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Authors: Paulo Coelho
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The Manual of the Warrior of Light
The Manual of the Warrior of Light Coelho, Paulo
The disciple is not above his master; but every one that is perfect shall be as his
master. Luke 6: 40
Prologue
'Just off the beach to the west of the village lies an island, and on it is a vast temple
with many bells,' said the woman.
The boy noticed that she was dressed strangely and had a veil covering her head. He had
never seen her before.
'Have you ever visited that temple?' she asked. 'Go there and tell me what you think of
it?'
Seduced by the woman's beauty, the boy went to the place she had indicated. He sat down on
the beach and stared out at the horizon, but he saw only what he always saw: blue sky and
ocean.
Disappointed, he walked to a nearby fishing village and asked if anyone there knew about
an island and a temple.
'Oh, that was many years ago, when my great-grandparents were alive,' said an old
fisherman. 'There was an earthquake, and the island was swallowed up by the sea. But
although we can no longer see the island, we can still hear the temple bells when the
ocean sets them swinging down below.'
The boy went back to the beach and tried to hear the bells. He spent the whole afternoon
there, but all he heard was the noise of the waves and the cries of the seagulls.
When night fell, his parents came looking for him. The following morning, he went back to
the beach; he could not believe that such a beautiful woman would have lied to him. If she
ever returned, he could tell her that, although he
had not seen the island, he had heard the temple bells set ringing by the motion of the
waves.
Many months passed; the woman did not return and the boy forgot all about her; now he was
convinced that he needed to discover the riches and treasures in the submerged temple. If
he could hear the bells, he would be able to locate it and salvage the treasure hidden
below.
He lost interest in school and even in his friends. He became the butt of all the other
children's jokes. They used to say: 'He's not like us. He prefers to sit looking at the
sea because he's afraid of being beaten in our games.'
And they all laughed to see the boy sitting on the shore.
Although he still could not hear the old temple bells ringing, the boy nevertheless
learned about other things. He began to realise that he had grown so used to the sound of
the waves that he was no longer distracted by them. Soon after that, he became used to the
cries of the seagulls, the buzzing of the bees and the wind blowing amongst the palm trees.
Six months after his first conversation with the woman, the boy could sit there oblivious
to all other noises, but he still could not hear the bells from the drowned temple.
Fishermen came and talked to him, insisting that they had heard the bells. But the boy
never did. Some time later, however, the fishermen changed their tune: 'You spend far
too much time thinking about the bells beneath the sea. Forget about them and
go back to playing with your friends. Perhaps it's only fishermen who can hear them.'
After almost a year, the boy thought: 'Perhaps they're right. I would do better to grow up
and become a fisherman and come down to this beach every morning, because I've come to
love it here.' And he thought too: 'Perhaps it's just another legend and the bells were
all shattered during the earthquake and have never rung out since.'
That afternoon, he decided to go back home.
He walked down to the ocean to say goodbye. He looked once more at the natural world
around him and because he was no longer concerned about the bells, he could again smile at
the beauty of the seagulls' cries, the roar of the sea and the wind blowing in the palm
trees. Far off, he heard the sound of his friends playing and he felt glad to think that
he would soon resume his childhood games.
The boy was happy and - as only a child can - he felt grateful
The Manual of the Warrior of Light Coelho, Paulo
The disciple is not above his master; but every one that is perfect shall be as his
master. Luke 6: 40
Prologue
'Just off the beach to the west of the village lies an island, and on it is a vast temple
with many bells,' said the woman.
The boy noticed that she was dressed strangely and had a veil covering her head. He had
never seen her before.
'Have you ever visited that temple?' she asked. 'Go there and tell me what you think of
it?'
Seduced by the woman's beauty, the boy went to the place she had indicated. He sat down on
the beach and stared out at the horizon, but he saw only what he always saw: blue sky and
ocean.
Disappointed, he walked to a nearby fishing village and asked if anyone there knew about
an island and a temple.
'Oh, that was many years ago, when my great-grandparents were alive,' said an old
fisherman. 'There was an earthquake, and the island was swallowed up by the sea. But
although we can no longer see the island, we can still hear the temple bells when the
ocean sets them swinging down below.'
The boy went back to the beach and tried to hear the bells. He spent the whole afternoon
there, but all he heard was the noise of the waves and the cries of the seagulls.
When night fell, his parents came looking for him. The following morning, he went back to
the beach; he could not believe that such a beautiful woman would have lied to him. If she
ever returned, he could tell her that, although he
had not seen the island, he had heard the temple bells set ringing by the motion of the
waves.
Many months passed; the woman did not return and the boy forgot all about her; now he was
convinced that he needed to discover the riches and treasures in the submerged temple. If
he could hear the bells, he would be able to locate it and salvage the treasure hidden
below.
He lost interest in school and even in his friends. He became the butt of all the other
children's jokes. They used to say: 'He's not like us. He prefers to sit looking at the
sea because he's afraid of being beaten in our games.'
And they all laughed to see the boy sitting on the shore.
Although he still could not hear the old temple bells ringing, the boy nevertheless
learned about other things. He began to realise that he had grown so used to the sound of
the waves that he was no longer distracted by them. Soon after that, he became used to the
cries of the seagulls, the buzzing of the bees and the wind blowing amongst the palm trees.
Six months after his first conversation with the woman, the boy could sit there oblivious
to all other noises, but he still could not hear the bells from the drowned temple.
Fishermen came and talked to him, insisting that they had heard the bells. But the boy
never did. Some time later, however, the fishermen changed their tune: 'You spend far
too much time thinking about the bells beneath the sea. Forget about them and
go back to playing with your friends. Perhaps it's only fishermen who can hear them.'
After almost a year, the boy thought: 'Perhaps they're right. I would do better to grow up
and become a fisherman and come down to this beach every morning, because I've come to
love it here.' And he thought too: 'Perhaps it's just another legend and the bells were
all shattered during the earthquake and have never rung out since.'
That afternoon, he decided to go back home.
He walked down to the ocean to say goodbye. He looked once more at the natural world
around him and because he was no longer concerned about the bells, he could again smile at
the beauty of the seagulls' cries, the roar of the sea and the wind blowing in the palm
trees. Far off, he heard the sound of his friends playing and he felt glad to think that
he would soon resume his childhood games.
The boy was happy and - as only a child can - he felt grateful
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