The Survival of a Civilization. The Ring of Fire

By Liviu C Tudose

My dear warm-hearted reader,

Are you ready for the adventure of a lifetime!? All you need is a drop of courage, and the adrenaline will get you right in the middle of this adventure. In my story, no one feels SAFE, and life has a single purpose: SURVIVAL!

All you can see now is a cover captivating your eyes. Isn’t it wonderful? But when you hold the book in your hands, you will discover places and people who will leave their mark on your life. The beginning reveals a titanic fight between two kings of nature – the King of the Dry Land and the King of the Seas. One fights in order to cross the seas and augment his territories, the other one want his turbid waters to invade the land. And because they are equally powerful, the line of war is almost always at the shore. A balance that prevents their advancement on the enemy territory.
Until one day when the “Legend of the Four Sons” disrupts this balance, and the Kingdom of the Seas invades mercilessly the Kingdom of the Dry Land, breaking it into a number of islands; over time, only four pieces of land are left amidst the seas; on them – four port-towns: Isbynorr, Narzomand, Salgornu, and Zendovir. On the other hand, the Kingdom of the Dry Land sends its explorers to cross the endless seas in search of other territories. Even so, nature seems to be unfair; it has some gifts for some and almost nothing for others...

This is the setting; now for the actors. We have the four governors of districts, Stephen, Olympia, Theodore, and Elena, then skilled captains who cross the infinite seas, aboard all sorts of ships; there is also a king who lives his old age under the dark star of a somber destiny, his life called into question. There is the fascinating love story of Amelia and Tudor, and we also have the bright wanderers Tiťi and Bum, an orphan boy and his pet, who put smiles on the face of a world put to hard tests. There are various dishes that tempt any respectable gourmand, carefully prepared by innkeeper Francis and his loving wife, Natalia. There are old sages and young apprentices who imprint on the story a touch of knowledge you won’t see everywhere. There are many others who appear just enough to please you and to share their deep experiences.

But since the submerging of the land under the waters is not enough for survival, the landscape is also populated by power-blinded people, such as the Badrokels, who have a single purpose – the royal throne. The events unfold quickly, and people are slow to understand that their lands are swallowed by the waters and that they have no escape, because, in the distance, everything is hindered by an immense wall of active volcanoes imprisoning them seemingly forever. They now believe their end is near and that may tomorrow will never come for them. Before they die, they try to SURVIVE against the unleashed nature and against their dangerous foes.

Everything is an adventure, and each event, each character will enchant your eyes. They hope to survive! Do you have any HOPE for something GREAT? Do you feel SAFE? You can answer these questions on your own! QUENCH your curiosity RIGHT NOW! Arrrrrrrgh!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Liviu C Tudose
• Release date: Jan 4, 2021
• ISBN: 9789730334418

Liviu C Tudose

HEY, HEY, HEEEEEY!I notice that I made you somehow curious if you're here in a hurry on this page to find out a few words about me. A good thing, because I also want to give you a few words about my existence.THEN...In other words, my first impact with this civilization was... haha hahaha... at a time when the famous Sun was smiling and enjoying the simplicity of select gossip with the mysterious Moon. Yeah, at that time they seemed more "close". ?So, I saw the light of day in the early '80s in the wonderful and the multicultural Lugoj, the one located on the sides of the Timiș - river that enriched my soul with longing for the magical liquid of life - water. He was also the "muse" of my bachelor's thesis, through which I enthusiastically graduated from the Faculty of Geography at the West University of Timișoara.If in the first part of my life I floated in the wind without any precise direction, like a ship without sails and anchor that chaotically crosses the infinite seas, later in adolescence, I followed the same "safe" path experiencing some "short" jobs that they somehow facilitated my existence but did not offer the freedom so dear to my soul...DO YOU WANT MORE?Then visit my „About” official page. Enjoy!https://liviutudose.ro/en/about/

Book preview

Love comes from within! And you have already taken the first step!

You’ve opened the book…

Liviu C. Tudose

To my beautiful family, who helped me

discover the truepleasure of my soul, the writing.

They were often my source of inspiration, without them knowing it,

and thanks to them, here lies before yourlordships, this book.

To my loving wife, Alina, and my wonderful children:

my daughter, Sofia, and my son, Victor.

D:\1. My first book Supraviețuirea unei civilizații - Cercul de Foc de Liviu C Tudose - 100 la 100 Final 24.12.2020\EN\Capitole EN\Acknowledgements.jpg

For me, the very writing of my first book was a real adventure, an adventure accompanying the one so lovingly described herein. Since the very first words I wrote on a winter day, on eight February two thousand eighteen, to its closing, in the spring of two thousand twenty, as the fourth of March ended, meaning more than two years, my wife Alina, my daughter Sofia and my son Victor have been by my side, always encouraging me. Thank you with all my heart that you let me follow my dream, to see it become reality owing also to your help.

