Chapter 1 — Anniversary
I am Nuo, the Unbegun
the silence before stars learned to burn.
And thus begins the Ninth Wandering of the Unbegun.
Malpe.
Now, children.
Once again
prequel.
The council groans.
I know.
I know.
At this point the Archive has spent so much time travelling backward that chronology itself has developed motion sickness.
First I thought Kasol was the beginning.
Then Goa.
Then Bangalore.
Then Kochi arrived holding toddler credentials and legally seized the throne.
Then Karkala emerged from a drawer carrying the first bone tag.
And now
Malpe.
The council raises a trembling hand.
Another earlier Wandering?
Yes.
But children
this time,
the last one.
The council narrows its eyes.
You’ve said things like this before.
Fair.
Memory has betrayed us repeatedly.
But this time I possess an unusual level of certainty.
Because I searched.
Not casually.
Properly.
Mentally.
Physically.
Through old memories.
Old places.
Old objects.
The drawer.
The tags.
The fragments that survive from all those earlier years.
Children.
Nothing else remains.
No mysterious tenth relic waiting beneath a sock.
No forgotten photograph whispering:
Actually, remember this?
No unexplained place name waiting to suddenly detonate an entire buried journey.
The physical Archive agrees with the mental one.
This is the final tag.
The final Wandering within memory.
The council slowly stamps the record.
LAST PREQUEL.
Probably
Do not.
The council removes the word.
Good.
Malpe.
And this one is special.
Not because it is old.
Not because it had been forgotten.
Not because it contains the beginning of some ritual.
Children.
This was our anniversary.
Axe and Nuo.
One year.
The council smiles.
The two idiots from Karkala had survived twelve months.
An achievement.
Because remember where that story began.
Group assignment.
Stairs.
“Bite me.”
Naked statue.
Cliff.
Sunset.
Bus.
Sacred Pose.
Then an indoor rainstorm engineered using romance,
poor judgment,
and Sharky.
The council nods.
Against all odds,
relationship acquired.
And somehow
one year later
still acquired.
Children.
Milestone.
Now.
The beginning of this Wandering was wonderfully simple.
Axe looked at me.
“It’s gonna be our anniversary.”
The council nods.
Correct.
“We should go somewhere.
Just us.”
And I
nodded.
Yes.
Obviously.
Then came the question.
“Where?”
The council leans forward.
Children.
Some people would have opinions.
A dream destination.
A resort bookmarked six months earlier.
A carefully researched romantic getaway.
Perhaps candles.
Perhaps a scenic hill station.
Perhaps some highly rated establishment where couples wear matching robes and pretend breakfast in bed is not just eating while sitting badly.
The council looks at me.
I said:
“Anywhere you want.”
The council pauses.
No preference?
Children.
I really do not care where I go.
That sounds dismissive.
It is not.
Quite the opposite.
Because I possess a useful travelling trait.
Put me somewhere.
Anywhere.
I will find something to do.
A road.
A shop.
A dog.
A strange object.
A stupid activity.
A questionable decision.
The council nods.
Entertainment will occur.
The location does not need to perform for me.
And if I am travelling with someone I love?
Children.
Half the objective has already completed itself.
I like person.
Person near me.
Nuo happy.
The council stares.
A remarkably advanced emotional philosophy.
Simple man.
Very simple man.
You do not need to build paradise.
Just give me someone I enjoy being around
and enough space to investigate whatever nonsense catches my eye.
The council smiles.
So:
“Anywhere you want.”
Axe considered.
Now,
she did not want some grand expedition.
No ten day disappearance.
No crossing half the country.
No elaborate route.
Two days.
That was it.
A small anniversary getaway.
Romantic.
Manageable.
Far enough to feel like we had gone somewhere.
Close enough that university life would not collapse while we were gone.
The council nods.
And remember where university was.
Manipal.
Children.
Which placed one obvious candidate nearby.
Malpe.
The council turns toward the coast.
Malpe Beach.
Close enough to reach without needing an expeditionary force.
Close enough that we had heard about it constantly.
Stories.
Reputation.
People mentioning the beach.
People having gone there.
People talking about whatever happened there.
The sort of place that becomes familiar in name long before it becomes familiar in reality.
The council nods.
And yet
I had never properly seen it.
That mattered.
Not dramatically.
No:
The ocean calls my soul.
Children.
I was not that poetic.
Just
we’ve heard about this place constantly.
It’s nearby.
I haven’t seen it.
Let’s go.
The council smiles.
Unknown enough to tempt curiosity.
Known enough to require almost no planning.
Perfect.
And Axe liked the idea.
Decision made.
Malpe.
Two days.
Anniversary.
Just us.
The council writes:
QUEST:
ROMANTIC GETAWAY.
LOCATION:
MALPE.
PARTY:
NUO + AXE.
OBJECTIVE:
LOVE EACH OTHER SOMEWHERE ELSE FOR FORTY EIGHT HOURS.
Children.
