The Fool's Gold

The Hermit And The Fool

Sultan felt confused at that moment. He didn't understand why the general had called him a fool. 

He opened his mouth to speak, desperate to clear up any misunderstanding. “Please, sir, you have to listen to me. I am not a fool. If you'd just give me a chance to explain…” His voice trailed off as the general held up a hand to silence him.

Resilient, Sultan opened his mouth to continue speaking, but the general cut him off. “Don't move. Don't speak. Just freeze!” he said sternly. 

The tone of the general's voice made it clear that he was not to be disobeyed. Despite his fear, however, Sultan wanted or better still, felt like he needed to explain what was happening from his own perspective.

"Look, I am not from this world, okay? I just, I just… "Sultan tried to explain himself, but the words caught in his throat. 'I... I...' he stammered, trying to get his thoughts in order. But before he could finish his sentence, the general and everything around him disappeared. 

Like a mirage, everything had vanished. The military-like place where he'd been standing was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he was standing in a vast, dry desert. It was evening, and yet there was no sign of the sun, only an inky black sky. 

Sultan looked left and right, confirming he was alone. He couldn't understand what had happened. He felt like he was losing his mind. 

He mumbled to himself, “What the... What the heck is going on? What's happening to me?” He held his head in his hands, feeling dizzy and confused.

But, as he looked up, he saw someone approaching from the distance. The figure was dressed in a long, hooded robe, carrying a staff and a book. He looked like a wizard from a fairy tale. 

The man's face was hidden by the hood, and Sultan couldn't tell who he was. He stood rooted to the spot, watching the figure come closer and closer.

Also, Sultan couldn't tell if the man was human or not, but there was something about his hands, holding the staff and the book, that made him think that he was at least part human.

Sultan kept staring at the hooded figure as he approached. The winds around him started to whip up, growing stronger and stronger. He felt as if a storm was about to break. Sands and dust swirled around him.

No just him, Sultan could see the dust and sand swirling around the man, but there was no tornado. It was as if the wind was gathering in front of him. He couldn't understand what was happening. 

The man kept walking closer, his robes blowing in the wind, and then suddenly he was almost close to standing directly in front of Sultan.

Sultan raised his hand to shield his eyes from the flying sand and dust, but he couldn't look away from the mysterious man. 

The wind whipped around them, growing ever stronger, until Sultan could hardly breathe. He could barely see the man through the dust cloud that surrounded him even if the man was now in front of him.

The man then lowered his hood, Sultan saw that his hair was as white as snow, and it flowed down to his neck like a waterfall. Each strand of hair was perfectly smooth and silky. The man's face was like that of a human.

“Oh, My Days!” Sultan was so taken aback by the man's appearance that he couldn't help but exclaim in wonder. 

But the man's expression remained impassive. He looked ancient, as if he had been alive for centuries. His face was lined with age, yet he still looked strong and dignified.

The man raised his staff and pointed it toward the ground. At once, the sand and dust stopped swirling and fell back down. It was as if there had never been a whirlwind in the first place. The air was still and quiet again.

 Sultan couldn't contain his amazement, but he was beginning to grow frustrated with this strange game. “Please,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “I just want to go home. I have things to do. I don't have time for this. I have no money. I'm poor. Please. Please just help me.”

He pleaded with the man, who just looked at him and finally said with a vibrant authority, “Silence!”

Just like the wind and sand obeyed the man's commands, Sultan also obeyed, unable to speak another word. The mysterious man's eyes seemed to pierce through him, and he was frozen in place.

The man spoke again, his voice deep and strong. “You want to leave? Who brought you here? Did you come of your own volition?” 

Sultan shook his head vigorously, too frightened to speak. His gestures said it all: ‘he had not brought himself here. This was not his doing.’

The man dropped the topic of leaving and seemed to change the subject. “I heard there was a fool here,” he said, and then quickly corrected himself. “No, Rather. I meant to say there is The Fool here.”

Sultan then spoke up and defended himself immediately. He said, "Sir, sir, you know, you're the age of my grandpa. It's not that my grandpa is dead. So I'll just call you grandpa." 

Then Sultan continued, moving from left to right, gesturing and demonstrating everything as he spoke. "I was there and the general and everything. And there was a stone here." 

Again, before Sultan could continue, the old man interrupted him, saying, "Indeed, you are the one. You are The Fool.”

But then, Sultan stopped speaking and pondered upon what the man said. ‘It's harder than I thought. Why isn't anyone listening to me in this world? It's like I keep talking and they don't have ears.’ But he didn't speak aloud.

"Sir, you're getting me wrong, okay? I'm just going to start from the beginning again." However, the old man once more cut him off. “There's no need,” he said. “You're the one who brought yourself here. If you want to leave, that's up to you. It's in your power.”

Sultan's jaw dropped. He had no idea what the man was talking about. How could he possibly have brought himself here and still not be aware of that?

The old man turned away from Sultan and started to walk off, but Sultan reached out to grab his sleeve. “Please, wait!” he begged. “Look, you need to get me out of this place, okay? I am no fool, okay? I know I have been dating a girl who has been playing me, although I have been a fool. Yes, I spent my money on her. But look, I have realized my mistakes. I am now wiser.”

The old man turned back around to face him, his expression unreadable. “What do you mean?” he asked. “I just told you something but it seems like you haven't been following so far.”

Sultan began to pace back and forth as he spoke, his heart racing. “That’s the thing. What do I need to do?”

“If you be still and quiet your mind, you will know the answers to your questions. You will understand how you arrived here and how you can leave. Try it, and you will see.” The man said, his voice gentle and soothing.

Sultan then stood still, feeling the tension in the air. It was as if the man's words had created a sort of vacuum, a space of silence. All at once, Sultan felt something brush against his pocket. 

He reached inside and pulled out the card, the one that had taunted him earlier. As he held it in his hand, he could feel the rough texture of the card's edges.

Sultan looked up at the old man, still not sure what to make of him. Despite the strange and frustrating circumstances, the man's expression was calm and placid. 

Sultan thought back to the moment when he had tossed the card aside in a fit of frustration, only for it to circle him like a whirlpool. And then, just like that, he had found himself here, wherever here was.

With a sense of urgency, he moved away from the old man and held up the card, which still bore the mocking label "The Fool." 

As he watched, the card began to spiral once more, drawing him into its center. Without hesitation, Sultan allowed himself to be pulled in, feeling as if he were being sucked through a vortex.

Sultan blinked and found himself instead in his bedroom. The strange world he had been in vanished in an instant, and he was sitting on his bed.

The card fell to the floor, its corners

scuffed and worn. For a moment, Sultan just sat there, trying to understand what had happened.