It was the warmest noon of March, there and a a wooden gate opened inwardly in the lanes of Sindler's Town. Bystanders gambling under the shade cast by the Adventurer's Inn were irritated by the sound of screaming wood. They chase the silhouette as the sun revolves around it.
They remained cheerful as a figure of a man and a horse neared the gate. The man was dressed in a dirty white robe, and his head was wrapped in a garment that covered his ears and face, leaving just his eyes visible. He mimicked his steps as he went beside his horse, whose bridle was loose. The horse's saddlebags were full of stuff, and the man appeared to be alone apart from maybe his loyal steed.
All eyes were fixed upon him, from the butcher who had just finished arranging his items, to the shoemaker who may have found the perfect spot beneath a tree, and even the bustling crowd participating in a public auction. They scrutinized him from head to the bottom of his sole.
As the gates loudly closed, the people returned to their own businesses.
Upon entering the place, he realized it was livelier than he had anticipated. A well-dressed man approached him and asked.
"Welcome mister.. eh uhmm!? Would you like a room for the night?"
He paused, along with his horse, but did not respond immediately. He took in the man's appearance, noting the fine robe and golden bangles that sparkled in the light. The man's golden tooth, a replacement for a lost one, was the final touch to his ostentatious display.
"I don't have any silver nor gold at the moment." he replied.
The well-dressed man looked around as if searching for someone and responded.
"At the moment?" He then suggested, "Well, we haven't had many lodgers lately. How about we take a look at your goods? Perhaps I'll find something of interest?" He extended his hand in agreement and introduced himself as Atonyo, the name by which the townspeople knew him, with a friendly smile directed towards the newcomer.
"Wouldn't it be nice to know how I'll address you, mister?" Atonyo kept his reach waiting for the man to shake it. But it did not.
"I go by many names, but most people know me as simply Lozrig," he replied.
Atonyo dropped his hand and looked above, he contemplated if he had heard the name the man go by.
"Few people know that name, the majority of them are also dead or gone; if I were you, I wouldn't extend any concern."
"Understandable, however you must not forget that you need me in this town. You lack of silver, remember?"
Lozrig did not answer but only fixated his eyes at Atonyo.
"Well, never mind that. Come, follow me. This way!" urged Atonyo as he led Lozrig onwards. "I've heard things about you, or rather the name you go by you know" he added. "You're the traveling merchant, aren't you?".
Although Lozrig nodded in response, Atonyo's curiosity remained piqued as he tried to imagine the man's face, which was hidden behind the cloth covering his head.
Atonyo led the way, going for the inn.
"Tie her to that tree, gentleman, and I'll meet you inside," he advised.
Lozrig attached the bridle to the tree that is kissing the wall beam of the inn. He placed his belongings from the saddlebags into a massive cloth sack, making certain that nothing was left behind.
---- Paulo Coelho style
On the scorching noon of March, in the winding alleys of Sindler's Town, a wooden gate creaked open, sending a jarring sound echoing through the streets. Gamblers lounging in the shade of the Adventurer's Inn looked up, moving with the shifting shadows as the sun continued its relentless ascent.
But their amusement did not falter as a lone figure emerged from the gate, riding atop a magnificent steed. Clad in a worn, whitish robe and a cloth wrapped tightly around his head, he kept his eyes fixed ahead as he and his horse strode forth. The bridle hung loosely at the horse's side, mirroring the easy, confident gait of its master.
For the bystanders, there was no indication of where the traveler was headed or what purpose he served. But one thing was certain: he carried with him a weighty load, concealed within the saddlebags that hung at the horse's sides. And as he disappeared into the maze of the town's streets, his presence lingered like a whisper, a fleeting hint of something profound just beyond their grasp.
