Tarik walked through the endless plain, where the dry air struck his face, and the ground beneath his feet felt like it was scorched, as if it were giving up all its hot secrets to the world. The wind rose from the mountains, scattering dust that filled the space around him, forcing him to constantly shield his face with the sleeve of his worn cloak. Yet, even that couldn’t protect him from the unrelenting heat and the quiet, merciless sorrow that had settled in his soul.
Tarik bore the unmistakable look of a wanderer: short hair, touched with gray, as if it were the result of countless battles that had filled his youth. Deep furrows marked his brow, signs of the intense thoughts that never ceased. His face bore the marks of many defeats and victories. From his military armor, only the charred remnants of fabric remained. Today, he was just a traveler, and his inner battle no longer raged between peace and war, but between the search for truth and endless doubt.
In the past, Tarik had been a warrior, known for his brave deeds and unyielding loyalty to his cause, but now that image had crumbled to dust, just like his relations with the people left behind. He could no longer bear their ceaseless wars, which brought no real meaning. Tarik longed for something different: an understanding of why eternity seemed so unreachable, why they—these worlds, these creations—felt like mere pawns on the chessboard of time.
The wind shifted, bringing the scent of water. It fell silent, and Tarik listened to the quiet. The further he went, the more he felt invisible, as if this emptiness around him had been created to reveal the path. But the path to what? Eternity? A revelation?
He stopped at the edge of a wide valley. The tall mountains loomed like sentinels, guarding this endless land that knew no boundaries. His muscles tensed as he heard a voice—at first faint, like the whisper of the wind, but then clearer.
“Are you following the call, or simply searching for a way?”
Tarik wasn’t surprised. He had long grown accustomed to this inner voice, which sometimes declared truths, but always in cryptic form. It was not the voice of the world, but of him—perhaps even the voice of something greater, waiting for him to make the right move.
He lowered his head, clenching his fists. His fiery nature could not leave these questions unanswered.
“I’m walking because I have no other choice,” he shouted, staring into the vastness of the valley, where horizons blended with the sky. “The answer won’t come until I find it myself!”
Tarik didn’t expect a response. He immersed himself in his thoughts when a figure appeared before him—not physical, but more like energy, shifting like mist with every movement. He raised his hand, and the figure didn’t disappear. For a moment, he felt his self-assurance crumble in the darkness around him.
“You cannot avoid this, Tarik. You walk through your fears because you want to find an answer that cannot be explained.”
Tarik stared into the darkness. His hands trembled with the power that suddenly enveloped him. He was ready for battle, ready for whatever it took to answer his question. But this time, he didn’t expect simple answers from the world. He wanted answers that would change everything he knew about life, time, and eternity.
“I will find you,” he whispered, moving deeper into the valley, where forces that no longer had a physical form awaited him.