Chapter 19 – A Question Beyond the Horizon
I was eight years old when I began to find that forest deeply familiar.
I knew every path there like the back of my hand.
Every stone near the seaside temple had become well-known to me. The river flowed along the same course it always had. Those who gathered medicinal herbs collected the very same plants. Guards walked along the same hidden trails. Why, even the sea seemed to greet me in the same way every morning.
There was a certain comfort in that.
Yet, there was also a strange feeling within me, one I could not quite describe.
One evening, as I sat on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea, I gazed intently at the horizon for a long time.
The world beyond it was invisible to the eye.
And yet, I knew it existed.
After a while, the old man came and stood behind me, carrying a basket filled with herbs.
Following my gaze, he smiled softly.
"You often look in that direction."
I nodded.
"I wonder what lies beyond."
The old man came and sat beside me.
"There are many things."
"For example?"
"Good people. Dangerous ones. Teachers. Fools. Empires. Opportunities. Regrets."
I looked at him.
"That doesn't make anything clear."
He smiled again.
"Life is like that, too; it rarely offers clear answers."
For a while, we sat in silence, listening to the sound of the waves.
Then, his expression turned serious.
"You have grown up so fast, Athiravan." "I don't feel that way."
"That is because it is difficult to perceive growth while you are in the midst of it."
I remained silent.
The old man picked up a small stone and tossed it into the sea.
"When I was young, I thought knowledge came only from reading."
I listened intently.
"It was only after I grew older that I realized knowledge also comes from meeting people."
The stone vanished beneath the waves.
"The world teaches things that books cannot."
His words lingered in my memory even after he had left.
That night, I sank into deep meditation.
That familiar, soothing sensation enveloped me.
The 'Mother Tree' appeared before my eyes.
Its branches spread out into the endless darkness, bearing countless leaves that glowed softly with life.
I sat beneath them.
Instantly, my mind felt lighter.
"Mother," I called out softly.
The leaves above me swayed gently. "My child."
For a while, we remained silent.
The silence was comforting.
Finally, I asked,
"Have I stayed here too long?"
The branches swayed gently.
"There is no such thing as 'too long' when it comes to growth."
I lowered my gaze.
"Then why do I feel a sense of restlessness?"
The 'Mother Tree' remained silent for a moment.
Then, its presence enveloped me like a warm embrace. "A seed remains beneath the soil until it is ready. When it begins to grow towards the sky, it does not abandon the earth; it simply follows its nature, that is all."
I pondered those words deeply.
The Mother Tree never imposed answers.
She helped me discover them for myself.
Before I could ask the next question, that warmth slowly faded away.
The scene dissolved.
Darkness closed in.
Mist spread across an endless, grey world.
'Mother Mist' appeared.
Her presence was immense.
Ancient.
Serene.
I bowed respectfully.
"Mother Mist."
She looked at me.
The darkness surrounding us was motionless.
"I feel a sense of hesitation or uncertainty," I admitted.
"That is natural."
Her voice was calm.
"Even the uncertainty?"
"Especially the uncertainty."
I furrowed my brow slightly.
Mother Mist continued.
"When people stop asking questions within themselves, their growth ceases. Although doubt may cause discomfort, it is often a sign that you are moving towards a new understanding."
I listened intently.
"What, then, should I do?"
The darkness shifted gently.
"Keep growing. Keep learning. Do not rush towards answers simply because they are available."
It was exactly the kind of thing she would say.
I smiled faintly.
Mother Mist noticed it. Although there was no change in her facial expression, I sensed a kind of gentle feeling amidst that darkness.
Then, she vanished.
That grey world disappeared.
I opened my eyes.
The sea awaited outside.
Moonlight draped the waves.
The night air carried the scent of salt.
I walked towards the seashore and
I opened my eyes.
The sea awaited outside.
Moonlight bathed the waves.
The night air carried the scent of salt.
I walked toward the shore and knelt in the sand.
The water touched my feet.
Coolly.
Gently.
Familiarly.
I bowed my head.
"Mother Sea."
The waves continued their endless rhythm.
I waited patiently.
Finally, a warmth spread through my chest.
Softly and deeply.
Asiri had heard my voice.
"My child."
The voice seemed to come from afar, carried by every wave of the sea.
"I have a question."
The sea listened.
"I feel as though something is changing."
For a while, only the sound of the water could be heard.
Then, she replied.
"The tide changes every day. That does not mean the sea has ceased to exist."
I looked toward the horizon.
"How will I know when to leave?"
The answer did not come immediately.
The sea was never in a rush.
"When staying where you are no longer aids your growth."
The waves rolled forward.
Then they receded.
I understood.
Not today.
Perhaps not tomorrow.
But someday.
The warmth slowly faded.
The sea grew calm again.
I sat on the shore for a long time.
I reflected.
The Mother Tree had spoken of growth.
The Mist Mother had spoken of patience.
Asiri had spoken of movement.
None of them told me what to choose.
For that choice was mine alone. Above me, the moon illuminated the sea.
Before me, the endless horizon stretched out.
Somewhere beyond that, far across distance and time, lay the next chapter of my journey.
For the first time, I was looking forward to it with eagerness.