The Fool found a lone soldier at the top of a bluff looking across a vast river. On the river’s opposite shore was a forest of banyan trees and a large army. Its elephants wore armor and they each carried four men on top who hoisted bows and arrows. Men of horses paced back and forth on the shore. Countless infantrymen holding spears waited in the shadows of the banyan trees.
I want to go there, the soldier said to the Fool, but my army said it is asking too much.
The Fool recognized the man then: he was no soldier, he was a great king. They had either met before or were about to meet then, the Fool couldn’t remember; the world was weird with linear time.
I don’t like knowing that there is more to the Earth that I don’t know, the king said. It is always one more river, one more mountain, one more sea.
My army is tired, he went on. They are thousands of miles away from their family. They all favor what they know over seeing the unknown. Maybe this is all I will ever know.
Butterflies began swarming up the bluff and flying around the conquering king. They were exotic, with colorful wings patterned in mad designs. The king seemed baffled by the small flying insects.
The Fool saw the waning crescent moon in the blue sky. It looked bigger or it looked closer. He could see the details of the craters. The sun was behind him, scorching the back of his neck. It was hot and sticky here. Thousands of insects swarmed the surface of the river below them. He was drenched in sweat.
This world is so alien, the king said. This is why I want to be down there, to see everything new.
A group of birds flew up from the forest canopy across the river and headed east, away from them and into the horizon of trees. Heatwaves rose from the tops of the trees. The humidity was heavy and soupy. The Fool felt a headache from the sweltering heat.
Let’s go, the king said, turning away and walking down the hill. I know that we have to turn back.
They followed a small animal trail down the hill. The Fool thought he could see a smile on the moon’s face, but when he looked again it was just a normal moon. The king’s cape fluttered behind him as he walked at a brisk pace towards his army’s camp in a small valley. Another river flowed west, and giant, pointed, snow-capped mountains rose to the north.
The king made a signal to the army, and soldiers began tearing down the camps. Their process was fast and efficient. The tents came down and were stowed away, the fires were doused, the horses were gathered. Already, a column of soldiers was heading west out of the valley.
The king approached a small army that camped nearby. They were allies, and the Fool watched the king talk for a minute to the king of that other army. The allied king seemed disappointed, but shook his head in agreement that this was the right thing to do.
Never listen to a soldier that complains, the king said as he came back. Listen to the silent soldier.
The sun sat low in the sky as the last of the camp was broken down and the soldiers went marching out. They looked like they were marching right into the sun, silhouetted as they were by the giant ball of gas with their plumes coming out of their helmets and their spears sticking high into the air.
All the while, the butterflies followed the king wherever he walked. They were like a reminder of where the king had stood a moment before. The trail of butterflies went as far back as the top of the hill where the Fool had first come across the king. The kaleidoscope of butterflies was thicker right behind the king, and thinned out as it got further back.
If I had known that land beyond the river, the king said, I would have gone. We would have taken it, and then we would have found ourselves at another boundary that needed crossing. Instead I will go home knowing that the outcome was unknown, and therefore not regrettable.
The Fool watched the king follow his army west with his cape billowing in the wind. The swarm of butterflies followed him as well. The Fool stayed in the evening heat, dripping sweat and trying to breathe.