On the evening of a stormy day, when the waves were high and the fog thick, a ship suddenly appeared, struggling to stay afloat. It made its way to shore, where two figures disembarked, battling the strong winds as they trudged through the sand. After hours of walking, they finally reached a large city. They covered their faces with cloth and moved through the deserted streets, the sounds of the rain filling the silence. They arrived at a farm, where they approached a house surrounded by small apple trees. One of them knocked on the door, and when it opened, they entered.
Inside, Naaman stood frozen, as if seeing a ghost. It was Abu Bakr, the man who had supposedly perished when their ships sank. His presence was so shocking that Naaman almost couldn't believe his eyes. He wondered if he had gone mad, his mind playing tricks on him. Just the day before, he had picked fruit from the trees, only to return in the evening and find them empty.
"The gray hairs have eaten the rest of your head, time is merciless," Abu Bakr said, his voice bringing a sudden jolt of recognition to Naaman's heart.
"How can this be? Didn't your ships sink?" Naaman asked, his voice shaking with disbelief.
"Who said our ships sank?" Abu Bakr replied, recalling how the sailors who had turned back had spread the rumor of their demise. They sat down, and Abu Bakr explained what had truly happened. One of the ships had returned after a stormy night, claiming that the sea currents had taken the other two. The sailors had assumed they were the only survivors, and the kingdom had held a funeral for them.
"Did any other ship return after that?" Abu Bakr asked, referring to the sailors who had returned when he set off toward the hermit.
"No, no ships came back," Naaman responded.
Abu Bakr's gaze shifted to the shipbuilder, and he realized something had happened to that ship on its return journey. They exchanged news and stories, and Abu Bakr learned that his sister Asmahan had passed away. The weight of this news filled him with sorrow. For a while, he stayed with Naaman, silently mourning, his mind returning again and again to Artemis, waiting for him at the temple. "Maybe it is time for me to return to her," he said to himself.
Months passed since his return, and one morning, Abu Bakr woke up with a sense of finality. He told the shipbuilder he had to leave.
"Where do you want to go again?" the shipbuilder asked, concern in his voice.
Abu Bakr's response was filled with a quiet resolve. "After your first step towards your goal, you will never be able to stop."
Before leaving, Abu Bakr turned to Naaman with a question that had been on his mind since his return. "Where is sivar?"