There was no shortage of people born with precocious wisdom in this world. Some called them geniuses and envied their "gifts," while others endowed them with an air of mysticism.
"Please, sit," the young imam, seated on the ground, said to Nick.
Nick imitated the Bedouins and sat stiffly on the floor.
"Your translation..."
"Did you bring a gift?" the young imam interrupted Nick with a smile.
"No," Nick said expressionlessly.
"Then I will not tell you everything I translated." The imam smiled mysteriously.
Nick looked very impatient.
"If you do not intend to tell me, then return my book."
"Let us begin with the myth of the Jiyin People's birth. Legend says there was a tree that suddenly grew teeth and learned to walk. It dwelled beside a river caught between two banks, taut as a bowstring, and then fell madly in love with its own shadow, like the youth in Greek mythology who shared his name with the narcissus," the imam said.
Nick's eyes widened in surprise.
"Like you, I initially thought shadows were those dark-gray things beneath our feet." The imam pointed at the lengthened shadow cast by the sunset. "They call what we call 'shadows' black honeydew, while a reflection in a mirror is called consciousness in that hazy moment before waking. It can have some sort of connection to dreams."
"What?" Nick asked in confusion.
"Mandrills are not good at moving, or rather, once they reach a certain stage, they become bloated and sluggish. They eat Jiyin infants called 'Shadow Bait,' then regain their agility and thinness. In other words, mandrills eat black shadows," the imam explained.
Nick looked down at his own shadow. Because the floor had been polished so clean, he could see his own reflection within its dark-gray shape. Then he looked