The universe feels the same way. Always remember that we are from the sky, and the earth is only a two-way journey, a one-time trip. Remember that we will eventually leave the body that covers us here and ascend. We will leave behind the bruises and deformities that we despise, our strengths and weaknesses, our fears and courage, our ugliness and beauty. We live in this universe for a while and return to where we came from. We are guests here—nothing more, nothing less. Say to yourself in conversation with your soul, "O my soul, do not tyrannize or harm anything outside of you. O my soul, be tolerant of what you found here when you descended from the poles of heaven until you return to it. Be the way you were first created." You will find that the universe agrees with your actions.
But as you speak, know that there are some spirits born with acute hearing, who learn the virtues of morality, living with kindness, respect, and goodness. They learn that parents are second only to the Creator, that others are human beings searching for their way, just as they are. They learn that wrong is inherently wrong and will hurt them, and that right will make them stronger. When they reach maturity, they forget all this and throw it away, adopting their own laws under the pretext that instinct is not a fixed law, and that they are creators. They forget that the attribute of creation belongs to the Creator. However, it is only a matter of time until deafness affects their ears and disease inhabits their souls, causing them to wreak havoc on the earth.
Mandine read this the next morning from the book she had borrowed from the library. It felt as if the words were speaking directly to her soul. She stopped reading at those lines and decided to check her email. A message from the university professor she had visited the day before appeared, asking her to come to him as he had discovered something new about the language. She emailed Adam, who apologized for not being able to come, citing other work to do, so Mandine had to go on her own.
When she arrived at his office, she was told that he was currently giving a lecture and would be free afterward. She asked for the classroom number and decided to attend the lecture. She sat at the back of the room, listening to his words. He seemed far more serious than when she met him yesterday, and Mandine wondered where professors got all that seriousness. Did they leave their private lives behind when they stepped into the classroom?
After the lecture, some students approached him with questions that they felt couldn't wait for the next class, as though the world would end if they didn't get answers right away. When he finished, Mandine approached him. They exchanged greetings and started chatting about the weather as they walked toward his office, as if the weather were an important subject.
"I thought I had seen such symbols before," the professor said. "I searched for hours yesterday, almost giving up, but you know, the moment we give up is often when we find what we're looking for. I found similar letters on the inner walls of the Egyptian pyramids, specifically the Great Pyramid of Khufu."
Mandine felt elated that she had finally uncovered something. He continued, pulling out some photos he had printed. "See, it's exactly the same letters."
"What does that writing mean?" she asked.
"This is the part that surprised me. Neither its history nor translation is known, even to this day. At first, people thought it was just symbols, but the organization and distribution suggest it's a language spoken by very few at that time," he paused, then added, "And the same language appears in your manuscript, which is evidence of its importance."
"Can I visit the place? I mean, the spot where the writing is inside the pyramid—can it be visited?"
"Yes, would you be interested in going to see it?"
"I think so," Mandine replied.
The professor straightened and spoke to her. "Can I see that manuscript? Maybe I can find something else in it."
Mandine thought to herself, Adam was right to hide the subject of the book.
"There's nothing else in it besides what's in your hands," Mandine said as she stood up. "Please let me know what your research leads to. You can write to me anytime, and I'll make sure to include your name in the dedication."
She said her goodbyes and left, receiving curious looks from the professor.
When Mandine reached the pyramids, she felt as if she were traveling back in time. She stood there for a few minutes, reflecting on the advice from the driver to visit this place. She felt incredibly young in the shadow of these massive monuments. Despite having visited Egypt before, this was her first time at the pyramids, and she realized how much she had missed. She joined one of the groups, paying half the price of entry for foreigners after speaking Arabic at the gate. Once inside the Great Pyramid, everything was perfect. She had read about how accurately the pyramids were built, to the point that it was considered impossible for humans at that time to construct such an edifice.
She spoke to the group leader about the location of the writings and he promised to show her at the end of the tour. When they arrived at the spot, Mandine took a moment to examine the wall. The writing was indeed similar to that in the book, but the order of the letters was different, suggesting the meanings were not identical. She took photos, making sure it was allowed, then left.
A month had passed since that night when Abu Bakr had sat with his father in the room that remained locked since his death. King Abu Bakr used to visit his father's grave every day in the early days of his mourning, but eventually stopped. He realized that grief doesn't serve the departed; it harms the living, especially when the memories left behind cannot be erased. He then recalled Artemis' longing to meet her father and remembered the letter that had been forgotten in his father's death. He decided to visit the address.
That night, Abu Bakr stood before a small, abandoned house, too small for even two people. Its door was half eroded, and small weeds grew on the roof. A servant appeared with someone else and walked toward him. "Yes, this is the place, sir," the servant said. "I spoke to a neighbor. The owner died about two and a half years ago, and we searched for his family but couldn't find them. We buried him ourselves."
This news shocked Abu Bakr. He understood then why Artemis' father hadn't responded to her letters. He looked again at the house, then decided to enter. His footsteps echoed in the abandoned house, accompanied by the sound of the wind whistling through the broken roof. He paused to listen, paying attention to the barely perceptible beat of his heart. Did all broken things make a sound? Or had the storms in his heart ceased? As he stepped inside, a strange calmness overtook him. The house seemed warm despite its empty appearance and the darkness that had replaced the light. He could smell wet firewood, and water had flowed into one corner of the house. He left the house and locked the door behind him, walking away, realizing it was time to face his fear. It was time to return to his father's room, as he had entered this house, not knowing what awaited him there.