He was sitting on a precious bed in the palace, thinking about the strange events of the day:

“What are these traditions? Why did everyone gather in front of the city gate? Why, as soon as they saw me, did they all rush toward me?

Why did they carry me on their shoulders and bring me to the palace, placing me on the throne?

Does this city not have a ruler or king?

…Perhaps they mistook me for someone else!”

Everything felt like a dream to him. When he entered the city for the first time that morning, he never imagined what would happen.

In the morning, he entered the city as a tired, solitary traveler, and within an hour… he became the king of the city!

Days passed, one after another.

He was always puzzled about what had happened to him that day.

How did he become a king so easily? Why was he chosen over others? Was there some trick involved?

Many questions kept swirling in his mind… The questions would begin in his mind with one interrogative word, but soon another would crowd it out, and then a third would replace the second…

…What? …Why? …How? …When? …Where? …Who? …What? …Why? …How? He couldn’t figure out how to prioritize the questions. Every question seemed important. He couldn’t organize his priorities.

Finally, he managed to push all the questions from the forefront of his mind and replace them with one question he felt was most crucial because it would unlock

the answers to the others. He decided that this question deserved his full attention It was a key question, or the royal question—if he knew the answer to it, all the

other questions would be easy to answer, or at

least possible.

The royal question was: To whom should I direct my questions?

Then the royal question expanded into others: How should I ask? …When should I ask? …Where should I ask?

Whenever he turned to someone to ask them, he would bow in reverence, then lift his head and address them:

“Your Majesty, my lord.”

He was at a loss as to how to ask!

Once, almost spontaneously, he nearly said:

“Tell me, why have I become Your Majesty?”

But he quickly realized it was impossible to get an answer. The royal question still puzzled him: Who should I ask about my situation?

Can a king ask his courtiers how he became… who should he ask…?

Who should I ask?

Finally, he decided to end this torment. He would ask anyone in the palace, whatever the consequences. He turned to the guard on his right and asked simply, without preface:

“Tell me: Why did they choose me to be king?” – “Your Majesty, my lord.” And he added nothing more, just this phrase, after bowing according to royal custom!

When he tried asking others in the palace, he received the same response, word- for-word, and with the same number of words:

“Your Majesty, my lord.”

He replaced the royal question “Who should I ask?” with another key question:

Where should I ask? because he found no answers in the palace. He would have to ask elsewhere.

One day, the king removed his royal attire and wore the clothes of an ordinary man from the city, and slipped out of the palace, heading toward the market, where he mingled with the people.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of the market, everyone was busy with their own affairs.

He looked around curiously, and suddenly he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. He

froze in place. He turned his head and saw an elderly, dignified man.

“Your Majesty! You should be in the palace right now. What are you doing in the market, dressed like this?!”

He was greatly disturbed. He didn’t know how to respond. The wise man had recognized him.

He said in a faltering voice:

“I… I wanted… you know that…” The old man smiled and said:

“From the very first day, it was clear you were a wise person. You must want to understand what is happening in the city and why the people behave so strangely. Am I right?”

“Ah… yes… maybe… I mean…”

“Listen to me carefully and I will explain:

The people of this city, according to an ancient tradition, gather at the city gate on a certain day every year. When the first person enters the city, they approach him, lift him on their shoulders, and make him their king. They obey him and follow his commands precisely for a whole year. The next year, they gather again at the city gate to choose a new king.”

“And what happens to the previous king?”

“They carry him on a ship and take him to an island and leave him there.” “Does the previous king know this? Does the new king know that his rule lasts only one year?”

“I’ve told the former kings about this, but they didn’t care about what I said.” “Do you know where this island is?”

“I can show you its location, if you wish…”

That night, the king spent hours walking back and forth in the palace, thinking: “I could live in this palace happily for a whole year and enjoy the power and rule. Everything in the city is under my control.

In fact, there is no reason to think about the future; I shouldn’t worry… But for only one year?! What happens after that? If I enjoy this year to the fullest, I will end up on that island, with no water, no food, no shelter. How will I survive?” It was a difficult choice: A year of comfort and eternal hardship? Or a year of struggle and everlasting peace?

Finally, just before dawn, he reached a final decision.

From the next day, along with his daily duties of ruling and his sincere efforts to solve the people’s problems, he managed—with the help of the wise man—to find a number of loyal friends whom he entrusted with his plan.

He began giving them the gifts the people offered him, so they could use the money to buy building materials, seedlings, and livestock.

He kept nothing of his wealth in the palace.

From that time on, he secretly sent a ship from the city’s coast to the island, bringing with it the materials for construction, the seedlings, and livestock. He also sent workers and farmers from the palace to that island…

Things went according to his plan until… one night:

He awoke in the middle of the night, unable to move his arms. When he opened his eyes, he saw an unbelievable sight. The palace guards had come, swiftly and decisively, binding his hands and feet to take him away.

“Sorry, Your Majesty! Your rule ends tonight, and you must come with us now.”

“Give me a chance to rest.” “Unfortunately, that is not possible.” “At least allow me to take my personal belongings…”

“We are very sorry! That is not allowed. Your reign has ended, and we must take you in the state you are in.”

When they carried him outside the palace, amidst the crowds of people waiting to bid farewell to their king for the last time, his eyes fell on the wise man, who was looking at him with a satisfied expression.

When the ship reached the promised island, the sailors disembarked, leaving the king on the shore and returning.

They didn’t know that many people on the island had been waiting for their beloved friend. They had prepared a beautiful and spacious palace for the new king to live in.

As for the wise man, he continued his usual task, roaming the markets, alleys, and public gatherings, repeating to everyone he met: “The world is but a passage, and the afterlife is the place of rest. Take from your journey what will lead you to your final abode.”

Author: Anonymous