Abelin and Jazarin began their work in earnest the next day. Abelin set about teaching Jazarin every bit of wisdom he had managed to amass in his long life, and Jazarin absorbed it like a sponge. They were inseparable, Abelin the father Jazarin never had.
The fruits of their labor were gradual at first. A new type of plow that cut planting time in half. A specialized loom for weaving cloth. A machine for mathematical sums. Slowly but surely, their inventions began to gather traction in the city that had been the same for too long.
I smiled as I saw the cogs of a long-dead machine begin to turn once more. They groaned and cried but turned all the same.
Five years passed, and the city was born anew. Production had soared with the inventions of Jazarin and Abelin, and prices had reached an all-time low. The nobles began to take note as decreased prices and better-quality armaments began to aid in the war effort.
Eventually, the king traced the root of these changes and invited Jazarin and Abelin to an audience.
They stood in front of the vast doors shielding the throne room.
“Ready old man?” Jazarin questioned,
“More ready than you,” Abelin chuckled.
They stood in silence for a time, decked head to toe in the finest silks and jewelry.
“Is this it?” Jazarin asked, “The moment we’ve worked so hard for? Is this the moment that will define us?”
Abelin pondered that, then slowly responded,
“I would hesitate to define the lives of an infinitely complicated human by a single moment. We are defined by the sum of all our moments. But this is where that sum has led us. Stand tall boy. We enter with Hephas himself at our backs.”
The doors swung open and they entered a luxurious throne room. At the end of a long hall of delicate paintings and intricate tapestries sat the king on a throne of gold. He was middle-aged, with hints of gray in his dark hair and hints of fat on his lean body. Ever a warrior his eyes pierced them with the weight of authority. As they reached the foot of his throne he finally spoke,
“I have seen the inventions you have spread among the people. Why?”
A simple question, yet infused with the will of one who had seen beyond the veil of civilization. One who had seen in the wake of the reaper’s scythe.
I watched nervously as a quiet battle for the fate of my creation took place.
Abelin defended,
“Milord, for too long has our society stagnated, slave to war. For centuries man has lived the same short, brutal life. We have seen a way to surpass that. To raise man above the clouds that have hovered overhead for so long. A way for man to seize his own destiny.”
Jazarin stepped forward,
“Our inventions have revolutionized the way people live. Crop yields have reached all-time highs, production has skyrocketed past previous limits, and quality of life has increased several fold.”
“Quality of life?” the king questioned.
“A measure of how well a man lives their life, Milord” Abelin replied.
Jazarin continued,
“And this is with the minimal funding we have. In fact, most of it came out of our own pockets. We would ask for more funding. If we could accomplish so much with the little we had, imagine what we could accomplish with more. We could shatter the chains that bind us. No longer will man be a slave to nature, we will rule it. No longer will man be a slave to fate, we will control it. You are the king, bestowed with the power to rule this kingdom, bestowed with the power to better it.”
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“So better it.” Abelin smoothly finished.
The king was teetering on the edge. He could sense the change this represented and he was unsure if he wanted to follow through. The measure of a man is not the easy decisions but the hard ones. The ones where his comforts are pitted against the great unknown. King Richard of Royals was a warrior, and where the battle was the hardest was where he proved himself.
“You shall have the funding. I look forward to what you can do with it.”
Jazarin and Abelin barely maintained their composure as they left the castle. They burst into wild cheers as soon as they got to their office.
I cheered with them
The following years were filled with excitement and expansion as discovery after discovery was made. The university expanded massively and accepted more and more pupils. Abelin and Jazarin acted as Chancellor and Vice-Chancellor respectively. I watched those golden years with fondness. Science after science was discovered and advanced as books and ideas from faraway nations and ancient times poured into the University. The desire for knowledge was infectious and it soon spread across the world, dimming the flames of war everywhere. A massive web of connected universities and individuals was created through messenger pigeons and other mediums of transportation. It was as if all of those centuries of stagnation had caught up at once.
I was happy. Finally, the cogs were turning, and Humanity was advancing once more, this time building up, instead of exploring around.
Twenty years passed in the blink of an eye and the world no longer looked the same. Oil lamps adorned every street and surpluses decorated every market. The universities shone the brightest of all, shining beacons of knowledge banishing the darkness of ignorance.
In the Great University of Jazarin, as it had come to be called, Jazarin sat at the bedside of a dying Abelin. Slow tears ran wound down his cheeks as Abelin forced his eyes open for the last time.
“It's alright boy. I lived for far longer than I should have. We did it. We changed the world.”
“But do you need to go?” Jazarin replied sadly.
“There comes a time in every man’s life when he must leave this world.” he locked eyes with Jazarin, “I will leave far better than most.”
“We will remember you…Old man”
They smiled at each other.
“Remember boy, the plans. If this works then the world will never be the same.”
“I know. I will finish them.”
“And Jazarin?”
“Yes, Abelin?”
“I love you, boy.”
Those were his last words.
I cried with Jazarin. Abelin had been a shining example of humanity. A man who had forged his own path through the world. And what a path it had been.
I pressed his path into the stars he had spent so long studying.
But I could tell something was missing.
His other half, who was currently obsessing over their last plans together.
Jazarin walked to a hidden workshop, smiling sadly at the fireworks bursting above his head. It was fitting for Abelin to be remembered in such a fashion. He had been brilliant, just like the fireworks he had created.
When he arrived, he laid the blueprints across the table.
It was time for him to work.
A month later, Jazarin stood before a panel of the most powerful monarchs in the world.
With a single sure tug, the cloth flew off the contraption behind him. He faced the monarchs proudly,
“I call it a steam engine, and it produces electricity.”
Queen Gloren of Frald stepped forward for a closer look,
“What is this…Electricity used for?”
The smile on Jazarin’s face grew wider,
“Everything.”
The world was never the same. Jazarin freely distributed all his knowledge and inventions and made sure others did the same. He was a shining example of a creator. A mind with no equal. In the short seventy years he lived, he heralded more progress than every other age combined. I had lost hope in humanity, but he rekindled it. Perhaps, if one such as him could be human then humanity was worth keeping. The cycle of violence was nigh unbreakable shielded by rage and vengeance yet he shattered it with his mind alone. He took the static machine of humanity and fixed it.
When he died the world seemed to weep. I remember his last words as clearly as if they were yesterday,
“Progress is our purpose. Progress far enough and even the firmament of heaven shall break before us. Never stop.”
I wept with the world. I would have welcomed him as a brother if only he could have taken that last step.
I pressed his path beside Abelin's, the two finally locking together in completion once more.
They were immortalized not merely in the books of man but also in the vault of heaven.
The light of their genius shining from both the memory of man and the light of the stars.
Forever spurring progress to its ultimate goal.
Infinity.