The man wearing the black dress looked at the moon with his back to Lakmeer. Lakmeer was confused as to who it was and why had he come to the village. All the people in the village could be heard but he could see no one standing on the path which entered the village. The path was connected to the long snake road that stretched through the country to the capital. It was the longest road in the world and had nothing like it. The road started out of the country and far in the lands where the copper skinned people lived with their longswords and tall strong warhorses.
The road would then go on to another country which was a neighbor to Lakmeer's country and go on to enter Lakmeer's own country. It was a long winding road that had no end. Someone could walk along the road and his whole life would end but the road would see no end. The legends say that the road was created by a long-gone king who had buried a slave after each meter to make the road stronger. Lakmeer did not understand how dead slaves could make a road stronger but he knew that it was a fact that the road was at least a thousand years old and was still not broken on any part of the world.
He would love to go on a journey on that road someday. Go to the starting point of the road far in the east and ride along the twisting and turning road with his favorite horse and favorite people. He knew that it was just a legend that the road had no end. Everything had an end, there just were no people who were intent enough to find the end of the road. Or more like the start of the road, as the road started in his country's port city.
Every year people from all over the world who lived close to the road would come to his village to later go towards Gordor. The people would gather and sell their goods in Gordor, where they are loaded onto large ships and carried off to cities and countries beyond the oceans. Lakmeer had another wish and that was to go on a voyage and go beyond the oceans to travel the cities and countries beyond.
He looked at the man adorned in complete black and called at him, "Hello there." he called. The man did not turn to look at him, "Welcome to my village, sir." Lakmeer said pleasantly. But the man seemed to be an extremely rude person and did not give any reply to his greetings. Lakmeer looked around to see if he had any companions, maybe the man was deaf or a mute, or maybe both. He had been taught better than to laugh at such people. But there was no one around that he could see. He then looked ahead of him along the road, maybe he had come faster than his companions.
"I have no companions, Lakmeer." The man said in a deep strong voice, "I have come alone." He added. The man's reply shook Lakmeer. Did this man by any chance have eyes in the back of his head? Even if that was true, he was wearing a turban on his head. He certainly could not see through his turban. Even if he had eyes in the back of his head and could see through his turban, how in the deserts name did he know who I was. No one in his village had eyes in the back of his head and nobody out of his village knew him.
Whoever he was, he did not say anything again but just stood with his eyes fixed on the moon, "I have always found it odd for the moon to appear in the day." The man said, this sentence from the man froze Lakmeer at his place. He was more shocked than the fact that someone had eyes in the back of his head and those eyes could see through clothing and could tell his name even if they were meeting him for the first time. He had heard that sentence before, and he knew from whom he had heard that sentence.
His father used to say that a lot. He was always interested to know why he could see the moon during the day. He was always interested about it during the night. But he was more curious about seeing it in the day. He had never found the answer to that from his traveler friends though. He almost always got answers from his traveler friends. They were mostly learned men many of whom even wrote books. The man turned and Lakmeer opened his eyes. He sat up on his bed and looked around. It was a dream. It was full moon. He lay back on his bed and went back to sleep.
Lakmeer sat on the high mountain of a sand dune looking at the far stretching road in front of him. He had been sitting there most of the days since his father had left. He was a fine young man going to turn five and ten after three to four moons, he had fine long hair, silkier than any he had ever seen even his father said so. This was both his and his father's favorite spot. Usually he would sit there with his father and would listen to him speak about his travels. His father had met many different types of people through his travels. All sorts of learners and warriors and he had talked to them about their life and his own life. The learners would teach him of the secrets of the world, about how Earthquakes are caused and what the Earth really is and all sorts of things. While the warriors would proudly show him their scars and tell their story, Lakmeer wanted to be a warrior and fight for the right cause the whole his life and travel around the world to liberate the enslaved and the prosecuted.
His father would talk about all of them like once he met this young man, who told his father that the sky was a shield from the basilisk that resides in the sky and that if the sky weren't there so this giant basilisk would have come and devour the whole of humanity. His father knew many things and had many interesting stories about his travels but he wasn't there now, how he wished that his father had been there telling him about his travels.