I want to thank my parents, Domnica and Nistor, who, maybe without knowing it, gave young Liviu the most beautiful present on a Christmas morning (yes, Santa), when, in our Christmas tree, on a snowy little branch, I found a lovely cherry-red pen… the greatest happiness of my childhood… Thank you for your love and unconditional support.

My appreciation also goes to the CREATOR publishing house that paved my way to success with help from its editors, manager Iuliana Răducan and literary reader Elena Dițu. I want to thank Elena for her guidance and unwavering patience shown to an enthusiastic beginner who was always ready to ask dozens of confounding questions. My most heartfelt thanks, Elena! Thank you all that you lent a hand for the happiness of at least one man – the author of this book; and thank you again for allowing a dream to become reality…

You live and you learn, and mistakes get you closer to your own goal. My kind regards to Lucia Popovici who had to polish the raw material delivered by a dreamer. I value the recommendations offered by a professional who has set her stamp on this cherished writing of mine. Thank you very much, Lucia!

Nowadays, if you don’t know a gifted graphic designer, you are lost! But I was lucky, because Ramona Marinescu readied her patience and listened to me carefully, and then deciphered the hieroglyphics of my basic sketches, just like an inquisitive Egyptologist. My fertile imagination teamed not only with Ramona’s experience, but also with her creativity, and the outcome is FANTASTIC! A rich, elegant cover that will captivate many innocent looks! Ramona, thank you a thousand times!

I want to thank the team of INKARNATE for their platform, which allowed me to create a part of my cover and several maps in the book. Yes, they did assist my thoughts and helped me put on paper exactly what I felt and dreamt. I am grateful for the help you give creators in the transfer of their inspirational ideas into the real world. You are the best! Thank you!

Finally, I want to thank the printing employees who have helped preserve my infinite thoughts on the paper of the universe and let heavy, but very satisfying work actually see the light. My gratitude to those who printed, cut and pasted hundreds, thousands, millions of copies of this wonderful book!

I am grateful to all of you! From the tiniest to the greatest help you offered knowingly or unknowingly. Yes, my reader, I am grateful that you are ready to share my story with your family, friends and colleagues and, especially, with those enduring dreamers who are the booklovers! Thank you with all my heart for these wonderful moments in my life! I bow before you respectfully!

Lastly, I want to thank Liviu who has obstinate faith in his dream. He lived it day after day and night after night, even if it was not yet real. I am grateful for his existence! To me, he is the GENIUS who brings joy to the hearts of his fellowmen…

11 November 2020,

Liviu C. Tudose

D:\1. My first book Supraviețuirea unei civilizații - Cercul de Foc de Liviu C Tudose - 100 la 100 Final 24.12.2020\EN\Capitole EN\My preface.jpg

Hey, you! Yes, you! Whether you are a boy or a girl (your age does not matter), you will always be young, and I hope you heart is full of endless smiles! Today or… anyway, on the day when you buy this book, at a considerable cost or maybe for a bargain price, did you stop to think what you hoped it would give you? I ask you kindly to read it to the end and you may find, boldly, that your heart warms up. There’s warmth from the fire of fear, flames in the heart, sweet friendships that will not be extinguished. And your gentle eyes will stir my dear emotions; then, when your look becomes misty, you will understand it all…

Melancholy and sentimentalism aside – for a brief while, of course -, I want to tell you that the place where you live – the Earth – has been and will always be a place called home by the human civilization. This home, however, felt the need for a complete regeneration; it needed to burn down to the ground and then rise from its own ashes, like the Phoenix bird of the ancient mythology. Whether we agree or not, the Earth has had its share of civilizations much more thriving than those we all know; in the meantime, they have been left without this home, melted in the depths of earth, or they have barely survived, if we take the most optimistic scenario.

My story can be interesting, when you look at it in terms of the intense activity of our planet; our planet is able to shrink its dry lands and give birth to new ones; all these things happen with precise or approximate periodicity. The unmistakable certainty is that this happens even now, while your eyes follow my thoughts.

Thus, the tense of this book is contemporary with all the times – past, present or future – and it emphasizes the people’s feelings, their knack for survival in extreme situations that threaten the entire human civilization.

No matter the relationship between time and plot, one thing is certain: humankind has to fight incessantly for survival, while also dealing with petty schemes (well, we are human, and this means that personal interest will always be at stake) that most of the times complicate our whole existence; this is described in the following pages. And let’s not forget about love; without it, our life would float palpably, changing, against the heavenly wind…

I put here words I picked from the bottom of my heart, but not before I had them go through the fine sieve of my thoughts, sincerely hoping that you, too, will accept them.

