The night falls on one half of the earth, while the day falls on the other half equally. The light revives what the darkness has killed, and the darkness kills what was alive. Days passed since his departure, and at the dawn of one of them, the sun was still sending its first threads into the sky when the boy woke up. He sat in his place, watching as the sun ascended, announcing the beginning of a new day, which would remove the darkness that had fallen on the world. It crowded the night, sending the beasts of the jungle to their burrows, waiting for another night, and removing from us the thoughts we tried in vain to rid ourselves of—thoughts that consumed our souls.
He got up after the vision became clear, carried a small bottle of tar he had poured some of the previous night to protect him from the smell of snakes and scorpions that abounded near the sand, and put it in the bag he carried. He then sat at the trunk of a small desert tree, waiting for the caravan to start again. He had only two days left at most to finally reach his kingdom. In the days since his departure from the temple, his father's image had not left his memory. He saw him many times in his dreams since hearing that his father had retired to his bed, possibly for the last time. His heart felt split in half, realizing that the heart does not know how much it loves those close to it until the moment they part. In that moment, we wish that time would go back, allowing us to show affection and love, creating conversations that come from the soul before the tongue, not the dry exchanges we had with them. If we could do that, no one would be saddened by another's departure, for they would be sure they never withheld anything. Their conscience would not reproach them for those times when the deceased wanted to start a conversation but was prevented, those moments when their thoughts broke, those moments when dreams followed.
Some caravans passed, and on his journey, he sought news of his father. But all the caravans carried the same message: the king was sick, and his death could be imminent. Furthermore, the caravans brought other news—the ships that had left had not yet returned, and perhaps they never would.