Blade owners

After being amazed by the beautiful world, my features gradually shifted to calmness and a bit of coldness. I used to hate judging by appearance; I can't say that this world is truly beautiful.

After what happened with the previous madness tree, this world is extremely dangerous. I must be cautious.

I walked a bit and saw the place I came from. It was a small cave that seemed like it was made to avoid being noticed.

Then, I continued on my way through the forest.

I moved with heavy steps among the giant trees, and everything around me seemed to breathe in a strange, calm manner. The forest was dense, with tree trunks so massive that they seemed like columns holding up the sky. The high leaves blocked most of the light, leaving the place bathed in a strange, intermittent beam of light that seeped through the branches. The sound of birds was unfamiliar, accompanied by the distant echo of the wind's whispers.

I felt an intense dryness in my throat, and I could no longer ignore the increasing thirst with each step. The more I moved, the heavier the thirst became, until I felt that I might find myself unable to move forward. But suddenly, as I pushed aside the tangled branches, I heard a faint sound... the gurgling of water!

I paused for a moment, trying to confirm. The sound grew clearer, like a gentle call inviting me. I quickened my pace, following the sound which got closer with each moment. It didn't take long before I found myself standing before a clear river, its waters shimmering under a strange light coming from above. The river flowed between soft rocks, with dense trees on either side, making it look like a magical path through the heart of the forest.

I approached it carefully and knelt beside it. The water was noticeably cold, and the river's flow was soothing to the ear. I scooped some up with my hand and raised it to my lips. The moment I drank, I felt a gentle coldness spread through my body, as if the water carried something more than just hydration. It tasted pure, but there was something subtle in it that left an imprint, as though it was water from the very depths of this strange land.

I continued drinking eagerly, as if my thirst had doubled the moment the water touched my lips. Each sip carried me farther away from exhaustion and restored my energy. After quenching my thirst, I lifted my head and looked at the river. I saw my reflection in the water, but it seemed strange. I wasn't sure if this river held something magical or if the forest itself had slowly changed me since I entered it.

I stayed by the river for a while, enjoying the sound of the flowing water and the refreshing feeling that returned to my body.

Bassem bent over the river, and his reflection began to appear on the calm water's surface. His features showed signs of exhaustion, but his dark eyes still held the strength that reflected his inner resilience. His eyes were wide, yet they seemed to be lost in thought, as though they carried the weight of endless questions.

His face was sharply defined, with a prominent jaw, giving him a serious and determined appearance. His cheeks were slightly hollow, as if the exhaustion and struggles he had gone through had left their mark. His skin was of medium tone, lit by the reflection of the dancing light from the river, with some fine lines showing the deep thinking that had become his habit.

His black hair was a bit messy from the wind, with strands brushing his forehead randomly. There was a faint gleam on his forehead, perhaps from sweat, or maybe from the strange light reflected from the sky above.

His lips were tight, a thin line that seemed to mix determination and worry. There was a small mark on his chin, perhaps an old scar, bearing the memory of a previous battle or experience that left its trace.

As he stared at his reflection, he noticed something strange in his eyes: an unfamiliar depth, as if they held something beyond just a human appearance. His eyes reflected the complexity inside, a man in struggle with the unknown, yet still standing firm, searching for answers.

Bassem sat on a rock near the river, gazing at his reflection in the water. His hand still gripped the dagger, as if he feared losing it. His thoughts were battling inside his head, and the surrounding calmness was not enough to quiet his inner voice. He took a deep breath and then began speaking to himself in a low voice, as if trying to decode the riddle that had been playing with him from the beginning.

"I'm not stupid... There's something guiding me from the start. Every step, every event, it's as if it was planned beforehand. Why this dagger? Why does it feel like it's part of me?" He stared at the dagger anxiously, pondering its strange shine that hadn't faded since he first held it. "This dagger... it wasn't a coincidence. Why is it with me? Who put it in my way?"

