She wasn't against chatting, but sometimes Anar threw himself at her memory so ravenously that the sianae felt like a mother cat descended upon by a crowd of starving overgrown kittens. (The poor thing's emaciated body arched like a bridge, feet barely touching the ground, looking at the world oh-so-plaintively, jumping constantly at yet another nose poking in her long-suffering abdomen with particular force.) Anar wanted to know absolutely everything, and constantly jumped from one topic to another like a crazy cat. Aniallu worked up a whopping migraine trying to keep up, and one that neither drugs nor magic could cure.

The only thing that made Alu's life somewhat easier and allowed her a bit of respite were the multitude of traps. Most of them were still intact from the ancient times, when pilgrimages into the Catacombs (at that time not forbidden, of course) was a way to test one's knowledge of ceremonies and rituals, which every respectable Rualite had to pass every sixteen years. Strict defensive spells did not react to travelers who sung the correct hymns, while springing cruelly on anyone who had the misfortune of mixing up the words of a prayer. Traps of this kind were of little trouble to the pair because Aniallu had procured in advance a copy of the memory of a priest who had once gotten all the way to the Tombs. But there were other kinds of traps – much more recent and sharp-toothed. "Most certainly my mother's doing," Anar grumbled, deactivating yet another deadly trick... Grumbled, and then continued his interrogation with relish.

Of course, the process wasn't easy on Anar by any means; sometimes, when firing a question at Alu, the answer would plunge him into a stupor for hours afterwards, as he struggled to fathom what he'd heard. It was one shock after another, the biggest of which was the notion that the Great Mother of All Cats did not actually create the Infinite. Far from it. It existed long before she came here from beyond the Rib of Realms – barriers that had sundered the Infinite into two infinitely enormous sections.

"And what's on the other side?" Anar inquired with trepidation.

"No one knows," Aniallu responded. "The Great Migration robbed Alasais and her entourage (we call them 'Nae,' 'the Arrivals,') of their memory."

"Completely?"

"Well, a bit survived, but alas, you can't imagine what the whole cake looks like from just this little crumb. Our Alasais was truly luckier than the other Nae. She at least remembered what happened in the first hours after the Migration." Aniallu scratched her nose, recalling, and then recited: "'We were scattered along the slope of the Silver Cliffs, not far from the Lake of Woe. We looked around in confusion for a few minutes, watching our shells and everything we'd brought with us from the beyond the Rib get destroyed. While I still had legs, I stood up and kicked one of them with all my might... I don't remember whom. Probably someone I didn't get along with very well in that former life... And then...'" Alu opened her eyes wide. "And then the Infinite suddenly decided to break his Memory open before the Nae – like some sort of fantastical menu from which each could choose a meal to their liking. The Nae were granted the opportunity to meld with a certain element (if you can call dreams, death or emotions 'elements') and gain power over it – infinitely beyond that of any god."

Anar was tugging at the corner of his mouth, concealing a smile. It was nice to think his people's patron was still an enormously influential being.

Some of the Nae weren't actually offered a choice," Alu went on. "Lajnaen, for example, could become nothing but Light (in some sense she was Light itself even before the Migration). Others had quite a variety to choose from. And they all – Nelleyn, Aellenica, Mercurion, Veindor, Tialianna and Alasais – had to quickly make their choice, based on their goals and... talents."

"And out of that whole smorgasbord, Alasais chose emotions and feelings," Anar chuckled.

"Yes. Why, what would you have chosen?"

He thought for a second.

"Magic, probably. Or knowledge, or... no, I can't decide so quickly. But definitely not something so... ambiguous. I wouldn't have even considered it."

"Well, she apparently considered it," Alu shrugged. "She didn't think about power or about serving the greater good. Alasais simply wanted to make her life easier, so she asked the Infinite for what she herself – as she thought at the time – was lacking: control over emotions and the gift of understanding the nature of others' souls."

"Did she come to regret it?"

"No. As far as I know, none of the Nae regretted their choices, although some of them, in addition to their new abilities, received a ton of other responsibilities. The Infinite called upon them to serve him, entrusting to them the fates of trillions of creatures inhabiting him."

"So there was a catch to the deal. But I wanted to ask you, what made him so charitable?"

