"How do you do, sir?"
Noman greeted the king, who was standing on the balcony. After giving him permission to enter, the king glanced at him briefly without much attention, as was his usual manner. The two remained in silence for a while, until Noman stepped closer to the king and faced the sea as well. Finally, he broke the silence, saying, "There's not much left to know. Abu Bakr doesn't have much time before he returns with good news."
"Don't you think we're a little late?" the king replied. "Whatever news he brings now, it won't forgive me for what I've done. I feel like my body can do nothing anymore. All I want is to wake up one morning with my mind intact. I want rest, and I think you do, too."
He paused for a moment before continuing, "We shouldn't have done all this without prior planning. We should have traveled ourselves and not sent someone in our place."
The king looked at Noman and responded, "Don't you think there's someone who can sail during that period and reach what we seek?"
"I had put all my trust in the sailors, believing they would reach our goal," said the king. "But here they are, leaving without returning, and now dreams show me every night how they died."
At that moment, the king realized that hope had left him, and he whispered, "They must have traveled for more than a month. When they decided to return, they ran out of food and water, and they died. The ships carrying their bodies must still be at sea. Maybe the first sailor was wrong, and the sailing period is much longer than he thought."
"What about Abu Bakr? He's reached his majority, he's studied all the sciences, and was trained in swordsmanship before penmanship. He can sail alone," Noman suggested.
The king sighed deeply, his voice heavy with all the sorrow he felt. "I will leave the choice to him. I can't send another person to die, Noman. I stood in the way of his departure last time because I wasn't sure the sailors would even reach that land." He paused, then continued, "I know you will judge me. How can I send sailors into the unknown and send my own son to Egypt? You have every right to judge me. I was afraid they wouldn't return, that they'd be taken by the waves—and my fears came true."
Abu Bakr had always wanted to sail himself. He would count the days as the ships were built and often went down to the shore to inspect them. Many times, he helped the builders hammer nails and cut wood. He told the king many times that reaching that land was his dream, a dream he would work hard to fulfill no matter the cost.
"The guilt gnaws at my heart, and I cannot send anyone else to that land, which we don't even know exists," the king said.
"It does exist, sir. All the manuscripts tell us so. The first sailor's letter, the drawings from the book, they all lead us to that land. Don't lose your hope so quickly," Noman urged.
"The manuscripts led us to nothing. All they led us to was death," said the king with a terrible voice. It was the first time Noman had heard the king speak this way—he sounded like the King of Death. But the king didn't stop there. His voice softened. "I will no longer send anyone into the unknown. Let us forget the story of this land."
Noman felt a deep sense of disappointment, but he felt even more pity for the king—his old friend and brother. With that, Noman asked for permission to leave. A few minutes later, the king also left his room. As he passed the servants, they greeted him with pitying eyes, and he could sense their silent sympathy.
He walked toward a large door, behind which sounds and noises emerged, indicating the presence of many people. The king gathered his strength and opened the door himself. As he entered, everyone stood in silence. The only sound was his footsteps as he made his way to the center of the room, to a chair at the top of a group of twelve parents. The king sat down, breathing heavily as if drained, then signaled for everyone to take a seat.
The twelve parents sat on the left, and each king faced another chair where their children sat. The first king, a man known for his iron grip on the kingdom, had been raising the sons of governors in the palace to prepare them to rule as their fathers did. His goal was to keep them under his control, raising them as he wished.
"I've gathered you here today to tell you a story," the king began. His audience exchanged confused looks, some wondering if the king had lost his mind. But he continued, "Many years ago, there was a sailor, renowned for his greatness before his descent into madness. He and his crew fought alongside our kingdom, but then his ship was wrecked in the midst of war, and all the crew perished. The Lord spared his life, but the shock left him mad. He wandered the streets of the city and was found dead one morning. Beneath him was a fragile book, which he had used to keep warm during winter nights."
The king paused, letting his words sink in. "This book was a diary he wrote during his time at the helm of that ship. In it, he spoke of a great island he reached after two months of sailing against the sun. He described the land as new and unexplored, and they stayed there only a short while before returning. After the war intensified, they never sailed back, and the ship was wrecked, leaving him the sole survivor."
The king sighed deeply, and Noman felt a chill in the air. "I thought it was time to find that land, a new place where we could build a future. We could teach its people from our knowledge, spread our faith, and bring prosperity."
He stopped, his voice faltering. "But my guess was wrong. Every night, I hear their screams in my dreams. I have nightmares that prevent me from sleeping. The sunset terrifies me, and I wake with my heart racing. I'm old, and I cannot bear it any longer. I think it's time for me to seek mercy and leave the judgment to someone else."
Moses, the crown prince, glowed with the realization of his future responsibility. The faces of those present were filled with astonishment. The king paused again and surveyed their expressions before standing up and leaving the room.
Days passed, and the king remained locked in his chamber, until it was said that he had fallen seriously ill, awaiting death.