When Vandiyathevan opened his eyes once more, the sight that greeted him on all sides filled him with wonder. In the east, at the edge of the sky, the sun was rising. There, the sea shimmered like molten gold, dazzling and radiant. The maiden of the dawn was adorned in a golden silk garment and shone resplendently.

In the direction the boat was heading, directly before him, an emerald isle glimmered, draped in a robe of blue sea. To the right, another stretch of green land appeared, much the same in hue. It was not clear whether this was an island entirely surrounded by the sea, or a vast expanse of land stretching out into the distance. Looking further, between these two emerald realms, many more islands appeared in the distance, each displaying a different shade of green, as if to demonstrate the endless variety of that color.

From the boat, if one looked all around, the seven colors of the rainbow and their seven thousand subtle blends shone forth. Altogether, the scene before his eyes did not seem real. It was as if a master artist, skilled in the art of painting, had sworn an oath—“Here, let me show you what paradise looks like!”—and had created this wondrous vision in color.

As Vandiyathevan, entranced by this vision, lost himself in awe, words fell upon his ears, awakening him: “This is not paradise; this is Lanka!”

“Yes! I truly wondered if this was paradise,” replied Vandiyathevan.

“This is not the land of heaven; but it is a land like heaven. For a long time, men in the form of demons have been striving to turn this paradise into hell,” said Poonguzhali.

“Whom do you call demons?” he asked.

“Those whose profession is war, like you.”

“Even Ponniyin Selvan?”

“Why do you ask me about him?”

“You said you would inquire about the prince.”

“I said I would find out where he might be. I never said I would tell you whether he is a man, a demon, or a god, did I?” The boat was drawing near the islands. Instead of the deep, resonant hum that echoed in the middle of the sea, the sound of the waves now changed to the gentle, continuous murmur as they broke upon the shore.

“What do you say? You can see it ahead, can’t you? That is Boothaththivu, and to the right lies Nagaththivu. Where shall we go? Shall I take you to Nagaththivu and leave you there? Or will you decide after making some inquiries?”

“No; let us go to Boothaththivu. Even if it takes a little longer, it is better to find out where the prince is before proceeding.”

“If that is your wish, so be it. But remember the promise you made me!”

The boat came to a stop at the shore of the small island. Telling Vandiyathevan to look after the boat, Poonguzhali stepped onto the emerald isle and disappeared into its depths. Vandiyathevan watched the direction in which