"The Infinite wanted to change. Utter chaos reigned in him; nothing had a place or purpose," Alu frowned. "One of our priestess instructors described very graphically this... universal bedlam. The high priests of Veindor (the Nae of death) have a remarkable gift. Even if you pass one of them through a meat grinder, his soul will remain in his body and will proceed to rebuild the hacked-up carcass. The Infinite, when the Nae had just come into him, was very much like one of those priests, albeit with some reservations. First of all, despite the fact that the Infinite's 'body' was made up of a similar ground material, his 'cells' kept their capacity for life. Surrounded by alien 'cells,' which by virtue of their alien nature could not normally interact with the Infinite's, his 'cells' slowly degenerated, but carried on nonetheless... dragging out their miserable existence. Secondly, the Infinite couldn't imagine the proper makeup of his new body, since he'd never had a body to begin with. Thirdly, every single one of his 'cells' is inexpressibly precious: each one is a separate, intelligent being – with its own soul, desires, preferences, abilities and feelings, and the Infinite, unlike Veindor's priests, couldn't allow one 'cell' to die away while ordering another to split, the third to change its form and function, and so on. On the contrary, he had to come up with his own makeup, as it were, in such a way as to provide an environment for every being in him, no matter its nature; moreover, this environment should allow the creature to develop its talents and inclinations – to be itself, essentially, while not preventing others from being themselves. That and only that is what would allow the Infinite to grow, make him more harmonious. And to solve this most puzzling of all puzzles, he, who was more able to feel than to think, needed extra brains – the brains of Alasais, Tiana and Veindor, through whom he thought up the Paths and much more. Brains in the figurative sense, of course. Phew."

"What do you mean, he thought them up with their brains?" asked Anar, not allowing her to catch her breath.

"The Nae gave a large part of their minds in service of the Infinite. For example, Tialianna the individual cannot influence the decisions of Tialianna the Power – cannot create somebody's Path on a whim, motivated by anything other than the creature's best interests."

"This all seems somehow... backwards. I can't make heads or tails of it..." Anar shook his head. "I always thought that Alasais had created each one of us with a certain purpose in mind, and all our gifts – everything that makes our souls unique – are given to us so we can accomplish that purpose as quickly as possible."

"Creatures are eternally thinking that way when looking at their rulers," Aniallu spread her arms. "It doesn't even occur to them that they're not the ones who need to be laboring for the benefit of their kings and queens, but the opposite – the rulers ought to be working for their happiness and well-being."

"Alasais works for us? I can't seem to recall a time when a worker treated his employer the way Alasais treats us!"

"You just haven't met my maid Shada yet," Aniallu groused. "The slightest thing and she'll have your tail."

"You mean – everything was the total opposite of what I thought?"

"Yes. Our souls are not created to suit some Path; rather, our Path is created based on the nature of our souls. That's exactly why they say that going against your Path is going against your own soul. It's all done for our sakes, to help us live well. Tialianna is like a career-counseling service and a dating service all in one."

"But if Alasais doesn't create our souls, why do all Alae look and act alike?"

"In the Infinite, billions upon billions of souls circulate from world to world. They were born somewhere beyond the Rib of Realms. Alasais keeps an eye out and pockets the ones that she finds suitable."

"And that happens with everyone, not just cats?"

"Right. Each Nae is constantly hunting for new souls. The less selective ones end up with huge broods, while those that are very fastidious, like Alasais and Veindor, have to make do with a sad little handful of children."

"When you speak of all these... powers like that, so plainly, it makes me uneasy," Anar said, scratching his ear.

"You'll get used to it. A lot faster than you think. Everything I'm telling you isn't some pretty myth or holy legend. It's what surrounds us every day, what makes up the world we live in. Like it or not."

"And if we don't like it?" Anar picked up the idea. "If I don't want to follow my Path, for instance, no matter how fantastic it may be?"

"You don't have to follow it," Aniallu shrugged her shoulders somewhat sadly. "No one's forcing you. Tiana merely lays out the road signs: to the right, happiness. To the left... hold on, how was it phrased... you'll come to a 'dead end of despair and eternal regret.' But it's up to you which way to go. Do you want to self-destruct? Go ahead! Our Path doesn't take away our freedom, but knowing about it helps us avoid mistakes and waste our lives."

"You mean, every being has only one road to happiness? All other paths ultimately lead to a dead end?"

– "No, of course not. You'll end up at a dead end if you decide to move in a direction that takes you away from your Path. If you choose a trail that runs parallel to your Path, you can be fully satisfied with life. But you're very unlikely to experience the powerful and profound sensation of fullness of being that all the beings following their Path closely know so well."

"And those who stray don't get punished?"

"Of course not. They are pitied – indeed, they willingly rejected their own happiness! But their choice is respected."

"And these... Tanae, children of Tialianna – the same goes for them?"

"The Tanae... pretend," Aniallu sighed. "Only they're pretty lousy at it."

