He was standing there.
Hyonkel saw a great fire. His breath was cut off by smoke, carbon, and toxic fumes.
Hyonkel opened his mouth; his heart began to beat fast and he felt tense. The sensation was so intense that the ground beneath him became soaked and turned to mud. Then he began to cry violently and scream as if his mind were commanding him what to do.
But this was familiar to him.
He had seen it before in his life — his body, his shape, even the one standing beside him...
Hyonkel glanced nearby and saw Lauk, his friend, standing quietly there and crying too.
Then Hyonkel woke up suddenly, terrified, his mind confused and fixated on what had happened in the dream. He suddenly felt a sharp cold on his face and realized he was awake. He opened his eyes to find Diogenes placing the bucket he had thrown water with to the side of Hyonkel's face.
Diogenes:
"You woke up, boy? You looked terrified again — the same nightmare, wasn't it? Anyway, you're late today, unusually so. The Council will begin their meeting with the Atlas in the Imperial Palace at noon. You must catch up with them and finish your work before then."
Hyonkel, rising from his bed:
"You're right, I must race the time now."
Hyonkel and Diogenes left the tent and the guards threw them the pickaxes so they could begin their work demolishing buildings and precious artifacts. Diogenes and Hyonkel worked more than the others because they were considered dangerous by the Atlas and his counselors. But Hyonkel had a strong body that had allowed him to pass every test set before him so far. After the two finished the demolition, they returned the battered, nearly broken pickaxes to the guards.
A guard, angry, said to Diogenes, "We give you equipment from the state's funds and you treat it like scrap!?"
The guard then tried to lash Diogenes with his whip, but Hyonkel grabbed the quick rope and, his hand bleeding from the blow, said,
"We apologize for that, sir, but logic dictates that you did not spend a single dirham manufacturing this equipment. Some of it is imported and some was taken from old Artia stores."
The guard trembled at Hyonkel's strength, then put the whip away angrily and stammered, "I'll forgive the old man this time, but if he commits such a foolishness again, it will be on your head, young man."
The guard walked away. Diogenes, shocked, said to Hyonkel,
"That's strange. Do you think those soldiers respect you, Hyonkel?"
Hyonkel, moving to wash his hand from a nearby bucket, replied,
"Maybe they do. Their families haven't been paid because the counselors are lazy, dumping most of their work on thinkers and economists from our state — people like me and Lauk. Because of the worsening situation and the large numbers, those soldiers would be sleeping side by side with us in the tents were it not for the Council's efforts — efforts carried out only by me and Lauk."
Diogenes, worried, asked Hyonkel, "Will this situation remain like this? You and Lauk work nonstop every day and don't get enough sleep; this has gone on for years already. When will you decide to do what's right for them?"
Hyonkel, placing his cloak over his head as he moved toward the Imperial Palace where the Council gathered, said, "Keep up the rioting, you and the others — protest more. Leave the rest to Lauk and me."
Hyonkel moved through the city streets and, before reaching the palace, entered a library. The librarian came out and said to him with shyness and awe, "My lord the sage, what do you want from us today? Medical care, or your usual request?"
Hyonkel thanked the librarian, "Thank you for your care, Lady Beatrice, but I only want paper and an ink pen, as usual."
After getting his supplies, Hyonkel left toward the palace. In the palace square he saw two men criticizing the daily demonstrations and protests, saying between themselves,
"It's impossible for these protests to achieve anything. All they do is clog the drains, block water channels, and smash lamps at night so light won't come into the city. Other acts of unrest do more harm to them than to their enemy. These people should be patient until the queen returns from Arshia with support. Surely things will change then."
