Elian Arka only realized how silent a city could be when he set foot in a foreign country for the first time at twenty-seven years old. Not silent because the streets were empty or the buildings vacant, but silent born from faces that deliberately avoided each other's gaze. People hurried past with their heads bowed to tiny screens in their hands, occasionally glancing suspiciously when someone passed too close, as if every step were a potential threat that needed to be guarded against. That experience lasted only three days before he returned to his homeland, yet three days were enough to make him understand that safety, it seemed, was not something all nations possessed.

As the airplane pierced through clouds and descended toward the land below, Aisenodni began to appear beyond the window, his chest filled with a feeling he had always struggled to explain. The cities below stood arranged like neat rows of sentences written by the hand of a poet who had never known a typo. Streets cut through settlements with an orderliness that was almost impossible to find anywhere else. Expanses of trees grew alongside towering glass buildings without either devouring the sky. Rivers flowed clear among city parks, while magnetic trains glided silently above elevated tracks that reflected the afternoon sunlight like threads of silver.

"Finally home."

The words slipped from Elian's lips almost without thinking, more like a whisper to himself than something meant for anyone else. An elderly woman sitting beside him heard it and smiled warmly.

"There's no place more peaceful than home, is there?"

Elian nodded slowly. "No, you're right."

The plane landed gently. No applause from the passengers, unlike the custom in some of the countries he had visited. Everyone disembarked in orderly fashion, making way for one another without being asked. A small child who had accidentally dropped his cloth doll hadn't even realized his loss when a man in a suit had picked it up, crouched down, and handed it back with such a genuine smile that the child rewarded him with a brief hug around his leg. The mother thanked him repeatedly, while the man simply shook his head, as if such small kindness didn't deserve any recognition at all. Such scenes were entirely ordinary for Aisenodni's citizens. Yet every time Elian returned from abroad, he always saw it as if witnessing the world for the first time.

Aisenodni International Airport was not filled with armed officers. Standing at various points were only service staff in light gray uniforms and badges bearing an image of an oak tree growing from a circle. They more often pointed tourists in the right direction than inspected luggage. Security checks still existed, of course, but they proceeded quickly, almost without tension. No tense faces fearful of being thought suspicious. No shouting. No loud voices commanding people to move faster.

Elian once asked a colleague from abroad why every security check in their country felt like entering a war zone. His colleague only laughed bitterly.

"Because we never really know who might stab us in the back."

Elian still remembered that sentence, but he had never truly understood its meaning. To him, the world certainly had its dark side. He read about it all in history books of other nations. Murder, theft, civil war, acts of terror, human trafficking. All of it real. All of it had happened. Yet it all seemed so distant. As distant as tales of dragons or kingdoms that had sunk centuries ago.

Upon leaving the airport, the aroma of earth freshly washed by rain greeted him along with the soft breeze of the spring season. Trees along the main boulevard swayed gently, shedding a few leaves onto sidewalks that hadn't even had time to look dirty as several cleaning robots moved calmly, sweeping every corner of the street. Not hurried, not slow either, as if they understood that cleanliness was not a task to be rushed but a habit to be maintained.

Elian chose to return home by city tram rather than by private vehicle. He had always enjoyed that journey. Beyond the glass window, Aisenodni's life flowed without needing to be displayed. A young man helped a blind man cross the street, then ran to catch the next tram without showing the slightest annoyance at missing one. Two women who had just finished exercising stopped to pick up a small piece of litter blown by the wind, then resumed chatting and laughing. A delivery person left several packages in front of houses without needing to ask for signatures or confirm anyone was home. No one took them, for no one wanted to take something that didn't belong to them.

Elian smiled faintly. He had lost count of how many times he'd heard foreign tourists call all of this impossible. They always assumed Aisenodni's citizens behaved well because of overly advanced surveillance technology. But for Elian, kindness had never been born from fear. It was born from the belief that other people were fellow human beings just as worthy as oneself.

