Prince Amir, did not find it easy mixing up with the boys of his age, though they accepted him but he was always treated with contempt and since he didn't speak their native language. So the mocked him openly, laughing and hurling insults he couldn't understand but he could feel they were making fun of him.
One fateful morning, they were sent to work in the royal orchards, harvesting ripe apples into woven baskets. As the boys began picking fruit, one of the king's guards announced, "Whoever gathers the most apples by sunset will be rewarded, he will dine at the king's royal table tonight."
Amir was very happy. This was his chance to compete. He moved quickly, filling his basket faster than most, working with focus, energy and determination.
But not everyone was happy about his progress.
Theseus, a close friend of Pericles, the king's nephew, watched Amir with jealous eyes. He whispered a plan to Pericles, and the two went and they dumped Amir's basket and poured its contents into Pericles's own, while Amir bent under a tree.
When the final count was done, Pericles was announced the winner.
Amir tried to protest. "That was my basket! They cheated!" But it was too late.
When the king's guards had left, Theseus struck him hard. Others joined in. They beat him until he dropped to the ground, bruised and barely catching his breath.
Then Nikoloas, a renowned battle hardened greek warrior, was passing bye when he saw the commotion. He approached the fallen boy coming to his rescue and the other boys quickly left.
Nikoloas dropped a small bronze coin on the ground, he squatted beside Amir and said. "You need to be strong... so that you can read sounds".
Amir looked at him, dazed. "What sound?"
Then he helped him to his feet.
Nikoloas stood calm, " The sound of the wind. You must become the wind, unpredictable."
And as he moved away Amir asked again "How do I read sounds?"
Nikoloas replied without turning back. "You listen."
That night, Amir returned to his chambers, wounded and silent. The rejection still burned in his chest. He
he knew he needed self defence by learning how to fight. He brought out his father's sword to train only to discover that it was too heavy for him to swing. It was a legendary sword, he could barely use it in a fight.
"Perhaps the man I met today is a warrior." He whispered. "I have to find out here he lives and seek his help."
At the palace that evening, Pericles was introduced by the kings guard, as the champion of the woven baskets, he walked in majestically raising his to hands in the air with pride for his achievement to the clapping audience and he dined at the royal table beside the king, queen, and Princess Callista. He spoke boldly, praising himself with every sentence, trying to impress the princess.
He had long fancied her and saw her as the key to becoming king especially since King Thalerius had no male heir. Marrying Callista would make him the rightful successor, according to royal tradition.
But as he spoke, Callista's eyes wandered, not to him, but toward the empty seat at the far end of the table.
The one where Amir was meant to sit.
The princess asked, where is Amir?
"Oh he couldn't stand such a terrible defeat from mighty Pericles." Pericles quickly responded and every one laughed hard and cheered, except the princess.
She had begun to love him. "He has been through alot." she thought to herself. "I really miss him."
As the feast carried on, Pericles laughed the loudest, bragging about his victory and tossing charming glances at Princess Callista. After the meal, he approached her chair with a confident smile.
"May I walk you to your chambers, Princess?" he asked, extending his hand.
Callista stood but didn't take it. Her guards stepped forward instinctively, standing between them.
"I'm fine," she said politely but coldly. "You should enjoy the rest of the evening."
Pericles forced a smile, masking his frustration as she turned and walked away, her long dress flowing behind her.
She didn't even look back.
As she disappeared into the hallway, her mind wasn't on the banquet… or Pericles.
It was on the boy who didn't show up.
The boy who should've been sitting at the end of the table.
"Where are you, Amir?" she whispered to herself.