"If I were to ask you: what is the most important factor that keeps the universe, the cosmos, and all foundations of life on track?"
You might answer: Time!
It maintains the flow of life's building blocks and preserves everything in its perfect order.
Perhaps you would answer: Space!
For without it, there would be no concept of a place — the container where time and all governing rules of existence reside.
It would also be correct to say: Destruction and Creation.
After all, they are the pillars that prevent life from stagnating or oversaturating, maintaining a harmonious cycle.
There are also those who would answer that the true pillars are the cycles of Life and Death, which together form Reincarnation.
Without them, the universe would collapse under the weight of accumulated existences — losing room for new creations that keep the cosmos in constant growth, and eventually falling into endless destruction.
"Well! If I were the one answering that question, I'd say none of those answers are wrong."
All these concepts are essential for maintaining harmony, balance, and the cycle of all existence.
But I would also say the answer is incomplete. Something fundamental is missing — something required for all these concepts to function properly.
"What gives life to all these concepts are: stories, plots, myths, fables, and legends."
Think about it:
What would a life be without a story to follow?
A life that creates no tales of its own?
A life without myths and legends passed down to future generations?
Without mysteries that allow the mind to flourish?
What would life be without fables, the very foundations of ethics and morality?
Concepts and life itself could not exist, because when all concepts merge… they create Destiny.
And what feeds Destiny are stories and plots.
Without that nourishment — the roads that guide everything forward — all things would be forced to remain still, fading and decaying into oblivion.
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SOMEWHERE IN THE GREAT AND VAST UNIVERSE
A place where houses were old stone structures, and the streets were nothing but soil and gravel.
The townsfolk were finishing another long, exhausting day of work.
Some returned with axes in hand, calluses visible, but with bright and satisfied smiles — so sincere they were contagious.
Housewives carried buckets of water or piles of laundry, chatting with warm smiles as they prepared for their husbands' arrival after a harsh day's labor.
Life there was far from luxurious or filled with comforts.
But that small village overflowed with prosperity and genuine happiness — a simple satisfaction of living a life where nothing lacked at the table.
At the village center, a group gathered around a large crackling bonfire, the flames blending with laughter and the clinking of wooden mugs full of beer — their relief after a difficult day.
Some sang as the stars began to appear above them, becoming their daily audience and adorning the breathtaking sky.
''Ah, life is good!''
One of them raised his mug high, grateful for the priceless gift of being alive.
His companion beside him did the same, meeting his mug in silent camaraderie.
''Indeed, my good friend!''
''We are blessed to have this life.''
''We wake each morning with the warmth of our beloved wives. Our jobs are tiring, yet prosperous, ensuring nothing is missing from our homes. And when we return, our beloveds greet us with warm food and a smile that melts our hearts.''
''I couldn't ask for anything more!''
He nodded, engraving those words into his heart, reminding himself to always be grateful.
That place breathed old, poetic stories. A perfect place to hear new tales being born.
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NEAR THE VILLAGE ENTRANCE
Light, calm footsteps echoed along the small road leading toward the village ahead.
On the horizon, smoke rose to the sky — clear signs of life.
"Smile."
A faint smile appeared on the face of the owner of those violet eyes fixed on the smoke.
''Looks like I made it in time.''
''I'll be able to hear plenty of stories from these villagers.''
''Even from here, I can feel the power of their tales resonating strongly.''
Through his deep gaze, powerful vibrations of fables seemed to spill from that region.
His heart beat with excitement for what was to come.
The young man, dressed in shades of pitch-black and violet, continued walking toward the village just meters away.
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BACK TO THE VILLAGERS
The murmurs continued as beer slowly disappeared from the wooden mugs.
The warm, welcoming atmosphere was something no one there could deny.
''Hey, Rúlio!''
One of the men called out to another standing near the table with a large barrel atop it.
Rúlio turned toward the voice, seeing the raised mug.
''You want another one?''
He shouted.
''Please, my good lad!''
''Do this favor for this tired old man!''
Rúlio made a face and walked toward the man sitting by the fire.
''Stop pretending you're some decrepit old geezer.''
''You're only forty, you lazy bum.''
Rúlio, a red-haired man in his thirties, spoke in exasperation.
''Hahahahaha! Alright, alright!''
''Just one more mug. I'll get the next one myself.''
Rúlio sighed heavily.
It was always the same. He would say it was just one more mug but…
''Before I know it, I've become his personal waiter.''
Rúlio grabbed the man's mug, turned to the barrel, and filled it once again.
When he turned back, he noticed a stranger — someone new — speaking with the man by the bonfire.
''Hello, sir. I've just arrived at this village from a distant place.''
''I was told that the people here are skilled at telling beautiful stories.''
''So I decided to come personally and see if it was true.''
The mysterious young man, wrapped in dark clothes and a hood, spoke. Upon hearing "stories," the older man perked up.
''Hahahaha! Young man, if you came for stories, this is the right place!''
''Come, take a seat.''
He patted the empty spot on the wooden log bench.
He smiled contently, then asked curiously:
''You say you've come from far away, young man?''
The youth nodded.
''Indeed. I wandered for a while until I reached the northern continent. There, many told me about this southern region, where people are known to be great storytellers.''
The man nodded proudly.
''It's true, lad.''
He looked up at the sky, as if reminiscing.
''This region was shaped by the stories left behind by our ancient people.''
''But tell me, my good young man… what is your name?''
The boy smiled, pulling back his hood.
''Forgive my lack of manners.''
''My name is Abel. I am someone passionate about hearing the stories of others.''
''And I look forward to hearing yours!''
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[STORY BEING DEVELOPED BY THE AUTHOR OF "I Am Loved and Blessed by Time" – Eternal Dream]
Author's Note:
[Hello, readers! I'm very happy to announce the launch of my second series!]
[I'm excited about this moment and hope for your support and feedback.]
[Leave your ratings and comments sharing your thoughts on the story.]
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[Remember: a story only exists because there are readers to bring it to life.]
[See you next time!]