"Probably because snakes make lousy actors," Anar butted in.

"Yeah. That's where we differ. The Tanae are not overly fond of those who willingly stray from their Path. After all, in so doing they harm not only themselves, but all those whose destinies are somehow tied to their Path. And since all our Paths are weaved together, interconnected... Well, the Tanae consider those beings malicious pests. An action – any action – taken in accordance with one's Path is a good thing in their view, whereas any off-Path choice is most certainly evil."

"And what do you think about that?"

"I... I'm somewhere in the middle. I can't think as broadly as the High Tanae or as narrowly as some of my fellow cats. I'm not able to fully fathom what harm off-Pathers do to the Infinite, but I clearly see hardships suffered by the creatures closest to most of these voluntary sufferers. I'm not even talking about those who oppose the very notion of a Path; in their struggle for the right to hold their own opinions (that Tiana is supposedly trying to rob them of), they actually lose their identity, as their entire existence turns into one big protest. I'm talking about those who have sacrificed themselves for a higher cause. We often justify the abuses we suffer – that we're doing it for the sake of peace and comfort for those around us – not even realizing how horrid it is to live with someone totally miserable, a smothered soul...

"I remember our ambassador's assistant in the human city of Elidan marveledat one such martyr for a cause.

"Some petty Elidanite aristocrat came back from a missionary trip in faraway lands with his young wife, whom he'd saved from a band of cannibal bandits – fierce, spiny and cat-eyed."

Anar bust out laughing.

"A pretty story, isn't it? Like a romance novel," Aniallu went on. "The trouble is that in this story, after volume one ends with a luxurious wedding ceremony, volume two follows, and it in no way resembles light reading for pleasure. Our heroes lived long, but far from happily. Alas, just like with all the poor saps who don't take the trouble to understand the nature of their spouse's soul before wedding them. The 'princess' he'd saved – let's call her T – was a passionate personality, romantic, hungry for adventures, wonders and all sorts of... lavish pleasures. She saw in her betrothed a heroic rescuer who would get her out of the backwoods and usher her into a grownup fairy tale."

"I take it, she was ultimately disillusioned."

"Exactly right. He was a homebody at heart. That little ordeal with the 'spiny, cat-eyed' types completely satisfied his rather modest appetite for danger and thrill-seeking. Having accomplished his heroic deed, as befits any noble young man, he could get away from the hustle and bustle of the city with a clear conscience, retreat to his country estate, drink tea with his neighbors, raise children, teach his tenants to grow cabbage and work on his potbelly. Naturally, his wife felt totally cheated."

"An endless, cozy, stifling boredom," Anar remarked in a knowing tone.

"Exactly," sighed Aniallu.

"And there weren't any... distractions around at all?" the Alae raised his brows suggestively.

"There were, of course. But T was a virtuous character. She never even considered paying for her mistake at the expense of her husband's peace of mind and good name. She firmly discouraged all attempts at courtship and tried to appreciate the beauty of aimless walks through meadows, cross stitching and Sunday bingo games with the neighbors. But, of course, she could not reshape her soul. Her whole nature rebelled against it."

"Her husband didn't fare any better. She was no more able to make him happy than he was her. They had absolutely no common interests, their personalities did not mix, and they were unable to grow any spiritual bond. And although he had no cause to formally blame his wife for anything, seeing her listless eyes, sensing the insincerity in her every word and gesture was nevertheless awful for him. Day in and day out he regretted his thoughtlessness, but what was done was done. They're lucky Veindor didn't send them children..."

"I don't understand. What kept them together, then?"

"That's the most interesting part. Elidanite morals frown on divorce. Marriage vows are sacred. You need to fight for the family to the end. If you can't get along with your spouse, one of you must be mired in sin, and you have to either correct yourself, or expostulate with your wayward half."

"I think that's stupid. Why build such a complex system around the fact that two personalities simply don't go well together?"

"That's your opinion... and mine, but not theirs," Alu smiled. "Elidanites have a specific kind of soul; for them this formula works splendidly. They set out fairly strict and unusual requirements for themselves, but their spirits are only strengthened by them. Their sublime souls, bathed in tears, are cleansed of impurity (which they accumulate by associating with selfish creatures like you and me) and experience true bliss."

"So, what happened to the couple?" Anar asked, frowning. "As I understand it, our heroine was not one of those sublime creatures, and all that aimless suffering would not do her any good?"