He raised his eyes to the sky filled with strange clouds and said, "And Sheikh Abdullah... why is he helping me? Why does he know so much about me and these things? I never felt he was just an ordinary Sheikh. He always had something hidden behind his words. Did he know that I would end up here? Or was he waiting for me from the start?"

Bassem stood up and began to walk slowly along the riverbank, his hands playing with the dagger as he thought aloud: "Then there's my grandfather... this place, everything here feels connected to him. Did he live here? Does he know this world? Why do his old stories seem more than just tales? Was he trying to tell me something all those years?"

He paused for a moment, then stared at the river and said with confidence: "No... this is not a coincidence. All of this is connected. The dagger, Sheikh Abdullah, my grandfather... this world. It's as if there's a hidden hand pushing me, testing me, or perhaps guiding me to something bigger. But why? And why now?"

He stopped moving, looking around as if the forest itself held the answer he was searching for. "I will discover the truth... all these questions will not remain unanswered. If there is something that wants me to reach here, I will know the reason. And I will not be a puppet in anyone's hands." He clenched his fist around the dagger and made a decision in that moment to control his fate, no matter what challenges he would face.

Bassem walked cautiously through the forest.

Bassem was moving slowly through the forest, his steps careful as he listened to every sound around him. The ground beneath him was covered with a layer of fallen leaves, and each step produced a faint rustling noise. When he reached the edge of a small hill, he paused for a moment and looked down. The scene was sloping but not steep, covered with tall grass and small rocks.

He began to descend slowly, holding onto the surrounding tree trunks to maintain his balance. The wind was gently blowing, carrying with it strange scents—a mix of wildflowers and damp wood. As he neared the bottom of the hill, he noticed something standing out among the dense shadows of the trees.

There was a massive tree standing alone in a small clearing in the forest. Its trunk was remarkably wide, as if it had been there for hundreds of years. Its roots had emerged from the ground like arms, twisting around rocks and extending far out. Its leaves were dense and enormous, casting heavy shadows on the ground around it.

Bassem stood before the tree, gazing at it with a mix of admiration and amazement. "How can a tree grow to such size?" he said to himself, his fingers brushing over the rough bark. The surface was rugged, covered with natural carvings resembling ancient symbols. Then, as if a strange sensation overcame him, Bassem knew that he must climb it.

He began to look around for a way to reach the top. He noticed that the large roots formed what seemed like natural steps, and the strong branches stretched out in a way that was easy to grab. He started by climbing the roots, carefully placing his foot on each one, and as he ascended, he found more branches inviting him to climb higher. It was as if the tree had been designed to be climbed, as though it had been waiting for someone to discover it.

With each step higher, he could feel the wind growing colder, and the light becoming dimmer among the thick leaves. But he continued, driven by an inner sense that he must reach the top. The higher he climbed, the more he could see the forest stretching out to the horizon, as though this tree had witnessed everything in this strange world.

As Bassem climbed the massive branches, which formed natural paths, he suddenly noticed a large opening amidst the dense branches. It appeared to be an entrance to a hidden room within the heart of the tree. He hesitated for a moment but felt a strong curiosity urging him to enter. When he passed through the opening, he found himself in a vast room, something he hadn't imagined could exist inside a tree.

The room was lit by a strange light emanating from the tree trunks themselves, with carvings on the walls glowing faintly. The walls were entirely covered with shelves full of books. These books were not ordinary; most of them had covers made from strange leather, decorated with ancient symbols and carvings that Bassem could not interpret. Some were stacked neatly, while others seemed so old that it appeared no one had touched them for hundreds of years.

Bassem approached one of the shelves, his hand trembling slightly from the awe of the place. A book in the front row caught his attention. It was of medium size, with a black cover decorated with golden threads in the shape of outstretched eagle wings. It seemed as though the book was calling to him to pick it up. On the cover, the title of the book stood out in bold letters: "The Falcon's Grip (First)."

