Whence all creation had its origin? The creator, whether he fashioned it or whether he did not. He who surveys it from the highest of heavens, he knows; or maybe even he does not know?
And so, the question arises, if the origin is such an anomaly, how then does someone determine the order of it? What came first? The creation or the creator itself? And what should be destroyed first, thus?
If there was never a beginning of things, how then do you determine their ends? Or is it that, the mere act of creation and destruction exist between the folds of an everlasting preservation? If the only event of happening is so, who is it that grabs the things from this sacred box of eternal lasting and devours them to erase the existence of existence itself?
No one knows... Or maybe someone does?
Yohan Kant turned around to look at the numerous eyes appreciating his presence and even though it was his turn to speak, he remained silent. For silence, at times, is the best choice to make. His eyes wandered in dilemma. What am I doing? He knew not. Dazed as he was, there was a certainty to his actions. He opened his mouth after pondering for a bit.
"The keeper of knowledge - by Solomon Ghasi, this is the book that we are going to refer to in this semester. The basis for our next lecture will be - the myth of creation. Please read the third chapter of the book, so told, to prepare for the upcoming class. With this..." He looked down at his watch, "...the class is dismissed!"
After completing his sentence, he picked his register up and moved out of the classroom, leaving behind the students that started their chatter. His face was expressionless and yet his mind was full of thoughts.
He walked down the corridor, making his way towards the staff room when his footsteps paused. The light from the window painted his cream white shirt in blood as if prophesizing an eminent crisis. He took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling for a moment. A picturesque melancholy filled the atmosphere.
"...And thus, I am!" He mumbled under his breath.
God knew what was going on inside his head!
He turned towards the window on his right and looked outside. A flurry of people was moving in all direction on the road. Making way, at times, for the trams to pass by. The bards were singing on the road sides. Everything seemed chaotic and yet there was order to it. The factories on the horizon were spewing out smoke and the gigantic clock tower in the centre of the town was striking slightly past six. But out of all things, the most intriguing was still the sky. The sun was shining gloriously and right beside it was a low-lying moon, slowly making its way towards the sun. Like a state of art machinery turning its gears to establish the cycle of day and night. This was the world of Prithisht, where nights were but eclipse that happened per diem.
He was a bit nostalgic looking at the familiar setting. He had missed it. Of the madness that lurked in the world or even outside, he much preferred the safety of bounds that ignorance brought. And yet, as if corrupted by the knowledge itself, he sighed and wondered about what he had read in the ancient scripture — a day with the sun and a night without it, when the heavens grew dark and tiny pearls like dots would sparkle across it, sprayed across the surface like paint on a canvas.
"Stars..." He remembered with conviction.
He had never seen them, nor had anyone else. Indeed, the people of Prithisht knew not what the stars were, absolutely unaware of their existence and he wondered whether he would have been like everyone else, had not for the expedition of the ancient tomb last year.
It was a chance encounter, but he was glad he took it up. And now at the junction of his seemingly long life, he had to make a choice of whether to drown further into the horrors of the revelation or to escape, from the knowing into the unintelligible negligence of what people call 'forgetting'. Maybe 'forgiving' would be a much better term when used upon himself.
He shook his head in a deliberate attempt to skip over his thoughts and put a step forth to continue on his tracks. But not a step later he paused once again, his eyes reflecting the appreciation of the sight of that young girl walking towards his direction from the other side of the corridor. She was wearing a beige coloured shirt and a long skirt in the shade of walnut brown. Her sleaves were curled up. She had straight black hairs wrapped in a bun and her skin had this tone of paleness that seemed a bit off putting. But an immediate response to her appearance would be - she was beautiful, to the point of it being uncanny.
She held a bunch of folders in her hands. Her eyes glazed; she was walking without even looking around. Lost in her own thoughts. She walked past professor Kant without noticing his presence.
"Atis..." Yohan called out and as if awoken from her reverie, she turned around and looked at who had called out to her.
