Tribal attained absolute clarity regarding every single thread woven into that vast tapestry of events. Before his intangible eyes, the motives of the Protector of Bodies finally aligned. He understood that the ancient entity did not act out of fury, but out of an intrinsic purpose: his powers operated as invisible shields, architecting events and circumstances to safeguard the carnal vessels of those who surrendered themselves to deep meditation. Those beings who sought to tear the veil of the world in search of other cosmic realms and new thresholds required shelter. Thus, the Protector diverted routes, altered destinies, and warded off any interference that dared disturb the meditators' grand mental crossing.
In the same manner, Tribal embraced within himself the reasons of Saryah and Avaranael. He perceived that, from the perspective of the absolute, there was no room for malice. There were no villains or corrupted intentions there. Every choice, every painful transition, and every step taken upon the dusty roads simply obeyed the inevitable and natural flow of existence. Everything unfolded exactly as the universe demanded it to unfold.
Eras advanced upon the planet, and time molded matter. The original settlement, once simple and fragile, expanded under the care of Avaranael and Saryah, transforming into a true city. Entire centuries became enmeshed in the cosmic fabric, and when both already carried the visible weight of old age upon their carnal vessels, something extraordinary occurred. Their energies, cultivated in deep harmony throughout that immense journey of exile, fused in an act of pure creation. From this late, spiritual amalgam, Isahan was born. He was the promise materialized, an echo of new life pulsing at the heart of his parents' maturity.
While the new lineage established itself within the city, Tribal and Alaya bid farewell to the place. Their steps guided them beyond known frontiers, continuing their own pilgrimage across the world. Moved by the purpose to guide and edify, they went on offering shelter and sharing teachings with the peoples they encountered along the way. There were eras when they chose to take up residence within a community, living among mortals; in other phases, they preferred to withdraw, traveling subtly, like shadows projected from within the very veil of the planet.
It was during one of these journeys, hidden in the intangible folds of reality, that Tribal halted his steps. His spiritual eyes focused on the shore of a beach washed by a restless sea, where the figure of a man shattered all monotony of the landscape.
He possessed a monumental presence, almost theatrical in its imposing nature. His hair was a wild, untamed mass of gray strands that seemed to defy gravity with every gust of wind. His dark skin, deeply weathered and bronzed by the sun, covered a sculptural anatomy, carved with dense muscles and contours so sharp they appeared drawn in ink. He was barefoot, devoid of any upper garments, sporting only a cloth firmly tied around his waist, resembling a bold, minimalist piece of ancient attire.
The man moved with an exotic and magnetic expressiveness. Every movement of his—the raising of an arm, the rotation of his torso—was executed with precise angles, a dramatic pose that exuded an almost cosmic confidence. He tilted his vigorous body in challenging directions while thrusting wooden sticks firmly into the damp sand, casting a sharp, haughty gaze toward the infinite horizon.
The peculiar, imposing, and almost artistic way that man challenged the space around him hooked Tribal's perception irresistibly. There was an immediate attraction to an energy so vibrant and stylized. Driven by an arresting curiosity, the guide felt compelled to break the barrier of the invisible, discarding his dimensional mantle to manifest in the physical plane, right behind him.
Beside him, still shielded by invisibility, Alaya merely smiled. A light, amused vibration emanated from her essence, understanding, with her usual serenity, that Tribal's untamed fascination with the world's peculiarities inevitably led them to the most extraordinary situations in existence.
The moment Alaya also decided to cross the dimensional rift, accompanying her partner, densities began to shift. The invisible fabric rippled, and gradually, the subtle essence of the two guides condensed, assuming visible human forms beneath the coastal clarity.
Unaware of the mystical manifestation beginning right behind him, the peculiar man concentrated all his energy into one final aesthetic movement. He drove a final stick into the damp sand and, instead of simply standing up, flexed his spine to its absolute limit. His robust torso arched backward in a flawless, defiant anatomical bridge, tensioning every fiber of his abdomen, which was replete with well-defined, muscular blocks.
Maintaining that inverted, ultra-expressive posture, he directed a upside-down gaze toward the horizon. It was precisely from this misaligned perspective that his sharp eyes caught the two divine silhouettes finishing their materialization on the beach.
The visual shock completely shattered his mathematical precision. Abruptly losing his balance, his legs faltered in the sand, and his monumental body collapsed sideways. Crashing down in a surprisingly well-choreographed pose even in his fall, he propped himself up on one elbow, raised his outraged face toward the newcomers, and exclaimed with a dramatic grandeur that echoed through the wind:
"What kind of angular velocity is this?! My calculation was absolute, yet the mere presence of you two has just distorted the very constant of my reality!"
Still resting on his elbow upon the damp sand, the man shook his gray mane with a vigorous, theatrical motion. In a leap that completely defied inertia, he propelled himself upward, spinning in the air to land squarely on his feet. The exact millisecond his feet touched the ground, he crossed his muscular arms, tilted his hip to the side, and pointed a rigidly extended index finger directly at the faces of the two cosmic travelers. An aura of pure intensity seemed to emanate from his sharp outlines.
