Ailar

"We have been observing you for some time."

Ailar lifted his head to look at Ptoleius. The elderly man sat in front of him with a serious expression on his face.

"You are not adhering to the school's plan for what philosophy students are supposed to learn. Instead, you are holding their hand one by one and discussing trivial matters. What do you have to say in your defense?"

"I'm simply trying to nurture their souls so they can take the next step on their journey. That doesn't always align with Plato's teachings about the world of ideas."

Ailar lowered his head again, feeling a sense of relief that this confrontation was happening now. He couldn't adhere to a rigid plan when the young men clearly needed something different.

"They need to be heard and seen."

The words slipped quietly from his lips.

"What did you say?"

He raised his head again.

"They need to be heard and seen as souls!"

Ailar's eyes deepened as he stated it again, loud and clear, ensuring there was no room for misunderstanding.

"That's what I thought you said. However, that is not your role as a teacher. Your duty is to provide them with what we instruct so they can learn to develop their deductive reasoning and think critically to reach new philosophical insights."

"But how can they arrive at new insights if they lack the inner strength to let thoughts emerge from a balanced mind? If they are fed only strict philosophical rules, there will be no foundation for deep insights to arise. That's what I aim to provide—the groundwork for their philosophical exploration."

"Nonsense. We all possess that foundation already."

The old teacher shook his head.

"I have no choice but to ask you to leave. It pains me, for you are one of my dearest pupils, but the college will not heed my arguments if you continue to plant such thoughts in the young men's minds. You have even allowed a woman to attend your classes. Leave in peace, Ailar."

Ailar walked away with heavy steps. What would he do now? He had lost his income. He thought of Ambar, hoping she would understand that he couldn't continue if they wouldn't let him support those who needed it. Fortunately, he had saved some money, so they would be okay for a while.

As he passed the Pantheon, he was drawn to the beautiful building, infused with power. His steps led him inside, stopping in the center of the floor, directly beneath the invisible beam. Yet he felt it. Light shone down on him, growing so bright that he had to close his eyes. When he opened them again, he looked at the people around him. Many who came to this temple each day were poor and sick. One man limped toward him.

"You shine so brightly. It is beautiful to see you standing here."

Ailar took the man's hands, feeling warmth flow between them. The old man's eyes lit up, and a toothless smile spread across his face.

"Thank you. This was exactly what I needed."

He released Ailar's hands, and Ailar thought, 'His smile is all I need'. He felt his heart swell with love.

"Look, Mum, there he is! His name is Ailar, and it means happy. Maybe he can bring us some happiness too?"

The little boy tugged at his mother's skirt, eager to pull her along with him.

"Wait. He's busy with someone else. Let's get closer when he's free."

They stood and observed the man, who welcomed everyone with open arms. He radiated warmth with his touch. The time for miracles was not over; this man was a gift to them all. He stood there every day from early morning until late at night, greeting everyone who found their way to the Pantheon. He held their hands and offered a few kind words—it was all that was needed. Ailar had found his place among humanity, and Rome had become a happier city.