Chapter 1: The solitude of the road - Part 1

March 1999

The ‘89 BMW convertible I’d rented drifted along the winding roads of Manipura, rocking gently, like a cradle. I wasn’t sure if the motion was soothing or irritating , but it was clearly locked in a kind of trance. The wind whipped across our face—well, my face—and the sun bore down, burning the white fur of which i took such care,

We’ve always been a little vain, even for a cat.

Something had drawn me here, to this far off continent.. I wasn’t sure what, but for weeks I’d been waking up drenched in sweat, with a blurry memory. An echo, an unyielding lingering feeling that I had left something, somewhere, unfinished.

A primal call, a voice, a place. Perhaps it was nothing, but yet here I was.

The call was strong enough to drag me out of my usual meticulous routine. . I didn’t know exactly what it meant, but I’d felt it every night back in my house in Mauria. The feeling would creep around underneath my skin and shake me awake once it had fully settled in. Repeatedly I found myself waking up covered in sweat, the same uneasy echo resonating in my mind. Again, and again… We don’t usually dream, or at least, not like this. Not with this kind of intensity. It was as if something had been searching for me, something I couldn’t ignore anymore.

I gripped the steering wheel, trying to stay focused. I liked the feel of the leather beneath my fingers; it made me feel in control, grounded.

"Mr. Mahayan, put some music on or something," said a voice, breaking the silence.

I glanced to my right. Mi Fan, a young tigress, was looking at me with half-closed eyes, clearly bored. Her great-grandfather, one of my old friends who was barely still alive, had asked me to bring her along so she could learn how to protect "someone important."

Although, so far, it seemed more like I was the one looking after her. If anyone here needed a babysitter, it certainly wasn’t me.

I didn’t mind. After all, I’d watched many folks grow old and die during my time with the company. And taking care of others... well, that was something I’d done for quite a long time.

"Mr. Mahayan, the music," little Fan said again,pulling me out of my daze, with that slight tone of exasperation that was starting to become her signature.

I sighed, smiling to myself, and put on one of my favorite CDs. It was a collection of the best TV show mixes, theme songs, and other assorted tracks. I had to admit, the Compact Disc

was one of the best inventions of recent times. We weren’t particularly impressed by most new gadgets, but this... well, this I did like. I would have loved to share it with my old friends.

The Cheers theme song began to play. An old show, one of those they used to air on the magic box. Without realizing it, I started humming along to the melody as the notes filled the car.

I felt Mi Fan’s gaze on me. I glanced sideways, only to find her icy eyes fixed on me, with an expression that could melt even my enthusiasm.

“What?” I asked, feigning innocence. “It’s a classic.”

She kept staring at me for another second, then closed her eyes, as if deciding it wasn’t worth the argument.

Mi Fan held her gaze for a second longer before closing her eyes, as if deciding it wasn’t worth the argument.

“Just as stoic as your great-grandfather,” I said, gently patting her head. She didn’t respond, just leaned back a little more in her seat.

I kept humming as the landscape of Manipura rolled out before us.

The mountains loomed in the distance, majestic but strangely still. The wind that whispered through the trees in the distance carried something more than just air, something that felt like it was watching us. We’d been here before. Or at least it felt like we had.

Every now and then, I could hear the little tigress quietly follow along with a familiar song, humming just low enough to think I wouldn’t notice. But of course, we always notice.

“You know, in Columbo, he never actually said ‘Just one more thing’ in the scripts?” I commented suddenly. Mi Fan gave me a sidelong glance, wondering if I’d lost my mind or if I genuinely thought that was relevant.

“Yes, yes, I know what you’re thinking. Everyone remembers it that way, but in the original scripts, it was never written. Peter Falk improvised it,” I smiled. “That ‘just one more thing’ seemed insignificant, but it was his masterstroke. Right when the suspect thought everything was over, Columbo would catch them with that last question.”

Mi Fan closed her eyes again, apparently deciding not to indulge my rambling any further. But I noticed her right ear twitch ever so slightly. I knew she was listening.

“Anyway,” I continued, not missing a beat, “Columbo always gave the impression he didn’t know what he was doing, until you realized he’d been ten steps ahead the whole time. Kind of like... me,” I added with a smug grin.

This time, Mi Fan cracked one eye open, just a sliver, her expression a mix of disbelief and resignation. Then, she settled back into her relaxed posture, returning to her own thoughts.

The afternoon began to tint the sky with gold, and in the distance, I spotted the remnants of the transcontinental train. A monumental feat of engineering and ambition, the tracks that once crossed the ocean, connecting continents on the countries like Mauria and Manipura. Now, they were just a memory. To most, a relic. To us, something more. A sharp pang in my chest reminded me of adventures long past. We remembered it all too well. The happy times… and the not-so-happy ones.

“Look, Mi Fan, the transcontinental tracks,” I said, gesturing toward the rusted rails.

For the first time in the entire trip, Mi Fan leaned forward with a spark of interest. The tracks, though worn by time, still had an imposing presence, vestiges of an era of progress. Though now they were only used locally, far from the grand Mahayan technology that had once caused so much harm.

Her tail swayed back and forth, a mix of curiosity and excitement evident in her movements. Maybe her great-grandfather just wanted his great granddaughter to see beyond Zhou. If so, I could take this as a vacation.

I turned my gaze back to the road and sighed. We just needed to reach that small town that had been haunting my dreams. Hemlock Ridge. Check that everything was in order, leave, and, if everything went smoothly, enjoy the beach of Svadhistana or some other place where the air wasn’t so heavy.