the sun began its departure, as well. the boy watched it through its trajectory for some time, until it was hidden behind the white houses surrounding the plaza. he recalled that when the sun had risen that morning, he was on another continent, still a shepherd with sixty sheep, and looking forward to meeting with a girl. that morning he had known everything that was going to happen to him as he walked through the familiar fields. but now, as the sun began to set, he was in a different country, a stranger in a strange land, where he couldn't even speak the language. he was no longer a shepherd, and he had nothing, not even the money to return and start everything over.

all this happened between sunrise and sunset, the boy thought. he was feeling sorry for himself, and lamenting the fact that his life could have changed so suddenly and so drastically.

he was so ashamed that he wanted to cry. he had never even wept in front of his own sheep. but the marketplace was empty, and he was far from home, so he wept. he wept because god was unfair, and because this was the way god repaid those who believed in their dreams.

when i had my sheep, i was happy, and i made those around me happy. people saw me coming and welcomed me, he thought. but now i'm sad and alone. i'm going to become bitter and distrustful of people because one person betrayed me. i'm going to hate those who have found their treasure because i never found mine. and i'm going to hold on to what little i have, because i'm too insignificant to conquer the world.

he opened his pouch to see what was left of his possessions; maybe there was a bit left of the sandwich he had eaten on the ship. but all he found was the heavy book, his jacket, and the two stones the old man had given him.

as he looked at the stones, he felt relieved for some reason. he had exchanged six sheep for two precious stones that had been taken from a gold breastplate. he could sell the stones and buy a return ticket. but this time i'll be smarter, the boy thought, removing them from the pouch so he could put them in his pocket. this was a port town, and the only truthful thing his friend had told him was that port towns are full of thieves.

now he understood why the owner of the bar had been so upset: he was trying to tell him not to trust that man. "i'm like everyone else—i see the world in terms of what i would like to see happen, not what actually does."

he ran his fingers slowly over the stones, sensing their temperature and feeling their surfaces. they were his treasure. just handling them made him feel better. they reminded him of the old man.

"when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it," he had said.

the boy was trying to understand the truth of what the old man had said. there he was in the empty marketplace, without a cent to his name, and with not a sheep to guard through the night. but the stones were proof that he had met with a king—a king who knew of the boy's past.

"they're called urim and thummim, and they can help you to read the omens." the boy put the stones back in the pouch and decided to do an experiment. the old man had said to ask very clear questions, and to do that, the boy had to know what he wanted. so, he asked if the old man's blessing was still with him.