"That's right. Speaking frankly, it wasn't beneficial to her soul whatsoever. But she didn't realize that. She didn't understand that her soul's anatomy was completely different, that the personality traits that didn't allow her to live happily with her husband were deep-rooted, intrinsic properties of her nature, and not the result of poor upbringing. You can't cure what's not a disease. Everyone is different. What prompts one person to spiritual growth kills another's spirit. You can't change the nature of a soul, just as you can't hide it forever. Sooner or later it will come into its own, one way or another... Alas, it's very difficult to get these simple truths across to some creatures, because they love to quickly dub anything that might have helped a handful of beings spiritual panacea. Living among these generalizers, our heroine had no idea what to do. Leave her husband? That would be committing a gross offense, a betrayal, giving in to the worst evil, stomping on her soul... as she understood it then. Or keep up this morally consecrated farce that was bleeding them both dry? Both choices were so horrendous that she could not find a better solution than taking her own life.

"Fortunately, before the sentence was carried out, she confided about her plan to her only girlfriend, the very same ambassador's assistant I mentioned. And she, the girlfriend, taking advantage of the fact that T was not quite herself, lured her to Anlimor during the Great Bathing and tried her hardest to get her friend to thoroughly compromise herself. A week of debauchery and a couple visits to soul doctors had a very sobering effect on the 'princess.' She found that her soul was jubilant, and hungry for more spicy adventures! Oh! Needless to say, she was very ashamed at first to admit that she was such a bad girl. But another surprise awaited her – it turned out that in Anlimor, her behavior was looked upon very differently. The local population did not judge her decision to leave her husband, nor did they begrudge any of her sensual desires. Just the opposite – it was the fact that she had been living a lie for so many years, playing a pious ascetic, tormenting herself and fooling her poor husband, that was met with general reproach. Lady T is now an Anlimorian courtesan, one of the golden thousand, actually, and incredibly happy. As for her husband, the 'widower,' he remarried a fine Elidanite lady – well-bred, modest and very religious. And the two are blissfully happy together."

"I love happy endings," Anar cracked a smile. "But what would have become of them if there were no Anlimor? If she had nowhere to go? It seems that's really how the happy ending was procured."

"That's true," Aniallu nodded. "And is precisely why the Infinite strives tenaciously toward diversity – so that everybody would have an alternative. In the majority of cases our self-loathing stems not from genuinely detesting certain qualities of ours, but from not knowing where we could fit in the way we really are. Who will love us? Will we ever feel at home anywhere? It seems to us (and the illusion is perpetuated by various godlings) that things are the same everywhere: interchangeable morals and ideals... There's nowhere to run. But that is not so. The Infinite has made certain that everyone has a place to run. We call this principle "the right to a home." I can live at peace, openly, without hiding my nature, without... puffing myself up and out of my skin, precisely because I am absolutely certain that, with a little hard work, I can always find creatures who will love me for who I am, without any embellishments. That doesn't mean I don't aspire to better myself. But that's just it – I want to genuinely better myself, not create the illusion thereof in the eyes of others. And that "better" version of myself is also truly, authentically mine, and not borrowed from some alien system of moral values."

"The part about creatures is clear," Anar smiled, indulging her fervor. "But the home... Are we talking geography, territory?

"Everything. The Infinite does everything possible to ensure that each of the multitude of worlds, countries and cities comprising him has a face of its own: its own way of life, tradition, culture, dominant worldview, its own... spirit. It is to this end that he engages, first and foremost, in the selection and sorting of souls."

"Nothing but a bunch of Ruals all around?" Anar asked in horror.

He suddenly pictured the Infinite as a fat warty toad, each one of its warts containing someone's "city in a bubble."

"No, of course not! They're not like Rual at all," Alu crinkled her nose. "Rual is a city of rigid isolation. Whereas the overwhelming majority of other countries are not. They represent communities of likeminded creatures, one's kin in soul and spirit, who view the world in a similar way and wouldn't dream of hiding from said world. Some of these communities, primarily the large commercial cities, even embrace different cultures, glad to include creatures of all persuasions, provided they display similar genuine tolerance toward their neighbors." Alu paused. "However, even open borders are not absolute. Every place operates by its own rules, has its own notions of acceptable and unacceptable, polite and impolite, and one must try not to violate those. You may travel from one country to another and learn about their culture, but you mustn't forget that you are a guest. That land has its own masters; it is their home, and you must respect their right to live as they like. There are but two exceptions or reasons to intervene in the internal business of a foreign society. Firstly, every government must provide all dissident citizens an opportunity to leave without hindrance, and take their belongings with them. Secondly, immigrants must be made aware of all the norms and regulations present in their new place of residence, which they must abide by or be punished to the full extent of the law. In Enhiarg, all of the above has been reflected in the so-called 'Ellis' Note,' signed by all of Naeria and many other countries outside its borders."