Beautiful.
Now came transportation.
Bus?
The council nods.
Practical.
Cheap.
Easy.
Axe groaned.
Not romantic enough.
The council laughs.
Apparently romance has vehicle requirements.
Fine.
Bike?
Scooter?
Children.
Neither of us knew how to operate a mechanical horse.
The council pauses.
Still?
Still.
Two university students.
One relationship.
Zero useful two wheeler skills.
Could we learn?
Perhaps.
Was the anniversary trip the appropriate environment for experimental vehicle education?
No.
The council strongly agrees.
And so
there remained one answer.
The council rises.
Carlos.
My glorious chariot of metal.
The council cheers.
Carlos.
Faithful little machine.
Witness to university nonsense.
Participant in bad decisions.
Transporter of idiots.
And unlike a scooter
something I could actually drive.
Perfect.
Romance approved.
We would drive.
Manipal to Malpe.
Just Axe.
Me.
Carlos.
Children.
A proper little road trip.
Now.
Packing.
Axe packed.
The council nods.
Clothes.
Toiletries.
Things one needs for two days away.
Functional human behavior.
And I?
Phone.
Charger.
Wallet.
The council waits.
Anything else?
Essentials complete.
The council stares.
Clothes?
Already wearing them.
Toothbrush?
Civilization contains toothbrushes.
Extra underwear?
Children.
Details.
The council groans.
Apparently Karkala and Bangalore had taught me nothing about luggage.
Incorrect.
They taught me other people pack.
The council collapses.
Phone.
So I can communicate.
Charger.
So phone does not become Bangalore Phone.
Wallet.
So problems can be converted into transactions.
Children.
What else does a man need?
Axe looked at me.
The council recognizes the expression.
Not affection.
Not admiration.
The stare.
The one that says:
I love you,
but you are functionally incomplete.
She looked at my magnificent packing strategy.
Then at me.
Then
packed for me.
The council applauds.
Logistics department restored.
Children.
This was love too.
Not only roses.
Not only rain.
Not only kisses.
Sometimes love is looking at a grown man preparing for a two day trip with nothing but electronics and currency
and silently putting underwear into a bag for him.
The council nods solemnly.
Romance evolves.
And perhaps that tells you where Axe and Nuo were now.
Karkala had been the beginning.
Everything uncertain.
Small sparks.
Curiosity.
A cliff.
The first Sacred Pose.
Malpe?
One year later.
No uncertainty about whether we liked each other.
That argument had been resolved.
We knew.
The relationship had lived long enough to develop systems.
She knew I would not pack.
I knew she would notice.
She probably knew I knew she would notice.
The council examines this.
Weaponized incompetence?
Potentially.
Love?
Also potentially.
Children.
Relationships contain multitudes.
So the bag was packed.
Carlos ready.
Destination selected.
University temporarily abandoned.
And there we stood.
About to leave for our one year anniversary.
The council grows quiet.
There was no weight driving this Wandering.
No grief.
No need to escape.
No academic deadline forcing us into a bus.
No bottle cap trail.
No assignment.
This one began because two people loved each other
and wanted to spend two days somewhere else together.
That is all.
And that is enough.
The council nods.
By now,
the Archive has taught us something important.
A Wandering does not need suffering to qualify.
It does not need distance.
It does not need solitude.
It does not need ten days.
It does not even need to be chosen entirely by me.
Only one question has survived every attempt at definition.
Did I wander?
Children.
Malpe qualifies.
Not because of what I know now.
Because even at the beginning,
the ingredients were there.
Somewhere known by reputation.
Unknown in experience.
Someone I loved beside me.
No grand checklist.
No need to conquer the place.
Just
go.
See.
Be there.
The council smiles.
And so we loaded Carlos.
Well
Axe loaded Carlos.
I contributed Carlos.
Important distinction.
We got in.
I took the driver’s seat.
Axe beside me.
Our little anniversary bag somewhere behind us,
containing approximately one hundred percent more practical preparation than I had personally intended.
The engine started.
The council leans forward.
And children
off we went.
Toward Malpe.
Toward the ocean.
Toward two days that were supposed to be nothing more complicated than:
us.
A little distance from university.
A little time away.
A little romance.
The council raises an eyebrow.
And because this is the Unbegun
Yes.
Obviously things happened.
But not yet.
For now,
there is only Carlos leaving Manipal.
Axe beside me.
One year behind us.
Two days ahead.
And a beach I had heard about often enough
that curiosity had finally begun scratching.
The council settles in.
Thus concludes Chapter One.
The Final Prequel.
The One Year Milestone.
The Anywhere You Want Philosophy.
The Mechanical Horse Problem.
Carlos, Glorious Chariot Of Metal.
And The Packing Intervention.
Children.
The Eighth Wandering had shown me how Axe and Nuo began.
The Ninth begins with something quieter.
They lasted.
One year later,
the two idiots were still in love.
And so,
naturally
they went to the beach.
