The Fool's Gold

The Old Beggar

Sultan stared blankly at the card, trying to comprehend what had just happened. The purple ring he had been holding had somehow become a purple tarot card. But how was that possible? He couldn't wrap his head around it. 

He knelt there, frozen in place, for what felt like hours. Even the tears that had been welling up in his eyes dried up.

Sultan's mind flashed back to the day he'd bought the ring. It had been a usual, sunny day, and he'd been feeling hopeful and optimistic. 

He'd withdrawn his life savings from the bank, determined to buy a ring that would show Tiana how much he loved her.

As Sultan had been walking home from the bank, he'd passed by a jewelry store and decided to go in and as he approached the store, he noticed a beggar sitting outside. 

Sultan had bought a loaf of bread from a nearby bakery, and he decided to give it to the beggar.

As he approached the man, he noticed something strange. The beggar's eyes were filled with a strange, purple light, just like the tarot card Sultan now held in his hand. 

Despite the strange light in the beggar's eyes, Sultan pushed all weird thoughts aside. "Here you go, sir," he said, holding out the bread. "Enjoy." 

He smiled at the beggar, hoping to brighten his day. But the beggar just sat there, still staring at the bread. He didn't reach out to take it, and he didn't say a word.

Sultan's smile faded instantly. His good was seeming to be a bad thing. “Sigh!” He sighed, deciding to retract his hand but immediately, the beggar reached out and took the bread from his grasp. 

Sultan felt a chill run through him. He could hear his own heart pounding in his ears, and he could feel the sweat gathering on his brow. 

He took a step backward, trying to put some distance between himself and the beggar. But the beggar simply sat there, regarding Sultan with a strange, penetrating gaze. Afterwards, he took the bread to his mouth, taking a bite.

The beggar continued to stare at Sultan, as if he were studying him. And the whole time, he kept munching on the bread, chewing it like a wild animal. 

Sultan felt a rising sense of unease, and his skin was covered in goosebumps. 

Feeling overwhelmed by the beggar's intent gaze, Sultan decided to break the tension by excusing himself. "Have a nice day, sir," he said, hoping to sound polite. 

With that, he turned and started walking away, back toward the jewelry store. As he took his first step, the beggar spoke again.

"Stop!" he said, his voice sharp and commanding. 

Sultan froze, his heart in his throat. 

"You are not leaving yet," the beggar continued. "You have more questions. And I have more answers."

At first, Sultan was a bit scared and, in fact, felt uneasy. The beggar talked and acted so strangely, almost like those magical beings he read about in books. Sultan's mind raced, asking himself 'Is he a mage? Sage? Witch? Or wizard?' 

He tried to get his thoughts under control, muttering to himself “No! This is Earth, and there's no such thing as fantasy in the real world.” It was his attempt to protect his sanity.

So he turned back to look at the old beggar. And when he did, he said to the man, “What do you mean, sir?”

Even though Sultan had posed the question, he wasn't sure if he actually wanted to know the answer. The truth was, he was content with his life. He had no burning questions that needed to be answered. 

The only thing that confused him was the old man's glowing purple eye. But he kept this thought to himself. He didn't want to seem impolite by asking about such an oddity.

As if the old man had somehow heard his unspoken thoughts about the oddity of his glowing purple eyes, they suddenly intensified in color. They glowed brighter for a moment, then dimmed back to their original shade.

The old man's terrifying and unsettling expression slowly faded away, and he returned to a more natural-looking face. He spoke once more, saying, “I need your help. The bread you gave me isn't enough. But I promise, if you help me, I'll give you something in return.”

However, Sultan shook his head and explained, “I don't have anything I can offer you in this city. Only the rich have everything here. I'm as poor as you are. The reason I am in front of the jewelry store is that I was trying to buy a ring for my girlfriend. I've saved every penny I could to make this happen. That's all I have to offer in this world.”

The old man immediately responded, hope in his eyes, “Then I can give you a ring, one that you can't find anywhere.” 

Sultan scoffed, not believing the man for a second. “There's no way that's possible,” he said. “How could you possibly give me something that's not sold anywhere else?”

The old man simply smiled and looked Sultan directly in the eyes. Sultan's unease returned, but he stood his ground.

The old man quickly reached into a brown thatched bag that Sultan hadn't noticed before. Sultan's eyes widened, filled with anticipation. What could the old man possibly have in that bag?

The old man uttered a single word: “Here.” He raised his clenched fist up to Sultan's face. 

“Huh?” Sultan was confused. There was nothing else other than the old man's fisted hand. Sultan wondered again what was in the bag. Did the old man even take anything out of it at all? 

The old man just sat there, his fist raised and his expression unreadable.

“Take it, kid," the old man muttered, wriggling his fisted hand in front of Sultan. 

Sultan could see nothing in the old man's hand, but he could feel the weight of expectation hanging in the air. On the one hand, he didn't want to appear impolite. On the other, he couldn't take something that didn't exist. 

The old man's expression was unreadable, and the silence seemed to stretch on for eternity. Finally, Sultan decided to play along. He reached out his hand, as if to accept a gift that was not there. 

The old man's eyes lit up, and he lowered his hand. The old man's fist unclenched, revealing a small, delicate ring made of purple glowing properties, making it seem like an amethyst, and adorned with intricate gold designs. 

“Woah!”

Sultan took the ring and turned it over in his hand, examining it. The stone was smooth and polished, it was a beautiful piece of jewelry. In fact, worth buying with lots of thousands.

Sultan was so mesmerized by the ring that he spoke without thinking. “I'll take it,” he blurted out. 

The old man's eyes lit up, and Sultan quickly reached into his pocket, pulling out the envelope of money. “Here,” he said, handing the envelope to the old man. 

The man took it, but said nothing. He simply gave Sultan a small nod, stood up and turned to leave.

Suddenly, the old man spun around. Faster than Sultan could react, he lashed out with a knife, slashing Sultan's right arm. 

“Aargh! You!” Sultan yelled in pain as his blood dripped to the ground. He stared in shock as the old man's figure began to fade. Within moments, the old man had vanished. Sultan was left alone, bleeding and confused and shocked!

Everything happened so fast that Sultan could barely process anything. He looked around and saw the busy streets with people walking around, but how had they not noticed anything?

A boy walked down the lane, and Sultan stopped him. “Hey, did you see an old beggar anywhere?” he asked, refusing to believe the old man disappeared in front of him.

"Oh? No," the boy replied, shaking his head frantically. "This zone is out of reach for beggars of all sorts. They can't be here," the boy added, then put in his headset before walking away.

***

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