Hyonkel, his face covered by his scarf to avoid being recognized, said, "Forgive my intrusion on your discussion, sirs, but childish, emotional wishes for rain are false hopes. You are expecting help from the same people who abandoned you five years ago. Unless you elevate your own affairs and prove yourselves capable — showing that you are a single, resilient state that occupation cannot topple — Arshia will not regard you as a nation deserving of support and able to repay its debts. Otherwise you will become Arshia's slaves, the ruling family will return under the pretense of liberating the state, and we will again be occupied by our own. Then we will be broken people — wished to be treated with contempt rather than dignity."
The man on the right, having listened carefully, replied, "You're right, honorable sir. But you ask for dignity after what we've gone through these years as if it is something any passerby can grant. We are the people of Eriteria; we paid the price for being great and thoughtful long ago, and we still pay it simply because we chose to see the world with nobility and the ideals we aspire to. All are fragile dreams that one day will vanish, as Eriteria before them did."
Hyonkel passed them and entered the palace after being recognized by the guard.
The man on the left said, "So this is Hyonkel... late, as always."
The two then went to protest in the square.
Hyonkel entered the meeting hall and sat at the back among the many thinkers and politicians, who formed a huge circle around the Atlas. The Atlas, for his part, berated his counselors in the hall for failing to solve the never-ending protests.
The Atlas said to one of his counselors,
"You are useless; no solutions are expected from you. Start by asking the state's thinkers if you cannot understand the problems — that's the simplest solution, you fools."
He pointed at one of the Eriterian thinkers and asked him,
"Why are the people of Eriteria and the guards protesting in the square, and why is there unrest?"
The thinker, speaking with difficulty because the sword rested at his neck, said, "The drains and the underground infrastructure of the city need to be unclogged through the moun—"
Before he could finish, the Atlas signaled with his finger for the guard to cut off his head. The guard did so, and the old man's head fell to the ground.
The Atlas said again, "You do not seem to understand. I did not ask to be shown off your scholarly pride. I want a full explanation of the causes of these problems and how we can help the guards maintain order, not how you restore the strength of our slaves so they can raise a revolt."
All the thinkers fell silent; no one opened his mouth. Then the Atlas slapped his short counselor's head and said, "Bring me Hyonkel. Where is Hyonkel the sage? These fools have had their tongues eaten by cats. I want Hyonkel now!"
The counselor Monrach, nervous, said, "But, my lord, we do not want such a charlatan to monopolize the floor because he—"
The Atlas slapped the bald man's head again and angrily said, "Even with your religious status, if you defy my orders, I will cut off your head in this palace myself today!"
Monrach rubbed his head and said, "My lord, it's the drink. Believe me, the matter changes when that man speaks; he buries in his words a loyalty to occupied Eriteria."
The drunken Atlas drew his sword and placed it on Monrach's neck.
Before anything else could happen, Hyonkel stopped all the quarrel and absurdity, stepping forward before the ministers and guards in front of the Atlas's throne.
Hyonkel: "Yes, my lord the Atlas, did you summon me?"
The Atlas put the tip of his blade on the floor with his right hand, pushed his wine aside with his left, and laughed.
The Atlas: "Hyonkel the Wise! At last you appear, boy of Artia."
He personally drew the guards' swords away from Hyonkel's neck, took him and conferred with him as they looked across the square.
The Atlas: "Tell me, Hyonkel, what do you think? Why do they refuse to bow to our rule?"
Hyonkel: "Do you have a way to see Artia from above, my lord?"
The Atlas: "Of course, boy, we tame dragon chicks before they become savage when they grow."
The two mounted one of the dragons and rose high into the sky until they could see Artia from above.
Hyonkel said,
"Artia is a very large land that contains a mountain linking the entire continent's drains of Eriteria. In floods of old, soldiers went on missions into the mountain to clear pits, rocks, soil, or anything blocking the water that carries waste toward the sea.
Therefore, these drains were not cleaned after the war between Eriteria and the Atlas.
For the guards and the people of Artia, this is a harbinger of a larger disease. People have begun to fall ill one after another, poisoned by water, or their lands have flooded."
Hyonkel pointed with his finger toward Mount Heraklitus.
