on the road in the month of Yudhrayam as the last of the monsoons were closing in from the west, he journeyed on the dirt trail that ran south from the village through the mountains, and along the edge of the continent. Reaching a high point toward the entrance of the tunnel, he looked behind to see his village, the forest, and the great valley.

The sky became dark, yet shafts of light cut through the clouds and beamed on his home. He became glad at this sight and with no further want of lingering long, he passed through the tunnel and left his home behind him.

Inside, he saw deposits of many mined metals, most of which was iron. Long was the passage, and darkness enveloped his sight. Many caverns and hewn halls he came across, much of which had piles of ore, with many ramps and stairways ascending and descending all about, on every side. Now seeing a greater amount of the interior for himself, he wondered how it was that traders and travelers were even able to make their way through here.

He lit a sizable flame in his palm, shining against the walls. And above, he could see massive colonies of bats, sleeping as it were. He gave a small whistle, and the bats thereupon awoke. Many took flight and scratched Tūmbṃār along their path, irritated from having been woken so suddenly. Yet few of them stayed by, and he conversed with them. The bats responded with their screeches and flew a little ways ahead, now intent on serving as Tūmbṃār’s guide.

They led him through a series of passages of many ascending ramps separated by small tunnels that he himself had to crawl to pass through. And yet he managed to make his way just fine. After taking various twists and turns, he came across light in the distance of his view, and raced toward it.

When he had come out the other end, he found he was on a high pass from which he saw a flush of luscious vegetation, herds of varied animals, and many hills and mountains in the distance receding into the blue mist.

The bats gave him their farewells, and he waved his hands and thanked them. When his guides had returned to their tunnels, he looked out at the landscape and took a deep breath.

The wonders of the world stood before him. And with abounding joy, he ran forth to all the delightful sights, leaving the last of his home behind, and not once looking back.

Tall cedar, cypress, and juniper trees surrounded him wherever he went, tall blades of wet grass peeking through the marshes, and fishermen and farmers aplenty could be seen working away near the rivers and coastal plains. He strolled through all, kicking up dirt, sand, stone, and water, prancing with every step, much to the delight of all who crossed paths with him.

He would often see flocks of deer, elephants, horses, and other animals, all much bigger than him, and he would speed to where they were, climbing on and riding them. Yet the animals never attempted escape, sensing the joy that his self emitted and in turn, humoring the child.

As swift as the wind and as majestic as the sun, the animals traveled vast distances across the grass-filled plains to ease his burden of travel – though he never thought it much of a burden. And he would hop between the animals as each shouted in excitement, moving faster with every leap of his.

Many along the herds’ path were stunned in awe upon seeing this, and they thought him a scion of the Gods, for no child they knew could perform such a feat! What then would they have said if they could see his harnessing of the elements?

When the herds had stopped for either food, water, or rest, he would disembark and thank the animals by way of petting their pelts, hides, and any other type of skin they possessed, to which if they could, they would hold him aloft or otherwise lick him on the cheeks. And he would bid farewell by shouting words of thanks and waving his hands high in the air to which the animals would respond with their shouts and grunts, and cries.

At other times, he would travel through forests that had small waterfalls and chasms, picking up many edibles along the way, whether they be fruit, seed, or leaf. And often would he dive into the lakes and move straight into the rush of falling water.

Every other day, he would take a twig of neem and brush his teeth with it, and often he would try to refill his supply wherever neem trees could be had. He would also wash his clothes in the lakes and perhaps even drink of it, but not without filtering it through some clean cloth—though better it would surely have been if he did not swim in it first.

Through rocky, granite-covered lands he passed, kicking around dusted stone. Much of what had once been rocks were now fine particulates, possibly grounded by nearby smiths whose tools he could see below some of the hills, smoke rising from their workshops. On occasion, he would approach some and ask what they were making, to which many a one responded tools or weapons.

He would look into their furnaces, seeing the molten metal coursing into the molds they had lain inside but would often pull his head away, unable to bear the heat at which most laughed while others chided. He did not stay long at such places, for he found such work quite a bore, but the results nonetheless fascinating. Some even gave him their wares as presents for the long journey he had ahead of him, and into his bag he tossed them, caring little for their use and only grateful for their obtainment. And one should wonder how it was that sack of his did not tear from what was most assuredly a hefty load.

There were also many villages through which he crossed, but most existed in a similar likeness to Parāftaram. He had little interest in a stay, maybe retiring for the single night if he had come across a village during that time. However, he always made it a habit to stop for food if a family was generous enough to feed him, which many of them were.

When all was said and done, all the ones he met would give the same farewell, That One and All shall manifest in you, child! and he in like would respond, As in you, kind folk!

Yet of all the people he met within the distance spanning from his home to the Cedar Forest, there was only one individual who dwelt within a strange place and left a deep impression on the child.

Having traveled over one hundred leagues, he found himself in a more arid yet grassed region where only mountains and hills lay in the distance. There stood plenty of cypress and syconium, but one could not liken it to a forest, more to patches of large groves.

Soon, a thick mist covered the area, and Tūmbṃār lost all sense of direction and time as he prodded deeper into it. It was not long before he came across a lone house where he could hear the clangs of sharp metal. There was hardly anything by it; even the sparse trees and groves had disappeared.

