“Horuz? . . . You mean your name is Horuz?” Xevarh asked with a puzzled expression.
Horuz replied in a low, halting voice. “Yes . . . that’s . . . my name. It’s all I can remember.”
Xevarh sat beside Horuz and explained, “You know, kid, that name is quite unfamiliar in this region.”
“If you had a clan, you would inherit your clan’s name as your first name. For example, my name is Yan Xevarh. I have my family name, ‘Yan.’ Do you get it, kid?”
“Now, let me ask you another question. Where are you from, kid? You seem like you’re not from this region. Northern men have a very unique facial structure, with flatter cheekbones, and I can see it in your eyes that you’re not from around here.”
Horuz remained silent while Xevarh asked him question after question. His mind was elsewhere. He kept wondering why.
He couldn’t remember any of his memories. Only blurry fragments kept appearing inside his head. One of them was a voice calling him Horuz, but even the voice itself was unrecognizable.
After a while, Horuz snapped out of his deep thoughts. He realized Xevarh had been calling him.
“Hey, kid. Are you listening? You’ve been staring at the floor. Are you alright? Do you feel anything?”
Xevarh paused before continuing.
“I guess you need some rest. Come out if you’re hungry. The people are grilling meat outside.”
Xevarh left the tent, leaving Horuz alone.
The moment Xevarh left and the tent’s curtain closed behind him, Horuz heard the strange voice again.
It was calling him from inside his head.
Suddenly, Horuz collapsed from his seat.
As his body fell to the ground, he felt as though he had entered another world. It was like a dream.
In front of him was nothing but pure darkness.
Then, he saw a small, faint light.
It gradually grew larger and larger until it engulfed him completely.
Now, all he could see was a blinding light. He raised his hand to shield his eyes, but the sensation around him suddenly changed.
The cold became warm.
The warmth became heat.
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The heat intensified until it felt as though the entire world around him had become an inferno.
The environment continued changing, shifting between different temperatures and climates for what felt like an eternity.
Horuz was in agony.
An indescribable pain overwhelmed him, unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Yet, after what seemed like an endless amount of time, something inside him changed.
He stopped thinking about the pain.
He simply endured it.
Then he began walking.
Beneath his feet was a glass-like platform that appeared with every step he took.
He kept walking even though there was no visible destination.
He couldn’t see the end of the journey.
He grew tired, but he continued moving.
Something inside him was pulling him forward—something he couldn’t explain.
Then he muttered to himself,
“Now I understand why.”
As he continued forward, fragments of memories began floating around him.
They were like pieces of a broken mirror, each one reflecting a different moment from his life—from childhood to adulthood, from old age to death.
His past.
His future.
His present self.
He continued walking until every fragment of his memories disappeared.
He eventually arrived in another environment, though it looked almost identical to the one he had just left.
Fragments were scattered everywhere, floating through the void like broken pieces of glass or mirrors.
But these fragments were different.
They didn’t contain memories from his life.
They contained the memories of other people.
Every fragment had its own shape, size, and thickness. Each possessed a unique appearance and contained different stories and memories.
Horuz continued forward, steady and unbothered by everything happening around him.
Horuz kept a steady gaze, looking straight ahead.
He had traveled an incredible distance from his starting point.
Inside this strange void, his journey had already felt like a year of experience.
Yet something was still missing.
There was something he wanted.
Something unknown was calling him.
And somehow, that mysterious presence gave him the strength to keep moving.
For a moment, the voice became louder.
Horuz slightly changed direction and began moving again.
He was like a blind man chasing a dream, paying no attention to anything around him.
He passed countless fragments of memories and witnessed different kinds of stories, legends, sagas, and myths.
He walked past all of them as the voice continued growing louder and louder.
He kept moving forward.
Then he saw it.
A giant wall made of glass stood before him.
It was reflective, radiant, and enormous, completely blocking his path.
Horuz reached out his right hand and touched the wall.
For a split second, the wall shone with such intensity that Horuz instinctively closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, the wall had vanished along with the piercing light.
Something strange happened.
The voice became clearer.
It no longer sounded distant or distorted.
It sounded almost human.
Almost as though someone were speaking directly to him.
Horuz moved forward without stopping.
He felt as though he had finally found what he had been searching for.
. . . . .
The journey continued for what felt like an immeasurable amount of time.
Eventually, exhaustion overwhelmed him.
Then he saw something in the distance.
A dark-blue sphere.
It wasn’t far from where he stood.
The moment he saw it, he felt something deep inside him.
This is it.
This was what had been calling him.
Horuz moved forward slowly.
One step.
Then another.
Until eventually, his body could no longer move.
He collapsed onto the surface.
Still unwilling to give up, he began crawling forward with everything he had.
He was halfway there.
The mysterious sphere was close.
So close.
Yet his body refused to cooperate.
Horuz desperately tried to move forward, but he could no longer take another step.
The sphere was only a few steps away.
Yet it felt impossibly distant.
A feeling of rejection overwhelmed him.
As if his own body had rejected him.
As if even his own existence was refusing to obey his will.
He tried to move his hand.
Nothing.
He tried to stand.
Nothing.
His body was completely paralyzed.
. . . . . . .
Horuz blacked out.
When he opened his eyes, he was back inside the tent.
The same tent.
The same curtain.
The same place where Xevarh had left him only moments ago.
Horuz slowly looked around, confusion filling his eyes.
“Only a second has passed since I was out there.”
He lowered his gaze toward his hands.
“I experienced different events in life . . . years seemed to pass.”
He paused.
“Yet here in the real world . . . only a fragment of time has passed.”
Horuz slowly stood up.
He walked toward the entrance of the tent.
Outside, the voices of the caravan could already be heard.
Everything was normal.
As if nothing had happened.
But Horuz knew better.
Something had changed.
He just didn't know what.