Noticing that it was Professor Kant, her eyes gleamed.
"Good evening, Professor Kant!" Her voice sounded like a melodious chirp, "how do you do?"
"I'm doing fairly fine, young lady, what of you?"
"Yes, me too..." She replied robotically but the hint of distress did not hide from the Professor's ears. He sighed.
"What of your brother? Any news?"
"No..." She replied in the tiniest voice she could muster.
"What did the police say?" Yohan asked with a frown.
"They did file a missing complaint but told me to not have much hope..."
"Why?" Asked Yohan with intrigue.
"Well...they said that after following the trails they found that Markiv might have taken a train to The Northern Uruk..."
"..." Yohan remained silent listening to that.
Northern Uruk… a region within the empire of Solaris that was recently plunged into a war with the neighboring country, the Kingdom of Traha. Many died and even after the efforts of the army that place became a hub for rebellions and terror attacks. The new ordinance passed by the three houses have put a cordoning off notice for the region. Now no soul could go or return from the place without permission, that itself was a rare treasure.
And if Markiv, Atis's brother, had really gone there, it was now impossible to return; after all, Markiv was not the son of a noble but merely a commoner and that too, an orphan.
Such is the deceit of expressions that even after experiencing a plethora of emotions, he could only let out a sigh. A sigh filled with nothing but defeat.
He looked at her while shaking his head. Her face washed with a clear fatigue and eyes sinking in. Though there was a hint of smile on her face, it seemed forced. How terrifying is the feeling of losing someone. Who knew it better than him. His heart was sore. A bit petrified after witnessing his own student going through this series of events. Unforseen as they maybe but still evidently unbearable to the ones who lost. It always was. It always will be.
"It's going to be alright, Atis…let us hope for the best." he patted her shoulder.
Atis smiled, maybe feeling a similar sense of frustration from the professor that she had been through. She nodded her head lightly.
Gong! Gong!
As they were consoling each other, a sudden sound of bells rang from afar.
"I believe it's time we part, professor." Atis spoke sweetly.
Yohan gazed down at his wrist watch and then back at the young lady. It indeed was time. After an hour or so, the curfew will be on. Everyone needs to be prepared for it.
He smiled at her and was about to bid her a farewell when his eyes suddenly caught notice of a mark on Atis's forearm. It was a tattoo made with black ink creating an overlaying pattern of a partially symmetric…Star? Wait…a star?
His eyes widened in disbelief of finding an oh-so-familiar and yet distinct thing casually drawn on the forearms of his student. He asked while pointing at the tattoo-
"If…if I may ask, Atis, what might that be?"
Atis looked down at the place Professor was pointing at and spoke with a nostalgic tone — "This is a Star, Sir. It was my brother who told me about it. I still remember him saying that stars are those that have passed away. Oh! Why do you ask professor?"
"Nothing…I was just a bit curious nothing more." he replied, "…and remember to come to me if you find any problem. It's late already you should return now."
The professor dismissed the conversation between them hastily and although it was quite abrupt, Atis did not find it surprising. After all it was indeed quite late.
She turned around after giving the professor a hard smile and started to walk away.
Yohan stood there like a statue. So many questions churning inside his head and so much confusion clouding his mind. What exactly are the stars? What were their implications that they had to be removed not only from the memories of the entire humankind but also from existence itself? What were the gods thinking before making the decision of hiding them forever? He knew not.
His eyes were still following the back of the girl named Atis. Absolutely bewildered by this strange coincidence. He patted on the pocket of his grey pants to feel the pack of cigarettes in there and was about to pull them out but he halted. His hands shivered and his heart chilled out. He forgot to even breathe. To even blink.
Cold sweat drenched his forehead and his pupils dilated as he beheld — On the back of Atis's neck, right behind the seam of her collar and hidden beneath her parting baby hairs, was an eerie eye, looking towards him in curiosity and as if seeing him not move at all, disappointed, it vanished like it was never there.