"The best solution is to send men — a contingent to Mount Heraklitus — to remove impurities from the river drains. As for the second problem, it is the distribution of the population. The lands are not equal for everyone."
Hyonkel pointed to the palace and said, "The palace, where you and your ministers and servants live in luxury, is true, but the guards live in the square, which is normally a place for discussion and shopping. Your soldiers are exhausted, my lord. It would be better for you to place the markets on the mountain side so the soldiers can rest in their camps in the royal square as they wish. As for the people of the poor quarters or the state's hostages and detainees from Artia, they occupy an excellent location but are harassed by the sheer number of guards who often take their tents."
The Atlas laughed: "You are very good at this; you have not disappointed me. But why has no one spoken to me about this all this time? Can it be that you are the only one who thought of it?"
Hyonkel said, "No, my lord. It's only that the violence frightened the council's thinkers. I, frankly, object to the defilement of a sacred council such as the Imperial Palace with the blood of its thinkers. We have always raised opinions freely without fear of being wrong."
The Atlas: "Being wrong is unacceptable because it creates more problems."
Hyonkel: "Error is the beginning of success. Suppressing error in a person's heart only breeds obstinacy of opinion, which makes one retreat into a wrong view out of fear of society's violence. I am human; I was born to err, to learn, and to become better. Were it not for error, I would not be Hyonkel the Wise."
The Atlas: "Sophisticated and precise words, but this is unacceptable because you speak of the system of governance. I rule with my men and my counselors; nothing escapes my authority."
Hyonkel: "The consequences of error fall on your men, my lord."
He struck the air as the sun set; their conversation glowed more intensely as Hyonkel pronounced his measured words.
Hyonkel: "For your words to be more accurate, you must always propose. Your ministers and counselors are few; they are not enough to organize the state. You must make a legal constitution to coordinate judicial and economic affairs in the state. Civil matters follow. Then organize an actual ministry or several counselors in the state — for example, a Minister of Agriculture, Economy, and Justice — and appoint a counselor for each authority."
The Atlas laughed, excited: "So you will be the Counselor of Justice — or as you named it, Minister of Justice. You will organize everything you mentioned yourself, and I will grant you some powers to establish reform projects in the state."
Hyonkel was stunned by how easily this came about. Although the nation-builders' project seemed out of reach, this was nearer to the truth. He laughed and said to the Atlas,
"You are intriguing, my lord. I wish you weren't truly drunk."
Then the dragon brought them down to the palace grounds again. The guards returned and surrounded Hyonkel with their swords; the meeting ended. Hyonkel returned at night to the poor quarters. Guards, soldiers, and residents greeted him. Hyonkel commanded respect even from his enemies. When he arrived at the tent he found Diogenes with his head bound in bloody bandages, bleeding around his eye.
Hyonkel said, "So what did you lose this time — an eye or part of your brain?"
Diogenes: "Fortunately, the arrow missed me; it was a superficial wound and I did not die, but my eye has been damaged."
Hyonkel began to write by the candlelight that still illuminated the tent.
Before he could put it out, Diogenes spoke and Hyonkel said, "Do not worry. From now on, the guards will be stationed only at the gate of the quarter. They will not approach the tents anymore because they have been repositioned to the square."
Diogenes: "Do you mean the markets were moved?"
Hyonkel: "Yes, the plan succeeded. Local and civic protests will decrease as a result. True, but I have also authorized the establishment of a Ministry of Justice. From now on, I will make this tent the official Complaints Office of Artia."
Diogenes: "You're crazy, aren't you?"
Hyonkel: "Try to get used to the light from now on — even while you sleep."
Hyonkel began to write on the paper:
"Eriteria was under the rule of a Senate and a governor from the lineage of the true royal family for a very long time. Today I will record in this treatise all the crimes of the royal family against Eriteria's constitution and correct their errors to align with the current constitution of the country."
To be continued.