The glow of the kerosene lamp painted dancing shadows on the tent walls—shadows that resembled elongated fingers reaching out to grab them, before retreating into the dark. Outside, the distant howl of a wolf pierced the silence of the "Al-Fada" forest, as if whispering a warning: "You haven't arrived yet... but the path knows you are coming."
Elia sat in the corner, his back pressed against his travel bag, eyes fixed on an ancient manuscript that reeked of mold and time. Its cover was of peeling brown leather, and its yellowed pages flaked at the edges like autumn leaves. He read in silence, his lips moving slowly, before suddenly looking up.
"Friends... listen to this legend!"
Sima raised an eyebrow, wrapping a scarf tighter around her neck. "Another legend? Elia, we came here to debunk legends, not to read them!"
"This isn't an ordinary legend... this..." He paused to look at the cover. "This is a manuscript I found at an auction in the old market. It's over two hundred years old."
Jad, who was reviewing the regional map by the lamp's light, looked up with interest. Maria reached her hand toward the manuscript.
"Let's hear it."
Elia took a deep breath and began to read in a low voice, as if the words themselves feared being overheard by unauthorized ears:
"In the name of the One who created night and day, making them a sign for those who cross... This is the tale of the 'Noon Castle,' built by the Jinn in three moonlit nights, and inhabited by Shaddad bin 'Ad II, the King of Shadows and the Guardian of Lost Time..."
Elia paused for a moment, carefully turning a brittle page. "There's a part missing here... the page is corroded." He held the manuscript toward the light, trying to decipher the faint lines:
"...Shaddad realized that all kingdoms fade... all kings die... and he refused to let his reign face oblivion. So he gathered the sorcerers and priests... and commanded them to imprison Time itself... to cage the days and nights... in... in..."
He stopped again, frustrated. "It's erased... there are scribbles here too."
He continued reading, his voice growing more solemn:
"When the task was complete, Shaddad sat upon his throne in the heart of the castle, with Time standing still around him like stagnant water. No sun rose or set; no moon appeared or vanished. An eternal shadow... a Perpetual Noon. And fearing any intruder might seize his realm, he placed upon it a 'Rasad' (An Ancient Guard)..."
Elia froze. His eyes widened as he stared at the word.
"A Rasad... what? Finish it!" Sima urged impatiently.
Elia slowly looked up. "The Rasad... the Guard that never fades, never dies... and never breaks..."
"Unless!" Maria interrupted, pointing to a word barely visible at the bottom of the page.
Elia brought the manuscript closer to his eyes, trying to decode the decayed letters:
"Unless... Unless by... De... Deny..."
"Denial..." he whispered, as if uttering a forbidden word.
A long silence fell over the tent. Even the wolf's howl seemed to cease for a heartbeat.
"Denial of what? What exactly must be denied?" Jad asked, his voice calm but laced with a lethal curiosity.
"It's not clear... the page is wiped clean." Elia turned the page in disappointment, then added: "There's one last line at the bottom, in a different handwriting... perhaps someone added it later."
He read slowly:
"And when humans deny its existence... they think they have freed themselves... but they... shall be... its Crossing."
He finished. Four breaths hitched for a second.
Then Sima let out a short, nervous laugh. "The legend of imprisoning time? And a Guard that only breaks through denial? You mean, because we came here saying it's not real..."
Maria shrugged. "If we are the ones who break the Guard, then we can enter the castle and return safely."
Jad folded his map and looked toward the tent's opening. From there, the castle's peak was visible in the distance—a black specter under the starlight. "I didn't understand the last line that way." He turned to them all. "The line said: 'They shall be its crossing'... not their crossing. It means we might not be the ones crossing the Guard; the Guard might be the one crossing through us."
An even longer silence followed. Heavy. One where they could hear each other's heartbeats.
Elia slowly closed the manuscript and looked at his three friends. "Tomorrow morning, we go to the castle. We film everything, the surroundings, the structure, and we return. That was the agreement. We aren't here to believe in these superstitions."
Sima stood up abruptly. "Fine, let's sleep. Tomorrow is a long day."
But Maria remained seated, staring at the manuscript. "Elia... I have a question."
"Yes?"
"The erased part of the manuscript... what would it have said? What exactly is the Guard that must be broken?"
Elia looked at the corroded pages—those holes eaten by time at the most sensitive moment of the tale.
"I don't know, Maria... perhaps Time itself erased it so we would guess wrong."
The four stepped out of the tent before sleep, as was their nightly ritual. Jad wanted to log the trip's coordinates, Maria sought a good angle for tomorrow's filming, Elia held the GPS device, and Sima wrapped her scarf tight, contemplating the path.
The night's chill stung them like invisible needles. The forest around them was silent, but it was a natural silence, typical of the deep night. And there, in the distance, rose the Castle.
It was a massive structure piercing the belly of the sky, its five towers rising like the fingers of a giant hand reaching for the heavens. No light within, no movement around it. Only a silent mass of ancient stone.
Jad raised his camera and took a few professional shots. "An interesting building... it resembles the Himyarite castles we studied at university."
Elia looked at his device. "The signals here are very weak... likely due to iron concentrations in the rocks."
Above the highest tower, where the stone ended, a flock of crows suddenly fluttered, circling in black swirls around the peak. Their dry cawing spread through the air like the sound of distant clapping hands.
"Crows usually inhabit abandoned places," Maria said, squinting through the lens. "Their presence is natural... it indicates the area has been devoid of humans for a long time."
Sima shrugged. "So... tomorrow we enter, we film, we record our observations, and we return. Then we publish a report debunking the myths the local villagers whisper about."
Jad tucked the camera into his bag. "That's the goal. Science begins where superstition ends."
The four stared at the castle for a few moments. A lone crow perched on a nearby rock, tilted its head, and peered at them with glinting eyes before flying away.
They returned to the tent. Elia zipped it shut, and Jad wrote in his diary: Night Three, before entering the castle. Atmosphere is calm. Crows are abundant. Easily explainable.
No one looked back. No one saw how the crows suddenly stopped flying, how they clustered on the towers like black fruit, how they all tilted their heads in one single direction.
Toward the tent.
But that didn't happen. For crows are just birds, the castle is just stone, and night is just the absence of the sun.
That is what they believed.
And that, only that, was true... until that very moment.
✧ ─────────────── ✧
POV
"Science seeks an explanation for everything… even when no explanation exists."