"You dare challenge the apex of my geometric reasoning without so much as announcing your identities?" his voice thundered, laden with monumental pride. "I am Bhāskara! The mind that deciphers the hidden gears of the celestial vault and translates the breath of the sun into perfectly balanced equations!"
Tribal, utterly fascinated by the extravagance of the creature, took a step forward. His spiritual eyes gleamed with a vivid curiosity, completely immune to the man's attempt at intimidation. The guide unconsciously mirrored the stranger's grandiosity, raising one open hand beside his face while tilting his head at an exotic angle.
"I am Tribal, a walker of invisible webs. And this beside me is Alaya," he introduced, shifting abruptly to a tone of deep and genuine intrigue. "Bhāskara... my core has been hooked by your geometric dance. Tell me, what is the transcendental purpose of driving these sticks into the sand with such determination? What cosmic mystery do you attempt to subjugate with pieces of dead wood?"
Behind him, Alaya covered half her face with the palm of her hand. Her eyes expressed a mix of amusement and a clear premonition of the rhetorical disaster about to unfold.
'Oh, Tribal...' Alaya thought, feeling a slight, figurative drop of sweat roll down her spiritual temple. 'Your untamed curiosity will bury us yet. You have just given a stage and a monologue to a man who calculates the path of clouds for amusement. We are going to bitterly regret asking that question.'
Bhāskara's eyes widened, and the world around them seemed to freeze in a dramatic close-up focused on his features. He let out a booming laugh, a roar that vibrated through the waves of the sea, before digging his heels into the sand and assuming an even more extravagant pose, now pointing toward the king of stars in the sky.
"Pieces of dead wood?!" Bhāskara exclaimed, the muscles of his abdomen contracting impressively. "Foolishness! What you perceive as mere sticks are, in truth, extensions of my own will! The pinnacle of my quadratic precision! Prepare your minds, for the answer to your inquiry will shatter the limited perception you possess regarding time itself!"
Bhāskara drove two sticks parallelly into the sand, a few inches apart from one another. He crouched dramatically, almost touching the ground with his chin, pointing at the small dark lines projected beneath the sunlight.
"Behold, travelers!" he cried, his eyes flashing with an almost terrifying conviction. "If our world were a straight and perfectly flat line, these two identical sticks, beneath the exact same sun, would create two millimetrically equal shadows! There would be no mystery, no challenge! But the universe does not operate in mediocrity!"
He rose in an aesthetic leap, tossing his gray mane and pointing his index finger rigidly toward the distant horizon where the sea met the sky.
"Matter curves! The ground we walk upon bends into a monumental sphere! And what does that mean for the human mind? It means that if I were to march a colossal distance in a straight line toward that mystical horizon, and drive another stick into the ground at the exact same time of day... its shadow would be different! It would possess another size, another inclination, for the top of the wood would be pointing toward a subtly different angle in the cosmos!"
Tribal crossed his arms, completely absorbed by the theatrical explanation, assimilating the elegant logic with wide eyes. Bhāskara threw a punch into the air, the muscles of his arm tensioning sharply under the sun, assuming a pose where he tilted his torso and displayed his sculptural abdomen with absolute pride.
"It is the ultimate journey! If we discover the exact distance between this coastal point and a distant point on the globe, and measure the exact difference between the sizes of the two shadows generated at the same instant... mathematics will do the rest! We will reveal the exact proportion of the curvature! We will wrench the secret of the total size, the exact diameter of this planet, using nothing but our legs to march and pieces of wood to project the light! It is the most magnificent plan humanity has ever conceived! However... such a feat demands crossing deserts, braving mountains, and walking until our feet beg for truce. An unprecedented expedition!"
Bhāskara interrupted his own monologue and stared at Tribal. His eyes narrowed in a dramatic challenge. With a swift movement, he extended his hand in a flamboyant invitation:
"Tell me, walker of invisible webs... is your courage equivalent to your curiosity? Would you dare march alongside the most brilliant mind of this world to measure the infinite?"
Tribal did not hesitate. A wave of genuine and mystical enthusiasm flowed through his being. He broke his erect posture, flexed his knees sideways, threw the weight of his body backward, and raised his left arm at an acute angle over his face, leaving only his glowing eyes visible above his forearm. It was a pose of pure acceptance and grandeur.
"My purpose is to edify and comprehend the mysteries of creation!" Tribal proclaimed, his voice vibrating in perfect harmony with the astronomer's theatricality. "I accept your challenge, Bhāskara! May our footprints mark the beginning of cosmic measurement!"
Right behind them, Alaya watched that double display of eccentricity with deep estrangement. She remained completely motionless, but her left eyebrow began to twitch in a rhythmic and uncontrollable manner.
'This can only be a prank played by destiny,' Alaya thought, her expression frozen while the two men beside her locked themselves into entirely uncomfortable and ultra-expressive body postures against the golden sunset. 'Two beings with an excess of conviction and dramatic poses have decided to measure the world on foot. May Elshua protect us on this walk.'
Beneath the glow of the coastal twilight, the unusual alliance was sealed. The great planetary crusade to unveil the limits of that reality was about to begin.