Before embarking on his journey back to the sailors, Abu Bakr spoke with the hermit one last time. The village boy, who would stay behind to complete his education, stood next to him. Surprisingly, it was the hermit who spoke first.
"It has been a year now, and in that time, I've mastered speaking and writing that language well," the hermit began, pausing briefly before continuing. "In all these months, I have never asked you a question. I have always been the one to answer. But now, I have one question for you."
He paused, looking deep into Abu Bakr's eyes, his voice growing more serious.
"I have spent a lifetime here, helping anyone who asks for knowledge. And many have come—religious people, those who wanted to end the cycle of violence, and countless others. Yet, no one has ever asked me about that language you sought to learn, except you. You who traveled farther than anyone else. What is it that you hope to achieve by learning it?"
Abu Bakr felt a knot form in his throat. Should he reveal the book he had kept hidden from everyone, even the sailors waiting below? Or should he remain silent, as he often did when evading questions? Taking a deep breath, he pulled the book from his bag.
The hermit's reaction was immediate. As he held the book, his expression turned from curiosity to shock. He stared at the letters on its cover, flipping through the pages with disbelief. At certain points, he stopped, reading portions before continuing. After a long pause, he looked at Abu Bakr, clearly astonished.
"Where did you get this book?" the hermit asked, his voice now filled with awe.
Abu Bakr explained everything—the journey he had taken, the kingdom he once ruled, and the secret he had carried with him. The village boy listened in stunned silence, learning for the first time that the companion who had traveled with him was once a king. When Abu Bakr finished his story, he felt a weight lifted from his shoulders.
The hermit returned the book to him, and his tone shifted. "You came to learn a language, but you never asked who spoke it. Let me tell you a story."
He began the tale, his voice taking on a distant quality as if recounting an ancient memory:
"In a time long past, before anyone can remember, there was a land between here and where you came from. It was a place beyond paradise, filled with advanced architecture and sciences far beyond what your mind can imagine. This land was divided into seven kingdoms, each with its own proud scientists and towering buildings. But this land did not welcome visitors from the sea. Those who arrived by water mysteriously disappeared and were never seen again, and so, the beaches became forbidden.
One day, rain began to fall over the land. The children in one village were saddened that they could not play outside, and as the days turned into weeks, then months, the rain did not stop. The villagers didn't realize that the entire land was being flooded. Eventually, the sea rose and began to flood the nearby villages, forcing the people to flee to higher ground, but the rain did not cease.
The inhabitants of the seven kingdoms built seven massive ships, loading them with everything necessary to survive: food, water, and most importantly, books that contained all their knowledge. These ships sailed for months, finally landing on a new land that had not yet been touched by the rising water.
Over time, the rain subsided, and the sea began to withdraw. The survivors of the seven kingdoms established themselves in this new land, which they named 'Sivar.' They divided the land into seven regions and began rebuilding their civilization. But as time passed, the land itself began to change. The once lush landscape became a barren desert, the sand turning red with the heat of the sun. The people began to die of thirst, and those who could not endure the heat fled into the unknown, leaving behind the red city of Sefar.
That city, now lost to the sands of time, remained a silent witness to the end of an era. The few survivors who crossed the desert founded new kingdoms based on the teachings from the books they carried. These books, the ones that survived the great journey, gave birth to many civilizations across the world. But the language they were written in was soon forgotten, and the civilization that spoke it vanished from memory."
The hermit paused, pointing to the book in Abu Bakr's hands. "This book is one of those precious few. It was carried by survivors who crossed the desert, keeping their knowledge alive. That ancient language, the first language, is the one you sought to learn."
Abu Bakr, in disbelief, felt the weight of the book in his hands, as if it had suddenly become a burden he could no longer carry. He had come seeking a language, but now he understood that the book he held contained the legacy of an entire lost civilization. His hands trembled as he grasped the enormity of what he had uncovered.
Mandine, a few days later, closed the book in her hands, remembering a letter from a blog she had once read. The writer had commented on the pyramids, suggesting that they might be the product of a single, long-lost civilization. The book in her hands was answering a question that had once fascinated her as a child—"How did these civilizations start?"
Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly. She knew it was time to finish the book, and with only a few pages left, she turned the page, ready to uncover the final pieces of the mystery.