With the financial hardships you faced alongside your elderly, blind father, the rejection of your people who refused to help, and the weight of abject poverty, you found yourself with no choice but to take matters into your own hands.

The idea of reclaiming your father’s money from distant relatives filled you with unease—you had never wanted to leave. Yet here you were.

With a weary sigh, a farewell embrace, and the suspicious glances of your neighbors clinging to your back, you set off at dawn, the sun barely risen, your steps cautious and measured. Fear followed you closely.

You knew neither the forest’s creatures nor its roads, yet the burden of your family’s survival pressed heavier than any dread.

Midway through the journey, your thoughts fractured. Someone was walking beside you. He did not startle you, nor demand attention, yet his presence was unmistakable.

He was a tall, serene young man, handsome in a quiet way. Charcoal-colored hair framed his face as it flowed down his back. When his eyes met yours, a gentle smile curved his lips.

“Welcome,” he greeted politely. “I am Azariah, son of Hananiah, one of your people. I've come to accompany you on the journey.”

At those kind words, your racing heart steadied. Peace washed over you like a blessing—surely a sign from the Lord. You would not walk alone into the unknown!

Still, as you accepted his company with relief, doubt lingered. You were certain you had never known a man named Azariah, not even in a village too small to hide unfamiliar faces. However, you decide to postpone the questions, at least for now.

The journey passed with little incident. When pebbles threatened your footing, his arms caught you with effortless strength. When thorns cut your feet, he insisted on binding the wounds despite your protests. Within hours, you were wrapped in bandages far beyond necessity.

When you asked of his tribe or homeland, he only replied, “I am from the Children of Israel,” and said no more. He didn't seem interested in sharing any details, nor did he reveal why he was accompanying you on your journey to your destination, other than that he wanted to guide you out of goodwill.

Days passed. Progress felt slow, uncertain. By grace unseen, you found a small lake. As you washed, a great fish attacked. You killed it with some effort—yet successed at the end. this wasn't your first encounter with the wild.

What startled you was the-so-called Azariah guy’s command: to keep the heart, liver, and gall. You obeyed without question; he had proven wiser in every step thus far.

Finally, an inn appeared. You entered, and a sense of comfort washed over you, your muscles relaxing. He followed you. The room you took was quiet; sunlight filtered through the windows, painting the floor golden.

“Rest,” He murmured gently. Voice is lullaby-like. “Tomorrow we continue. The Lord will guide what remains.” A warm smile graces his lips. you felt relieved just looking at him.

You sit, feeling his presence close, constant, unobtrusive, even gentle. His gaze lingers for a moment on your hands, your tired shoulders, the lines of weariness on your face.

He adds quietly. "God bless you." With these encouraging words, he sits up on his own bed, slowly brushing his hair with his own fingers.