The tram glided through the city center with an almost poetic silence. Its magnetic rails made no creaking sound like the old trains Elian had seen in other countries. All that could be heard was the whisper of wind as the tram body passed through tree-lined corridors, then soft announcements that sounded more like someone reciting poetry than announcing the next stop. Inside the cabin, people sat beside one another without barriers of anxiety. A man in a suit lent his phone charger to a student he'd never met. In another corner, a toddler laughed merrily making shadow puppets on the window, while the woman sitting across made bird shapes with her fingers. No one felt disturbed by that small happiness.

For a moment, Elian recalled a conversation with a sociology professor from abroad several months ago.

"What is your nation's secret?" the man had asked after an international seminar ended.

"Secret?"

"Yes. No country is truly free from conflict. There's always some group that feels oppressed, always someone who hates the government, always a gap between rich and poor. But every report about Aisenodni says the same thing. As if your nation exists outside the laws of nature."

Elian had only laughed softly then.

"Perhaps because we're taught to be good human beings from childhood."

The man smiled too, but his smile carried lingering doubt.

"If it were that simple, the world would have been peaceful long ago."

The conversation ended without an answer. Even to this day, Elian never felt the need to find one.

The tram stopped at Arven Station. As the doors opened, passengers disembarked one after another without jostling. A young woman in a hurry actually stepped aside to let an elderly person exit first. The elder bowed slightly in thanks, then walked slowly with a wooden cane that seemed to serve more as a walking companion than a support. No one complained about waiting a few seconds longer. For Aisenodni's people, time was not something worth arguing over.

Outside the station, the sun began to lean toward the west. Its golden light reflected off the glass walls of government buildings, making the entire administrative district appear draped in a thin layer of honey. Children filled the city park with laughter calling back and forth. Some flew kites, others chased soap bubbles blown by an elderly white-haired man. No high fences separated the park from the main road. No signs with excessive prohibitions. Only open space trusted to be cared for by those who used it. Trust—perhaps that was the true foundation supporting this nation.

Elian walked leisurely toward his apartment, just a few blocks away. Along the way, he passed rows of shops with doors still wide open even though some shopkeepers seemed to be chatting at a coffee shop across the street. No iron bars. No layered locks. Glass display cases showed various high-value items without a trace of worry.

At an intersection, an eight-year-old boy stopped suddenly. A small wallet fell from his jacket pocket. The boy had no idea until a woman on a bicycle called out to him from behind.

"Hey, you dropped this."

The boy turned, took his wallet, then bowed repeatedly with his face red from embarrassment.

"Thank you, Miss."

The woman waved her hand while laughing softly, then pedaled her bicycle away. That simple. No suspicion that she might run off with the wallet. No fear from her either when calling out to a stranger's child in the street. Everything flowed like water that had found its path long ago. Sometimes Elian wondered in his heart whether humans were fundamentally good and the world made them change, or whether the world was harsh from the start and Aisenodni had simply found a way to soften it. He had never found a satisfying answer. Yet whenever that question arose, the city always answered it the same way. Through the genuine smiles of its people. Through streets not filled with fear. Through children playing until dusk without the shadow of anxiety. Through elderly people walking alone without fear of becoming crime victims. Through houses with open windows, as if the entire nation had agreed that mutual trust was far more solid than any wall could ever be.

Arriving at his apartment, Elian stopped for a moment on the twelfth-floor balcony. From there, almost the entire face of the city could be seen in one sweep of the eye. Lights began to glow gradually as the sun dimmed, welcoming the night with the same gentleness that morning welcomes light.

In the distance stood the dome of parliament building beside a public park that was never empty. Government ministry buildings were not surrounded by high fences or tactical vehicles. People still walked past them with children, walking their pets, or simply sitting to enjoy the evening air.

Elian took a long breath. Sometimes he felt guilty whenever he heard news of countries still caught up in wars, power struggles, or inherited hatred passed down through generations. Because he was born in a place that had never even given him the chance to understand the kind of fear they spoke about. Perhaps that was the greatest blessing a person could have. Not wealth, not position, not even a long life. But the chance to live without having to fear tomorrow.

Elian smiled slightly before closing the balcony door. Night was falling, and like every night before, he knew that tomorrow morning the city would wake again with the same face: calm, orderly, and peaceful, as if the world were indeed always created this way. And this was precisely how Aisenodni was known throughout the world. In Aisenodni, there was no one who had reason to hate their nation.

-II-