Long ago, in a land carved by wind and time, there lived an old man named Elion who wandered from village to village with nothing but a wooden staff and a heart full of kindness. He had no throne, no crown, and no desire for either. Yet wherever he went, people whispered, “There walks a king.” Elion healed the sick with herbs he gathered from distant cliffs, mediated disputes with words that soothed like rain, and taught children to read the stars. He slept under the open sky, ate what was offered, and gave more than he ever took. His wisdom was deep, not from books, but from listening, truly listening—to the pain and joy of others. One winter, Elion fell ill. Word spread like wildfire. Hundreds came, not with fear, but with fierce devotion. They brought blankets, food, medicine, and prayers. The village healer wept as she said, “He is the soul of our people.” His hospital bill vanished into the hands of strangers who insisted it was th...