To find is to seek without purpose.

The Essential Mái-Ruan Guidelines for Beyond Obvious Quests, Tome One, Ancient Wisdom, Subsection Three

"This way," she called them. "There's a stairway along the wall."

Mé started descending, deepening ever more into the crater, eyes ever upon the city of lights. The wall curved inwards, towards the centre of the pit and towards her destination. Hand running along the wall, she felt its asperities, and the wall curved and curved, ever downwards, inwards, deeper, in ways that she found logical, the stairway ever solid under her steps.

And that mild presence persisted around her as she approached the lights that seemed to extend towards her, reaching out, sending fascicles in myriad soft hues; a sense of home ensued. She remembered her planet Alteor, and vivid memories from her childhood dashed into the foreground of her awareness, filling her with a sense of ease and joy as she carried on along the carven steps.

Quick lights were forming a pathway-tunnel right under the steps, encapsulating her and drawing a clear trajectory towards the city.

She felt lighter, yet stable and aware, as she pursued the pathway-tunnel and reached the city gates. They were enormous rivers of materialized light that instead of opening, bent and arched into a luminous bridge, which was not static, as it carried her as much as she was herself advancing towards the city centre.

A garden had stemmed all around – and everything therein had shape and texture and was made of material, diaphanous light. A circular Welcome-way awaited at the far end of the bridge-gates, where nine city dwellers awaited her. They were lights themselves, clad in straight, heel-long garments of both taste and simplicity. Everything around her was less dense, less compact, and before she reached the Welcome-way, she had processed the data and reached the conclusion that she found herself a visiting guest in a superior dimension. The lights she had seen were not of the city, they were the city.

"Greetings," said one of the lights upon the Welcome-way – a male presence of gentle countenance and shoulder-long, brown hair; his eyes were clear and wise and brown as well.

She stepped onto the Welcome-way, and the bridge-gates rose fluidly and returned, ephemeral, but solid, at a distance behind her.

"This is the City of Depths Unseen. I am governor Mala, and this is the City Council of Light, the eldest of our people and servants of the Light. Welcome."

The Mái-Ruan bowed. What a great honour! "My name is Mé Khn of Planet Alteor, the Hexor Galaxy, here on Recognition Vessel Umbar of Star Bay 10-95. Our mission's purpose is to further our knowledge of the universe. We are friends of life."

The Council of Light Members smiled.

"A friend of life is a friend of ours," said governor Mala, extending his arm.

As she drew closer, his hand touched her shoulder. It felt light, but stable. Indeed, he was less compact than her and more luminous, but not holographic. Everything around her was on a higher frequency of physicality.

"You have guessed, of course," the governor continued, "that we are meeting halfway between dimensions, having lowered our frequency so to allow for this meeting."

"It is a remarkable honour," Mé said. "I am most obliged."

A mirthful, kind expression appeared on the governor's face. "Obliged to whom? What a peculiar expression! You mean to say you are happy to be here, I suppose."

"Yes, indeed."

"Why, say so!"

The Council of Light was extending her the courtesy of friendship. Mé bowed her head once more. "I am very happy to be here," she said, speaking genuinely, but unsure of protocol.

"Perhaps you would oblige me, then," said the governor in kind amusement, "and allow me to be your host today – if you wish to visit the city."

"I do, sir."

"Come along, then."

Inclining his head to the Council (Mé did the same), governor Mala led her along the winding alley.

"This is the Garden of Efaim," he explained, "the outermost of our leisure areas, the last of five ring-Gardens. Our city spreads concentrically around the palace at its core."

"You are a monarchy."

"King and Queen."

"What are their names?"

"Maru-na and Ka. Ka is our King."

"And is he King of the planet?"

"In a way."

They turned right around what looked like an apple tree in blossom.

"What do you mean?"

"What is a King, beloved Mé?"

"A monarch," she replied.

"That states the obvious," he consented, "but go within the question and you shall find your answer."

"A King is a ruler in service of his country, or in this case, his Planet," she tried.

In reply, he mused, "That makes us all Kings, for we each rule what is in our responsibility to do so, and we are all pledged to serve M'alala."

"What is M'alala?" she inquired.

He smiled. "What name have you given her?"

After considering the question for a moment, she asked, "The Planet?"

The governor assented silently.

"We've called... her Planet B-17."

"Peculiar." He was gazing ahead, pondering. "And is that the official name given to her and used in Star Bay 10-95?"

Mé confirmed. They walked in silence the next few steps.

"Well, I suppose it is a guess-name as good as any, but I prefer you use the term M'alala, for it has profound meaning; it's been so for eons, since time emerged and life then spurred and she arrived and has been, ever since, our home, our sacred M'alala."

"A Being."

The governor confirmed with another nod. "Wherein we abide." He looked at her. "And who has extended so to welcome you, dwellers of a galaxy millions of cubic parsecs far, here on a mission to uncover the secrets of life elsewhere in this universe."

The words were sinking in, while they were walking along luminous buildings and beings of light.

Placing his hand upon her upper back, governor Mala asked, "Now who could be the ruler of the allness wherein one dwells? A mere servant, who leads us all through our cycles of evolution, one we revere and most esteem. King Ka and Queen Maru-na have led us for thousands of years now."

"Thousands of years?"

Mé was processing as fast as she could, paying attention more to his words than to their surroundings.

"We are immortal."

It was a logical piece in the larger picture: an immortal people living on a higher octave, in service of all that was around. She needed to reflect on the effects of mortality on one's attitude in life. But now she turned to him, and asked, "Tell me about M'alala."

"M'alala," he began, "is both a state of being and a Presence. She is formed of all that is, visible or invisible to your eyes, manifestable as well as beyond the grasp of manifestation, a multi-dimensional Spiral of Being from the Oneness wherefrom all emerge. Imagine if an atom in your body were a house – a Kingdom, perhaps," – he gestured to the city around, – "wherein there is justice, and maintenance, and leadership, and so on, so that every infinitesimal fraction of said atom (with self-image, awareness of its existence as part of the atom) co-exists with all others and is dependant upon the well-being of the atom. That is us: each of us a fraction in the Atom of Being that is M'alala." He leaned towards her. "A name that bears deep meaning, as I've said, and that meaning is Tree that blossoms and is always in fruit."

Mé turned her head to face him. "The Tree of Life."

The governor smiled. "You are less of a stranger to our ways than you think."