Very kind regards,

Liviu C. Tudose

P.S.: When you bought this book, you didn’t even realize that, with it, you took a piece of my heart; for this I will be grateful to you for the rest of my life…

… There were stories told to children before bedtime, in warm summer nights or by the stove, while winter would lovingly knit overflowing snowflakes into a delicate attire that would cover the whole land, moving the genuine hearts with the painting of a dreamy landscape.

And there were also sound ears that listened carefully and voices that passed on, generation after generation, the predecessors’ stories, until they reached those who would give real and authentic meaning to them, matching the thoughts and feelings they would have at that time.

And, oh, there was… a time when leaves alone would travel freely in the wind, from one district to the next one, to finally rest on the rich land; the intersecting roads would come and go into nearly all directions, connecting most of the settlements, known and unknown places separated by borders that would divide the lands among four great peoples and kingdoms, from the south to the north and from the east to the west.

These peoples appeared in times out of memory; we don’t know from where they came, but in the apparent beginnings of history, everything would come down do a single map that described a large continent

surrounded by the waters of the endless seas.

On the continent, the kingdoms were separated by the courses of the four rivers freely springing from the Central Mountains – seated in the highest area of the continent, right at the heart of it – and flowing slowly through deep valleys, getting lost in the swirling waters of the seas surrounding the vast piece of land. And these rivers marked the boundaries of the kingdoms, dividing the land into equal territories: to the north, Isbynorr, the eternally frozen and snowy realm, to the east, Narzomand, with the most fruitful fields, to the south, Salgornu, wide deserts under a burning sun, and to the west, Zendovir, colorful gardens, balm for the soul. The same-name towns could be found in the areas at the highest altitude; they all spoke the same language but had different traditions.

Even though history stubbornly left no information about the beginnings of these places, a story passed down by word of mouth from generation to generation would continue to circulate and be often in high demand in the crowded inns.

This is the Legend of the Four Sons and it tells us very clearly, for each of us to understand what each of us hears, that, once upon a time, two powerful kings waged a magnificent war against each other. A very different war, a war that did not require weapons and did not mean the loss of human lives, a war of attrition between the Kingdom of the Dry Land and the Kingdom of the Seas, two immense expanses that would clash frequently and would prevent each other’s evolution. The King of the Dry Land wanted to conquer new territories and expand his kingdom, while the Lord of the Seas wanted to flood the enemy land, at all costs. None had access to the other’s territory.

The stories of that age also say that women in the kingdom of the Dry Land were not allowed to cry, lest they summon the forces of the Seas; on the other side, no ship that was built and launched would float, because it would be sunk immediately by the whirling waters.

Weary of the same unending failures, the king of the Dry Land gathered his four sons and forced them to leave their parents’ house in the Central Mountains and become messengers of peace to the kingdom of the Seas. Before they left, he swore to them that, if they managed to bring peace between the kingdoms, he would allow them to rule over the whole kingdom, in turn, four years each, from the eldest to the youngest. The decision to banish the young men was made, and this would change for good the future of those places…

Burdened by sadness, each of the four men left alone, taking different roads, leaving behind a grief-stricken mother who knew she would lose for life those souls she held so dear. The suffering caused her to shed bitter tears, which gave rise to four warm springs that followed the footsteps of her sons, and when they caught up with them they turned them into deep rivers lost quickly and forever in the sea.

With the curse broken by the mother’s tears, the four boys established a bridge between the two kingdoms, between dry land and sea, and their names were also the names of the rivers flowing from one cardinal point to another. They then became borders, forming four new kingdoms: River Nor’r separated Zendovir from Isbynorr, Zom’a had Isbynorr on one bank and Narzomand on the other, Gor’n had Narzomand to the left and Salgornu to the right; the last river, Dov’i, separated Salgornu from Zendovir.

The legend doesn’t mention whether peace was established between the kingdom of the Dry Land and the kingdom of the Seas, but one thing is certain: the pain of the four sons banished from home led to the appearance of these four new kingdoms and, every four years, they seemed to want to return home… to the plateau of the Central Mountains, as promised by their own father, for each to rule in turn over the whole kingdom.

Whether true or not, The Legend of the Four Sons is now a mere illusion of times gone by, every so often recollected by the elderly or whenever a contemporary event matches flawlessly the magical story.