"And is it enforced?"

"You bet. It has improved Enhiarg greatly. Before that, everyone was constantly trying to educate everyone else, getting tangled up in other people's business, and now... they've harmonized. There's no other word for it. When you have your own patch of space – your home, where you find support and understanding, where everything is as you like, and you know no one's thinking of encroaching upon it – that has a strong calming effect. Knowing that in a sea of vice there's an island of virtue, where you can always take refuge, safe from interaction with all manner of lawless riffraff, you become noticeably more tolerant of others' quirks. The important thing is to understand who you are and where your island is."

"Being honest with yourself, honest with others, and clear rules of the game," Anar mumbled pensively. "And where does one buy a magnifying glass to examine the pimples on his soul?"

"Oh! There are tons of opportunities! Where there's a will..."

"What, some people don't want to?"

"Are you kidding? Creatures are always running around with magnifying glasses examining anything you can imagine, but they forget about their own beloved selves. It's often pretty painful to dig deep into one's own soul, plus there's the opinion that doing so is for weaklings. Some consider it the lot of pampered, cosseted creatures... creatures like you and me. Pondering nature, one's Path and all that sublime hokum – how can anyone think about such abstract topics when they haven't yet attained fame and fortune, haven't yet surrounded themselves with servants and lickspittles... Or when the world as a whole is such a damned mess?! It doesn't even occur to them that perhaps they're going about solving their problems in life all wrong, and that the world is a mess precisely because no one thinks about all these 'abstract topics.' Everything begins here, " she tapped her forehead with her claw. "You can't begin to answer the question, 'What should my country be like?' when you haven't determined for yourself 'Who am I? What are my goals and values?' And help is right there, under their noses. In most worlds, teachings exists (religious and not), that aim to help creatures to look themselves in the eye with minimal discomfort and difficulty. But they don't want to take advantage."

"And... doesn't that seem like coercion to you – somebody sticking your face in your own pile of muck? Or bridling you so as to lead you in the right direction?"

"No, it's entirely different. Even the Tanae behave themselves. If you ever happen to peek into one of Tiana's temples, her priests will converse with you earnestly, not insisting on anything, not predicting anything, just helping you better understand your own unique character, disposition and weaknesses; they'll ask you about your current goals and unassumingly point out the pros and cons of those goals and whether they correspond to your temper and abilities. And then, once you've been cleansed of everything superficial, you can choose your future path for yourself, with a fresh, open outlook on life and on yourself. And the path you do choose, according to statistics, will most likely match your true Path, which, mind you, the Tanae hadn't even mentioned during your conversation. Fellshior, Tiana's High priest in Briaellar, has a funny on the topic: 'Tialianna is actually very understanding. She knows what's best for you. You yourself can also sense what is good for you. So, why is it so surprising that two wise creatures think alike?!'"

"I like your world. But it all sounds a little..."

"Too good to be true? Like a sweet, unattainable dream?"

"Yeah."

"For a long, long time it truly was a dream. For many epochs in most worlds, millions of creatures unknown to one another dreamed of a world in which each of them could live in harmony with their own souls, where there's a place for everyone. They devised scientific theories and philosophical treatises, wrote poems and songs that firmly stamped in the Infinite's memory. We owe a great deal of gratitude to them – the idealists, the dreamers – for the world we now live in. The Infinite heard them. It's their designs he's realizing through the Nae."

"And without the Nae, the dream would have remained a dream?"

"I don't know. I don't know, Anar. Maybe with time he would have managed to create some sort of collective intelligence to control himself... shape himself out of the available material... I don't know."

"Does it matter how the dream came true? The important thing is that it did," Anar stretched blissfully.

"Well... to be perfectly accurate, I wouldn't say it's already come true. It's still in the process of... coming true. And at a turtle's pace. I assure you that there are still plenty of sharp bones in this juicy hunk of meat. As soon as you let your guard down, one of them will surely pierce you in the palate."

"You speak as if you've got a couple of them still sticking out of yours," said Anar.

"I do. One of our rulers – one of the paws, so to speak, of our furry society – apparently doesn't give a hoot about all these exalted principles. Thanks to his doing, we're all in great danger now."

"And what's threatening us?"

Death," Aniallu stated bluntly.

Her iris flashed. Anar blinked, and when he opened his eyes, there was no sianae in front of him. He shook his head, trying to drive away, to dispel the visions that flooded his mind, but to no avail.