Giafakro hurried and brought a piece of wood, then began digging in the sand at the center between the four stones. The sand was hot and rough, but his curiosity was stronger than his exhaustion. He kept digging for a long time until the wooden stick hit something hard.
He quickly pushed the sand aside, revealing a fifth stone buried in the ground.
It was different from the other stones. Its surface was covered with ancient carvings and strange symbols intertwined like a forgotten language. Giafakro ran his hand over the symbols, trying to understand them, but their meaning remained a mystery.
However, he was certain of one thing…
This stone was the source of the voices he had been hearing every night.
Giafakro spent several days trying to understand the symbols. He would sit in front of the stone for hours, staring at the carvings, drawing them in the sand, and trying to arrange them in his mind.
But it was useless.
One day, while the burning sun scorched the sand around him, he remembered the mirage that often appeared near this place.
He suddenly stood up and walked toward the four stones that surrounded the center like pillars. He began examining them carefully, touching their surfaces and searching between their cracks.
After a long time, he noticed something strange.
One of the pillars had a small stone piece that seemed loose. He slowly pulled it out and discovered that it carried a symbol identical to one of the symbols carved on the stone in the center.
His eyes widened in surprise.
He quickly inspected the other pillars, and after a long search he found a similar piece in each one. Now he held four stone pieces in his hands, each bearing a symbol matching the carvings on the central stone.
Giafakro returned to the stone in the center, his heart pounding.
He placed the first piece into its place…
Then the second…
Then the third…
And finally the fourth.
The moment the pieces settled into the symbols, everything suddenly changed.
The mirage began gathering around him, as if the air itself had turned into liquid. A transparent mist rose from the symbols, swirling around Giafakro in gentle spirals.
Then the ground shook.
Giafakro trembled in fear and tried to stand, but the earth moved violently beneath his feet. A powerful dizziness struck him, as if the entire world were spinning around him.
He whispered in a trembling voice,
"What… what is happening?!"
The mist thickened and blurred his vision. Nausea overwhelmed him and he collapsed onto the ground while the symbols glowed with a faint light.
Moments passed that felt like an eternity.
Then the mist slowly began to fade.
Giafakro opened his eyes.
What he saw made him freeze in place.
The desert was gone.
Instead of endless sand, there were dense green trees rising all around him, and the air was filled with the sounds of birds and insects.
He quickly looked down at the ground beneath his feet.
The same symbols were there.
He whispered in shock,
"Is… is this a dream?"
He slowly stood up and looked around, noticing that the same four stones were still nearby, as if they had come with him.
His confusion deepened.
He muttered quietly,
"Did I… travel to another world? Where am I?"
At that moment, he heard voices nearby.
They were the same strange sounds he had heard before… but now they were coming from just behind the bushes.
Giafakro approached carefully, his heart beating fast. He slowly pushed the leaves and branches aside and looked through them.
A small village appeared before him.
There were simple huts made of wood and clay. In the center of the village, a fire burned brightly while a group of dark-skinned people gathered around it. They were beating drums and dancing to a strange rhythmic movement.
Giafakro could not understand what he was seeing.
Suddenly, one of them noticed him.
Then everyone else did.
The dancing stopped, and all eyes turned toward him. They approached him cautiously, speaking in a language he could not understand.
Giafakro stayed among them for several days. They shared food with him and sat with him around the fire, but their language remained completely incomprehensible to him.
As time passed, a frightening thought began to grow in his mind…
Perhaps he had truly been transported to another world.
But one day, something unexpected happened.
A vehicle arrived at the village carrying several people. They looked completely different from the villagers. Some were blond, some had white skin, and others were dark-skinned.
They seemed like tourists.
Giafakro ran toward them quickly, his heart filled with hope.
He spoke to them in his language and asked where they came from, but they looked at him with clear confusion.
They did not understand a single word.
The hope faded from his eyes.
He had believed he might find someone who knew him… or at least someone from his village in the desert of Baghdad.
He slowly turned back, filled with disappointment.
Then suddenly…
He heard a voice behind him calling out.
"Wait!"
He turned around quickly and saw a man approaching him.
When the man spoke, Giafakro froze.
He was speaking the same language.
Giafakro rushed toward him and asked eagerly,
"Where are we? What is this place?!"
The man looked at him with surprise and replied,
"This is a village of an African tribe. Tourists come here from all over the world."
Giafakro's eyes widened in shock.
At that moment, he realized the truth.
He had not traveled to another world…
He had simply traveled within the same world.
From the desert of Baghdad…
To the dense forests of Africa, thousands of kilometers away.