He approached with caution and when he was by the door, he peeked through the window and saw a faint silhouette of a lone man moving around some things. Then he heard low murmurs turned into shrill whispers that came from the mist. And he slowly turned his head around to see white shadowed figures creeping toward him. Their whispers turned into screeches, and with haste he pulled the door open and quickly shut it behind.

He breathed a sigh of relief as the screeches softened away until they were no longer audible.

He turned around, and there on the floor was the man who was straightening some weapons he had laid around him. The little bit of light held in the space shined against his bald head, revealing just how polished it was where Tūmbṃār could see himself reflected on it. Along the man’s face was a thick and long beard tied into knots, with his hands and feet looking rather large for his thin figure.

He then noticed someone had entered, and slowly, the man angled his head upward.

His eyes met Tūmbṃār’s, and—smiling—he said, “My! A guest after so long! ’Tis a while since a person has entered this part of the sphere. I hope the ghosts outside didn’t frighten you too much! They may look menacing, but they’re rather kind when you get to know them. Such wayward souls will eventually find release, but until then, they make for good company! So, what brings you here, child?”

Tūmbṃār looked around, scratching his head, unsure why a lone man dwelt in a place such as this, especially with such thick mist. He looked through the windows and saw the specters floating about, seemingly lost. He felt a little sad, at having shut the door in their faces.

But the mist itself did not seem that it would clear soon. Indeed, it looked to have lingered a while as odd as that was. Looking to the man, he appeared to be a smith, but he had no furnace around, only racks of tools and weapons surrounding the interior of his dwelling.

“Mister, do you live here alone?” Tūmbṃār asked.

“Well, if you mean in regard to people, why yes, I do! More used to live about these parts, but a great flood swept the majority away some years ago! – well actually many years ago now that I think about it. The land was left barren and desolate in the aftermath. The ones who remained eventually decided to depart as well, leaving me here.”

Tūmbṃār sat down across from him, glancing at the weapons laid on the floor as the man shook his head. They were all finely polished and whetted, gleaming under the dull light, as if no damage had ever come to them. He could tell that this man was no ordinary smith, but why did he stay here all alone?

“Do you feel sad?” he asked. “I would if I lived in a place with no one around.”

A hearty laugh he mustered and said, “But is it not true that you are also a lone venturer? I sense not sadness from you?”

“But I see people from time to time. Nice villagers and fishermen and animals. There doesn’t seem to be anyone here, barring the ghosts.”

He laid the weapon on the floor, having inspected it thoroughly, and he stroked his beard.

“While that surely be the case, I’d say that one ought not need anyone around him. Most fool themselves into thinking such things. Such a realization dawned on me when my wife and child left. Even having these weapons around here does little for me but pass the time. Were there nothing, I’d indeed find something else to fashion until I’m able to leave this body and pass to wherever I should go to next.”

Those words of the smith struck Tūmbṃār, and he felt sadness well within him. He could not bear the thought of either of his parents leaving the other with him in tow.

“Why did they leave you, mister?”

He spread his arms wide and said, “I could not leave this behind, child. You may not understand now, but there are duties that a person must commit to, and do so of a will that resonates within them. To such an extent that your very life centers around it. In Ahasṭṛṭhaḥr we call it, Zvokhāryaḥm. You have heard that word, have you not?”

He nodded his head lightly, recalling the words of the sage, his teacher.

“I remember my teacher talking about it, but I was never very good with such things.”

The man laughed, patting Tūmbṃār on the shoulder with his large hands.

“Well, to put it simply, ’tis the role that’s destined for you. The one thing you’re not only meant to do, but yearn to do. You must be on a journey judging by that large sack you carry. Perhaps you’ll find what that is by the time you return home.”

Tūmbṃār, displeased, asked, “And smithing tools and weapons is your calling?”

“Nay, not just a calling, but the very purpose of my life!”

“I haven’t heard of or seen any wars of late, so, what purpose would any person have for your weapons? I’d also think that you couldn’t make much of a living off tools alone. Doesn’t that affect your work? I’ve always wondered the same for the other smiths I’ve come across. Besides, who’s going to buy your weapons in a lonesome place like this? There’s no one here!”

“Not quite. If one thing should ever hold, ’tis that battle and war shan’t ever cease. Being the case, even in times of peace, kingdoms shall still purchase my wares. How else will they muster their might if they have no armaments in stock? Though I do wish none perished, perhaps then I could’ve made more money – and quite right you are that hardly anyone’s bought my wares since I set up shop here,” he said, laughing. “But in any case, regardless of what role you find, know that ’tis most likely destined to you by the Gods. And if not by them, then by That One who is All.”

And Tūmbṃār cocked his head. “What do Gods have to do with our lives? Wasn’t it said that they abandoned us?”

“A part of them has, and a part of them hasn’t. ’Tis quite esoteric, and I’m afraid I can’t even tell you all what that phrase means. However, from what I’ve seen when they’re not engaged in fighting the Demons or partaking in their luxuries, I understand them to be sitting idle, waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

The man shrugged. “Perhaps for our end!”

And he gave a hearty laugh. He looked outside the window and back to Tūmbṃār. He then swept away the weapons and tools between them.

“Well, seeing as how the mist is still thick, why don’t I tell you a tale to pass the time? I think it should help you much better understand what I mean.”

Tūmbṃār nodded with a smile, and the man also smiled in turn. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together fiercely before exhaling.