“Do you mean the song ‘Imagine’?” I guessed.

“Yes, that’s the song I mean. And it’s such a pity that half of the people who have listened to this song don’t understand its true meaning. Perhaps, it’s not in their languages or because people feel indifferent. Around 30 percent of the people understand the song, but they don’t understand the true meaning of the lyrics; they don’t even attempt to think deeply about what it really means. Another 15 percent at least try to interpret it, but due to their limited vision, they only see it in the context of their own world, so they believe that it’s only an imagination or a vision that can never come true. Four percent are interpreters who can influence how people think, but then their interpretation isn’t correct either. Those who really understand the true meaning and source of this intended communication account for less than one percent,” explained Kyran.

“Apart from that song, we have transmitted millions of compositions of words and music. They exist in every nation and in every language to tell everyone that we’re waiting for them to return and be reunited with us, and to become one with the creator of our soul, the Almighty Soul.”

“The composer of the song which described this parallel world so well, died shortly after he had had completed his mission of creating the song and making it known worldwide, and his soul became one with us again,” added Kyran.

“Wasn’t the singer assassinated by a fan who was crazy about him?” I asked.

“Yes, that’s correct,” Kyran confirmed.

“Why did someone with that much influence on the world had his life taken away so early?” I asked.

“Because he chose to, and he had nothing left to do. His mission was completed but he had the choice to stay or to leave, and he chose to leave. He was re-born on Tuengra, and today he’s living his new life while waiting to be reunited with the other souls from his past relationships.”

“Really? So, I have the chance to meet him,” I asked.

“Perhaps, but he lives in a distant part of this planet. But you can meet him, if you like. Actually, we have quite a few people in this city who were famous in your world, including the owner of this house,” he continued to explain.

“So was Vince a celebrity before as well?” I asked.

“Yes, he was the artist who painted a woman named Madame Lisa, do you know him?” Kyran replied.

“Who is Madame Lisa? I can’t figure it out,” I replied.

“Ah! I forgot. ‘Mona’ means ‘my’ in Italian, so that’s why the painting is called Mona Lisa,” he replied.

“What!? He painted the Mona Lisa!? Don’t tell me Vince is Leonardo da Vinci!?” I exclaimed in awe.

“That’s him, in flesh and blood,” said Kyran with a smile.

“Really!? So, are you really Leonardo da Vinci!?” I asked and took Vinci’s hand.

“You’re my favorite artist! When I was small, I used to copy your paintings to practise drawing. I’m so happy to meet you,” I said.

“Ha ha ha! Thank you, so am I. I feel even happier than you, and more than delighted to have met you,” replied Vince.

“Why is that?” I asked confused.

“You’ll understand it one day,” he replied.

“In this world, there seems to be something that surprises me every minute,” I replied.

“You’ll get used to it soon. There are many more things here that you still haven’t seen, so be prepared for the unexpected,” said Kyran.

That evening, Vince and I talked for several hours while I watched him work on a painting of Koharu, who was modelling for him. Vince really didn’t need a model as he could draw beautifully using his imagination, but Koharu offered her service nevertheless as she vainly tried to copy the poses and postures that she has seen in Vince’s sketches. The atmosphere was like in a Renaissance artist studio which I had seen in pictures, with a model posing under the lights. We went to bed very late that night, but Vince continued to work without any desire to rest.

The next morning, I was the first one up. When I walked out of the bedroom, the soft light of the sun, gradually rising above the horizon, together with the lamplight allowed me to see Vince’s studio more clearly than the night before. His drawing was already completed, and although he had used only watercolours, the atmosphere of heaven that he had created felt so real that I didn’t have to use my imagination. The vivid colours captured the clean and fresh air; the beautiful and natural trees and flowers; and the realistic expressions on the faces and in the eyes of each person in the drawing. I stood in awe admiring his creation and in wonder at his artistic and passionate ability to see things around him with a new and unique perspective. It seemed that he could completely convey feelings and evoke emotions from his artwork every time.

“How do you like it?” asked Vince while I was closely studying the painting.

“It’s fantastic!” was my feedback.

“Thank you,” he said, visibly pleased.

“Why did you get up so early? Didn’t you manage to get some sleep?” I guessed he had been working almost all night.

“To be honest, I didn’t sleep at all. I have just finished painting shortly before you got up, so I went out for a walk and to stretch my body,” Vince replied.

He was holding a kettle with a handle made of copper but in the shape of a jug. Vince then walked over to his desk.

“Let’s have tea together,” he said, taking two terracotta cups.

“Try this,” he added, pouring the beverage into the cups.

“Thank you.” I reached out and took the cup carefully as it was still hot.

“Where did you buy … I mean, where did you get it from?” I asked.

“From a house located four blocks away from here. Everyone in this city knows the owner; he makes excellent tea,” Vince replied.

I began to drink it slowly. The first sip tasted like milk tea with a scent of butter but what made it special was the intense aroma of flowers.

“This tea tastes so good!” I remarked.

“It’s a special tea,” he explained.

“What makes it so special?”

“It’s special because the fragrance always remains the same, even when you add milk and butter to it,” he replied.

“Oh! I thought I tasted a kind of flower in it.”

“Not at all, it’s only the fragrance of the tea,” he answered.

“And it emits this intense fragrance since the tree it came from is very old. From my estimation, it must be around 60,000 years old.”

“A tree as old as 60,000 years!?” I exclaimed with amazement.

“Sure, and it’s the only one in the whole city.”

“Oh wow! How big is it?”

“It’s enormous, as wide as the length of four people’s arms wrapped around it, and as high as a three-story building,” he described.

“Why don’t they reproduce it and grow it in other places as well?”

“Some people have tried to do that, but it turned out that it can only grow on this very spot. The tea has such a mild aroma, not very different from a common tea, and when you brew it, you shouldn’t add any other ingredients, otherwise the aroma would disappear.”

“If the tree is that high, how do they harvest the tea leaves?” I wondered.

“That’s not a problem, the farmers built a huge wooden structure around the tree that reaches to the top, and then laid wooden bridges to reach different areas of the tree. When you climb up, it doesn’t feel like climbing a tree, it’s more like walking in an elevated garden because there are paths that connect the different areas. The leaves grow through the paths and they look like small bushes, and they are trimmed daily. Actually, people come to harvest the tea leaves every day.”

“This tea is the local specialty of this city, and everyone who comes here has to try it,” Vince explained.

“Wow, it’s really delicious, very aromatic and intense.”

“Try these sweets too, they go well together.” He stood up and got a box of sweets from a shelf.

When he opened the box, I noticed that the sweets looked more like cookies. After taking a bite, I found the taste to be very different to common cookies due to their softness that made the texture fluffy. The pastry was filled with many kinds of grains that had been finely crushed, until it became a flat dough. They were so soft that I almost didn’t need to chew them.

“Mmm … these taste so good together. These sweets, when taken together with the tea, become so soft that they feel like they have been blended into the tea,” I complimented.

“Right, whenever I have a cup of tea, I have to have it together with these sweets,” Vince said.

“Don’t you want to take a rest, Vince? You must be awfully tired, because you haven’t slept all night,” I said.

“Don’t worry, sometimes I don’t sleep for several days and I’m still OK.”

“Isn’t that quite unhealthy?”

“I’m not sure. I only know that what I’m doing is meaningful to others, and I’m proud to have created something significant with my own hands for others, so whenever I’m inspired, I believe I shouldn’t waste even a minute,” said Vince.