A time when alliances would be made and broken, during peace or war, they would prosper and fall, would covet or flatter; the friend you had today would become you foe tomorrow. This is the earliest description of a long-gone world, painted in the tones of each civilization, but forgotten over the years in the mists of time, just like a good wine, which, once brought to light, heats up and delights the senses of those who taste it.

Ehhhh, such troubled times! Nature alone would continue to tend to its affairs, helplessly and bitterly watching the slaughter brought about by the battles of conquest, which sullied its neat garments; it hoped, however, that the time would come when it would rule to its liking, seeking its justice.

But, until then, the fights for supremacy would be a normal thing, as it had been for ages... Hunter and game, sage and savage, rich and poor, these were and would continue to be the constants.

Each of the four kingdoms had something that made it weak in front of the enemy; it always seemed to have two enemies and an ally, but they were never the same. And this whole madness could not go on forever.

The main target was Isbynorr, the eternally snowy kingdom in the north, which, unwillingly, had the iron deposits so laboriously extracted from the Iron Glacier Mountain, in the north of the kingdom, thus ensuring the raw material for the forging of weapons: winding swords, sharp spears and quick-tempered arrows. It was disturbingly ironic that such a white, cold and quiet land could give birth to a spring of warm red blood that would fill even the most peaceful settlements across the land.

Crowned and noble heads everywhere would also purchase from here their wild animal furs for their exclusive garments. The regular soul could not afford to wear immaculate white clothes, skillfully tailored by the seamsters of that time.

Narzomand, too, had something coveted by the others: the most fertile land in the world; here, they grew the finest grain, carefully cared for by hardworking farmers, known as true saviors of the land from under the waters, by using sturdy levees that protected safely the latest agricultural lands. Animal farming was also quite developed, all of which gave the whole kingdom a gastronomic reputation that was hard to match.

It’s just that this wasn’t necessarily a good thing for its people, especially in times of war, when entire armies need to be fed. And from here to turning Narzomand into a main target only one more step was required. Thus, and they were aware of this, whether it was war or peace, they offered supplies to all the four kingdoms, and had a saying: On an empty stomach you can neither fight, nor fall in love.

The Western Kingdom identified with its main settlement, Zendovir, a town that drew the elite, the intellectuals, the better sort, who were set in their own select ways, who indulged in what

they had known to build: green, grandiose gardens, with terraces on which many colorful flowers would rest in the sunlight, allowing sweet rose, lavender and jasmine fragrances to be carried by the wind; others had cooling fountains, to the everlasting joy of the travelers. This was a bohemian kingdom where the artists of the time would find easily their lost inspiration, abandoning themselves to the fragrance of the blossoms in the lemon and orange trees spreading across the vast citrus groves.

Zendovirians were thirsty for knowledge and, in order to have constant contact with new things, they had developed advanced navigational techniques, and their ships would cross the seas, mapping each piece of dry land which would then be exploited down to the tiniest speck of dust.

In the Southern Kingdom, the aspect of the land was something that no other kingdom would want; the soil was barren, vast sand expanses were covering the whole territory, in the form of larger or smaller wastelands. Here and there you could find oases filled with bright blue waters surrounded by high palm trees guarding puny shades, which would offer a place for rest and chill to thirsty travelers; however, they were not the things that made the kingdom vulnerable in front of the enemies…

At its southern end there were old and dusty mountains worn by winds and by time, rich in gemstones that would shine bright in the eyes of every dreamer; around the world, they were known as the Salgornu stones that captivated not only the eyes, but also the souls of the weaker ones.

The habit of wearing these stones had also been adopted by the royal courts where they were in high demand for the adornments worn by the kings and queens, but, most importantly, they had become the equivalent of supreme power and those who had many of them could easily influence and change the rules and laws at their own whim.

What’s mine is not yours! What’s yours does not belong to any of us and the mere idea of a one of a kind item that you did not own would make you take all the measures to strengthen your supremacy, a lurid game with an uncertain ending.

The battles were for the long term and, before they reached the target-territory, the attackers had to take an extremely important exam: the conquest of the Central Mountains, a collection of compact cliffs ending in a high plateau, barely accessible because of the steep terrain, surrounded by towering peaks that seemed to create a natural defense fortress.

The plateau was the continent’s watch tower and it had immense strategic significance, being coveted by each of the peoples and by any self-respecting army. Numerous battles began and ended at the foot of this plateau, but most often the odds of success were almost null, which is why the lucky ones managed to take it over for four full years. And I don’t know how, but no matter how much they fought against it or how much they tried, every four years, the Central Mountains plateau would have another master, in turn… from the eldest to the youngest. After they conquered it, they would build quietly fortresses supplied with food and weapons, offered as permanent duty to a precise number of some of the most experienced soldiers.