They used to play together. They were best friends. It didn’t matter that they belonged to different tribes from different countries.  

She was born in Endon. Endon was a country of waving grass, evergreen trees, flowering fields, clear waters, and chirping birds. The sky was blue and the sun always shone. She lived in a hut near the great Assouh River. She had everything her heart could desire: a loving family, peace, and happiness. Her name was Orchidea. 

He was from Alib, the vast, golden desert. Alib had many wild camels, cactuses, and poisonous insects. This desert had nothing in material wealth, but it was home to many tribes.  

He belonged to one of these tribes—the strongest one, called Ahaud. The Ahaud tribe had mighty tribesmen, strong weaponry, many camels and tents, and a little white city near a tiny oasis. The Ahaud boy was called Roziel. 

The Endonians worshipped seven gods. The mightiest and highest god was called Endon. He was the great peacekeeper. The Endonians didn’t pray to Endon and the six other gods all day and night. Instead, the gods were thought of as illusionary beings who lived high up in the sky. 

The Alibians, including members of the Ahaud tribe, believed in only one god: mighty Sahad, the father of all. The vast desert had little to offer. While travelling through the never-ending sand, the Alibians prayed to the great Sahad. The Ahauds, and all the Alibians, loved their god. 

These two children, though completely different, still found common interests. They were both children, they were both human, and they both loved to play. So when the boy’s tribesmen travelled through the desert and arrived at the Assouh River, the boy would often meet the girl there. He would cross the river to hold her hand. Although it was forbidden, they would play together. 

It did not matter to the children that their friendship was forbidden. Endonians and Alibians hated each other. They were often at war. Alibians attacked Endonian shores, killing the people and taking their goods. Endonians would hang Alibians in public as revenge. 

This war lasted for centuries. It all began because of their religious differences. The Alibians thought the Endonians had little faith. The Endonians thought that the Alibians had only faith and nothing more. So they never accepted each other. 

But Orchidea and Roziel were just children. They knew little about these religious differences—or any differences. They saw each other as normal humans. In fact, they thought they were quite similar. Both of them had two eyes, two hands, two feet, and the will to play.  

So what if they spoke different languages? Their games didn't need any language. So what if they were different genders? Their games could be played by anyone. So what if they were of different nationalities? Their games didn't concern national affairs. To play their games, they just needed one thing: each other.  

And they had each other once a week, when the Ahaudian tribe arrived at the Assouh River for water. After a day, the tribe would continue on its way. 

So every week they played, smiling, giggling, and having fun. That was all they needed. 

“Roziel, wait! You’re too fast!”  

Eight-year-old Orchidea chased after Roziel. Older by four years, he was much faster.  

“Haha, try and catch me, Orchid!” The red-haired boy giggled and rushed onward. 

The children played on the shores of the large, clean river. They raced through the tall, green grass spotted with flowers. Beyond the grasses sat little wooden huts. The other side of the river was covered with golden sand. It was barren except for the white tents of the desert nomads.  

Orchidea caught up with Roziel, who intentionally slowed his pace. She ran at him, making him fall into the grass. They both laughed. Orchidea giggled and put a flower crown on the boy's head. Roziel chuckled.  

“What’s this? A rose crown?” he asked. 

“Yes! It makes your red hair even more beautiful!” Orchidea giggled and reached out to touch the hair she loved so much. 

“Thank you!” Roziel beamed and softly fingered the rose petals. 

Suddenly they heard a voice from the other side of the river. “Roziel, get over here! We’re leaving!” 

Hearing this, both children sighed. 

“Well, here you are again, leaving . . .” Orchidea looked down sadly. 

“Hey! But I’ll be back, won’t I?” Roziel kneeled beside her, hugging her tightly. "And when I'm back we can play hide-and-seek in that evergreen forest. The one with the flowers we love so much. Right?" She giggled, and he smiled. "See you later, tiny!"  

Orchidea watched her friend cross the bridge of the Assouh River and run up to his family. They were clothed in white from head to toe, even their faces were covered. Only the guns they bore weren’t white.  

Orchidea watched as Roziel jumped onto his camel and followed his family into the vast desert. She didn’t move until Roziel’s white cloak disappeared behind the golden horizon. 

Sunday came. Orchidea knew very well what this meant. 

“It is Sahad Day! Roziel will come!” she cried and leaped up from her bed. She dressed quickly and rushed out to the river shore. She looked out at the vast desert on the other side of the river. She waited for him, just like she always did. 

Her eyes widened with joy as he appeared. He came with his camel and his nomadic family, as he usually did. But there was something different about him.  

Roziel, who always wore his hair bushy and long, now had it tied in a low ponytail. He looked more grown up, and he wore different clothes. His expression was sad instead of cheerful. 

Orchidea became worried. What did this mean? Did something happen? Was something wrong? 

Roziel slowly crossed the wooden bridge on his camel and approached Orchidea. 

“Roziel!” Orchidea jumped happily. 

“Hello, Orchid,” he said somberly. 

“Wh . . . What’s wrong, Roziel? Did anything happen?” 

“Actually . . . yes.” Roziel sighed. “The thing is . . . this must be our last meeting, tiny.”

“What? Why?!” Orchidea asked. Tears came to her eyes.

"They . . . they said I must become a prophet. I don't really understand why, but I must move far away from here. I can never even see my own tribe. They will take me to a building in the center of our desert, in the Cloister of Sahad. I must study there.” 

“So you’re going to school? That’s awful!” Orchidea exclaimed. 

“It is not a school, exactly. It is a monastery, but both men and women live there. They pray to the Great Sahad, our god, every day and every night. There the prophet of Sahad must sit. There is a prophet in every generation. The prophet is chosen by a special sign: red hair.  

“In the Alibian tribes, no person has red hair. It is extremely rare and occurs only once every generation. The one with red hair has the skills of a prophet. That is what the elders told me. And that means . . ." he sighed. "That means I'm going far away. I’m really sad, Orchid. I will miss you.”  

He stepped down from his camel to hug her. 

“But . . . but . . . we didn’t even get to play hide-and-seek!” Orchid said through her tears. “You . . . you promised, Roziel!” She was sobbing. “I will miss you so much! You’re my only friend! Please don’t go!” 

Roziel sighed again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Orchid.” 

They held each other, squeezing each other as if wanting to exchange all the love they had in their hearts. And then, Roziel felt the soft touch of a petal on his palm. He looked down and saw that the little girl had handed him a deep red rose. 

“What’s this?” Roziel asked. 

“A rose,” Orchidea said. “I want to gift it to you as a goodbye. I want you to remember that I will always keep our memories and our friendship in my heart. Please don’t forget me, Roziel.” Tears ran down her cheeks. “I know that roses do not grow in the desert. But I believe this one will never fade. It is entwined with my feelings. You will always be my best friend, Roziel. Always.” 

Roziel smiled. He wiped away the girl's tears with his fingers and hugged her again, taking the rose.  

“Thank you, Orchid,” he said quietly. Then he stepped back and mounted his camel.  

Orchidea watched him cross the bridge and gallop away. Soon only his cloudy white cloak could be seen on the horizon. Then it too disappeared.