from Raeli Oliems, The Two Prophets: Nicator Before the Empire

Nicator's return to Thera was little remarked. In the eight years since his sudden departure, he had changed greatly. Older, harder, stronger, yet in a way gentler, more mature, a changed man. His years as a metalworker, a woodcutter, a shepherd, and all his other odd jobs throughout his self-imposed exile, had toughened him. His years as a servant to nobility and his treasured six months as a covert student under Hypathia of Shallam had awakened him, as well, to a world that none of the Theran peasants were aware of, with injustice and justice higher than that of violence or fair pay. It is no wonder that he was not recognized, this hard-bitten wanderer with the deep eyes.

But then he spoke. It began as an idle conversation outside the general store, about the state of the war and the condition of the world. Nikolas' exact words have been lost to history, but it is evident that he spoke of the same things he spoke of all throughout his life: the possibility of peace, the possibility of universal human love, the contempt for war, the essential goodness of all mankind, the necessity of uncovering that goodness and living it. And what began as an idle conversation became a public address, as more and more people began to gather to listen to this unorthodox rant. Although crackpot prophets occasionally wandered through town, often still wearing the tar and feathers they'd picked up in Ashtan, those half-crazed men always spoke of punishment and the fear of the gods, of personal penance and the need for divine absolution. But Nikolas spoke differently: he spoke of the ability of men to save themselves and others. He never mentioned the gods at all.

And he was heard. By the time he was done, a full third of the town was gathered in front of the general store, and Nikolas stood on an apple barrel to be heard and seen. And he finished his speech with a calm assurance that there was hope for mankind... and instantly one solid powerful voice sailed over the crowd.

"That's all very well, but what can we DO?"

Nikolas, by all accounts, was momentarily baffled by this question. The person called, more quietly, "I'm sure we all want to live in peace and happiness, no Ashtan or Shallam turning our wheatfields into battlefields, no wondering if your kids will live to take over the farm, no praying that the next batch of soldiers won't just kill you and take everything... I don't know about you, but I also wish I could fly like a bird into the heavens and swig down a tall pint with Daedalus! And I say that's a lot more likely!"

The crowd began to mutter uncertainly, some trying to shush the naysayer, others admitting he was right. And Nikolas stood, silent, deep in thought, a confused look on his face.

The heckler, a burly fieldhand about Nikolas' age, was urged up to the fore by the rest of the crowd. Not afraid to debate publicly, he spoke to the assembled people, as even more townsfolk arrived to see what the commotion was. "Peace! I know about peace, neighbors! I know this man, he grew up around here! I used to beat him up and take his lunch. Go ahead, you think I'm proud of that? But I didn't know a better way, and I was hungry, I was always hungry. And that's why there is no perfect world of peace, nowhere! Because there's always someone who'll be hungry! You all know how it feels, don't you? When you're eating the last of your bread slowly because the soldiers or taxmen took the rest? Or when you're up nights dreaming about the girl your worst enemy's going to marry? All types of hunger, life is hunger and pain, and we'll fight and we'll kill in order to be full, and there's no place where that's not true!"

And the crowd was half angry at the doomsayer for shouting what they all wished they could disbelieve, and half angry at Nikolas for making them believe, even for a moment, in a vision so clearly impossible... and then Nikolas spoke.

"There... there is a place."

"Where?"

"I... don't know yet. I need to find it. Come on... let's find it!"

And just like that, Nikolas started to walk away, due south. And half the crowd paced him, asking "Where are you going?"

"To look for it. The place from my dream."

"What dream?"

"I can't tell you."

"What is this place like?"

"I don't know."

"How will you know when you get there?"

"I'll know."

"What is it called?"

"... Seleucar."

"You're crazy!"

"I hope not."

By the time Nikolas had left the town limits, the only person still following him was the brawny youth who had argued against him. "Hey... I'm Severian."

"I know. I remember."

"I... I'm sorry I took your food all those times."

"Forget it. I was never that hungry anyway."

"I mean, all the reasons I gave, I made them up just today. I never really thought about it."

"You don't have to be hungry, even if you're not full. I learned that. Forget it. You helped me."

"As you wish... I'm going to have a good laugh when you can't find this 'Seleucar'."

"I'll only quit when I die. Will you still be following me then?"

"I'm not following you now. We're just going the same way."

"Where are you going, then?"

"Wherever I go. They say it's very nice this time of year."

Nikolas laughed, and kept walking.