Arakana: A Thousand Years After

10th month of 979 After New Beginning (ANB)

"LEGENDS, EPICS, MYTHS—for some people, these are just folklore or child stories, but for some, these are our HISTORY—the lost history," Bhagvat Bhārata said.

 An old man with waist-length white hair, tied at the end with a rubber band, and a very long beard—long enough to make a woman's wig. He wore a purple pheran designed with rose-gold zari. He had a muffled voice due to toothlessness; one might only understand his words by keeping an ear close to his mouth, though even then, it's doubtful. What is written that may be a summary of what he said.

 It was a huge library filled with books, even the windows, and the entrance door were gigantic. Some of the bookshelves contained ancient artefacts or perhaps duplicates thereof. On a shelf behind his back were an idol or a toy of a man riding on a horse and holding a sword, a ball looking like a fortune-telling orb and a mahogany photo frame. It was a photo of a group of long-lost teenage friends, giggling and trying to ruin their picture by making horn-like hand gestures behind each other's heads. Adjacent to that shelf was an enormous photo of a mythological bird—perhaps a phoenix, possibly not. Many torn books were untidily placed on the desk in front of Bhagvat. Ilm was there to chat with his grandfather, but he grew impatient with his mythos geek grandfather.

 "Amm, Grandpa, I came here to know about our family business. I mean, Paradise Industry is one of the largest companies. Isn't it difficult to manage a big company? Can you tell me about that without any legend-talks?" asked Ilm. He frowned and made a fake smile. He was a nine-year-old boy. Like Bhagvat, he also had long hair, but ponytailed and some strands of hair covering his forehead; he had a pleasant yet so serious look.

 "Bephore eyu going tho knouu awouth ar phamili, eyu ned tho andastant lejendz," Bhagvat replied unclearly.

 "What? What are you saying? Please, say it again. How many times I've said to wear 'speech clearer.'" Ilm became frustrated. He came close to Bhagvat.

 "At first you need to understand legends."

 "Eh? How can legends be useful to manage a company?" Ilm wasn't a great fan of mythological stories. He couldn't find any link between his family business and legendary stories.

 Bhagavat replied, "Well, it's not about the story, but the teachings—"

 TAP, TAP.

 He could not complete his words. He was interrupted by a sudden sound. Some people might be coming to the library. The entrance door was opened. Fortunately, they were Bhagvat's daughter and son-in-law, Pema Bhārata and Shakhai Amir. A newborn baby boy was in Pema's hand.

 "Oh, I knew it—you guys will be here. Ilm, come here, look at your brother. Baba, here, your little grandson," Pema said, being overjoyed.

 Ilm came running to them. It was like, this newborn just wiped away all of Ilm's frustration and boredom. He was looking at him with his wide eyes. It could be his surprise to see a newborn for the first time or perhaps the feeling of being a big brother. There could be another reason for Ilm's surprise: his little brother's appearance. That sleeping infant had lanugo but navy in colour, it was quite a surprise as everyone in this family was brunette. And then, the newborn smiled and everyone in the library witnessed the prettiest thing in the world.

 "Oh, watta bautiphul baby. I see itz a heldiboi. Wat gonna be hez name?" Bhagvat said.

 Pema and Shakhai might not have understood all his words, but they caught his last one and understood what he meant.

 "Shakhai and I come to this name," Pema said. "Rov. Isn't it a good name, Baba?" Pema was a delicate fair-skinned woman with beautiful eyes like lotus petals. She had charcoal-black hair.

 Shakhai was the current head of Paradise Industry, a grand company that has been under house Bhārata from generation to generation. Even though he wasn't a Bhārata, for Bhagavat, he was the perfect choice as the successor.

 Bhagvat polished his moustache, then said, "Absolutely."

 Then both men looked at Pema to continue the ritual.

 "Then, that's it," Pema held high the newborn like she once did with Ilm after naming him and said, "Oh my son, from now, the whole world will call you Rov. You are special, and so is your destiny. In the upcoming ages, I hope you will do something great that the world will remember you forever."

 But some questions rose in Ilm's mind. But why is he special? And his destiny? Why does the world have to remember him? Or, is it simply a ritual? Or, is it that if you are born as a human, you are special, and it is important to leave a mark on humanity that they can recall you?

 Ilm didn't ask anything. From now on he got a new playing companion.