His father had left with a new caravan, that consisted of people from different parts of the world. There were people who would tower over the tallest person Lakmeer had ever seen, people with copper skin and almond shaped eyes who were from the far southern deserts. And others that were as short as his younger brother with eyes that seemed totally shut, people from the Eastern grasslands. But the ones that scared him were the people from the dark lands, with skin as black as charcoal and bushy hair, people said that they killed and ate their weak children and the ones who got injured and couldn't walk or didn't have a hand or any disability. Any weakness meant being killed and eaten by the ones who ate dinner with you. His father had told him about each of these people, their origin, and where they were going and what they were like, "The copper-skinned are famous warriors." he had said.
Lakmeer remembered all of it like it had been yesterday but in reality, all of that had been long ago, everyone said it had been two moons ago but when Lakmeer really thought of it, it seemed years had passed. Every day he would sit there in the hope that he would be the first to see his father's party return but all in vain. Now it all seemed stupidity.
One day he had seen a caravan coming towards the village, he had happily run towards it thinking it was his father's but when he had reached it, all he had seen were fat merchants riding in front of their merchandise's carts and riders with their long swords, some had it in the scabbards on their backs and some had it on their hips and singers with their strings one of the singers had been singing a travel song at the top of his voice and playing the strings, the others had just been enjoying the sweetness of the song. In the past, this would have made him happy to see new faces and meet new people and listen to folktales and folk music of different people from different parts of the world, but now all it did was disappoint him.
When his father's return had been due but he had not, his uncle had gone to the nearest city to get some information. He had been told that the caravan had stayed the night under the city walls but had left at first light. Uncle believed that something bad must have happened. Due to the war going on around the capital, where his father had gone, the peace of the whole country did not exist like it had once been present.
He did not understand why would anyone want hurt his father. He was a good man and had never hurt anyone. All he did was sell his stuff in the capital. He had hurt some soldiers in the great war. But that had been years ago when the greatest countries of the world had been at war with one another. Lakmeer had not even been born and now even he was a young man. Some things of this world were hard to understand.
He did not think that any human had any reason to hurt other human. That is why they were called humans, because they did not have any reason to hurt one another and could talk it out. But yet there were always people who were hurting others. People who were killing others and people who were going to war with one another. Why couldn't there be people just being friends and greeting each other happily and friendly.
He would always hear people say that he was a child and could not understand the ways of the world and people. But he was old enough to understand that fighting was not the solution to everything. There was always a way to avoid fighting but people were doing the exact opposite of it and were always finding ways to fight or to kill one another.
He was thinking about all of it that suddenly he heard the crunch of sand under someone's feet, he looked behind and saw that it was his uncle. His uncle stood there by him and said, "waiting for someone?" He wanted to say "My father, your younger brother upon whom you have given up." But he kept his silence, he knew that his Uncle loved and cared for his father but he was too old and tired for long travels and even if he wanted to go he could not, he had the duties of the whole village upon him and he was nothing if not dutiful. And he had already sent more than one person and all they had said had been, that the whole country was at war and soldiers and kings and commoners were all dying alike. They had news about the country but no news of his father, except one messenger had said that there could be news of him at the city of Gordor which was the capital and that's where his father had gone, but nobody could go there due to the war going on in the country. Sometimes he felt he should go but his uncle would never let him leave the village.
Looking at his uncle, Lakmeer didn't know what to feel about him whether to pity him or to get angry at him, but he soon got the answer when his uncle sighed and sat down like an old tired man. He kept staring at his uncle and his features while his uncle looked at the far stretching road, this old man who was his uncle about whom his father had talked with pride, the one who had fought wars and was made the chief of the village by a living chief and that was not something that normally happened, looked way older than he already was and even more tired.
He stood up and said, "Uncle, I didn't know you liked this place as well." His uncle looked at him and smiled," This place is charming yes, but I didn't come to see at the length of the road. I came to see you." He knew what his uncle was talking about but he didn't show it, "Me?" He smiled at his uncle but he felt the tears that were blurring his view. His uncle pretended he had not seen it, "Yes, you. your mother asked me to talk to you. You are always sitting here and looking at the road, what do you think that will give you. People die son…" This made him angry and he snapped at his uncle, "He is not dead." Now tears were rushing all over his face but he didn't care anymore and let it all go down. His uncle sighed, stood up and left without saying any other word, and Lakmeer looked at his uncle go, all that remained were his footsteps on the sand and the wind was clearing even that.