Source
Korum
When I was a child, my father used to tell me fantastics stories before bed. My favorite was the Korum’s story; a beautiful horse that crossed the haven, gave bread to the hungry and helped the needy. Sometimes he was white, sometimes black. My father told me that Korum’s color varied according to the dominant emotions in the lands he traveled.
He told me stories of light and hope. He described landscapes where my favorite horse glowed white. However, I also heard from his lips horribles tragedies and atrocious acts; whose stage was some land devastated by the ambition of power, when the noble animal wore his skin of dark tar.
I discovered over the years that the horse was a man. A wandering traveler with a mission to help. And I learned from my father that life is like this: in the world there is malice that you can’t fight; but, you always find resistance from adversity.