Bassem felt a shiver run through his body, as if this book knew him. "The Falcon's Grip? Why does this name sound familiar?" he wondered aloud. He cautiously extended his hand and pulled the book from its place. When he held it, he felt a strange weight, as though the book was not made from ordinary paper. Its weight carried a sense of importance, like the secrets it contained were of great significance.

He opened the book slowly, and the first pages were completely blank, except for a few words written in golden ink: "To the dagger-bearer, your legacy begins here."

Bassem's eyes widened, and his heart started to beat faster. "My legacy? What does this mean?" He turned to the next page, finding drawings and descriptions of strange places and unfamiliar creatures. With each page he flipped, it felt as if the book was telling a story that had already begun around him. But he wasn't sure if he was just a reader of this story... or its hero.

Bassem stood there, the book in his hands, his eyes filled with countless questions. This book was no ordinary book. It was the key that would lead him to understand everything that had happened so far, and maybe even more.

Bassem sat in the quiet room inside the tree, surrounded by shelves filled with strange books. "The Falcon's Grip (First)" was open in his hands, the pages seeming to come alive under his eyes. As he turned a new page, the ink on the paper began to move, as if the words were being rewritten before him. Suddenly, a faint light emanated from the page, and Bassem felt a slight shiver in the tips of his fingers.

Detailed illustrations appeared before him, as though the book was presenting another world. The first page he paused at had a strange title: "The Djinn: Sons of Fire and Masters of Shadows."

The world of the djinn in Arabic mythology is depicted as parallel to the human world, full of mystery and supernatural powers. According to Arabic and Islamic myths, the djinn were created from smokeless fire, a pure flame with no smoke. The djinn existed long before humans were created, and they lived on Earth first, giving them a deep understanding of the secrets of nature and its wonders.

This world is distinguished by its diversity, much like the human world, with the djinn said to live in tribes and kingdoms, each with its own customs and traditions. Some are peaceful and wise, while others are cunning or hostile. It is said that they dwell in remote, abandoned places that humans dare not enter easily, such as barren deserts, deep caves, and the edges of seas. Sometimes, they hide in places thought to be abandoned, like ruins or beneath towering, majestic trees.

He saw drawings of beings resembling humans, but with clear differences: eyes glowing red or blue, bodies that were either thin or inflated, and wings or extra limbs resembling fire or smoke. Next to the drawings, words appeared written in a strange but understandable script:

"The djinn are not one race, but nations and tribes. Among them are the fiery ones, who dwell in deserts and volcanic mountains; the watery ones, who live in the depths of the seas; and the shadowy ones, who only appear in the darkest of nights. Among them are both good and evil, like humans, but their nature carries a power not to be underestimated."

Bassem felt a shiver run through his body. He whispered to himself, "So, they're not just what I imagined. They are far more complex than we know."

Bassem turned the page, revealing drawings of other creatures, each with a different description:

1. The Ghilan: A picture of a long monster with twisted limbs and glowing green eyes. Underneath it, words described them: "The Ghilan are the inhabitants of ruins, chasing those who enter their lands. They are capable of shapeshifting, appearing as the people closest to your heart to deceive you."

2. The Si'ali: A drawing of a beautiful woman with the upper half of her body, but her feet were like those of a wolf, and her hair flew as if part of the wind. The description under the drawing said: "The Si'ali are cunning predators, using their beauty to lure their victims. But beware of their voice, for it is their tool of control."

3. The Dahmawi: Beings entirely black, with only their eyes glowing white. They appeared as living shadows. The description was strange: "Shadows of the night, you can only see them on moonless nights. They do not speak, but they watch. If you feel the weight of their gaze on you, run immediately."

As he read, the words in the book began to change again, and new text appeared:

"To the dagger bearer, beware... these creatures are not far from you. Some have been following you for a long time, watching your movements and testing your strength. The dagger is not just a weapon, but the key to crossing into their worlds. Handle it wisely, for it attracts them as much as it protects you from them."

Bassem felt a mild headache, as if the book was whispering inside his mind. He briefly raised his eyes and looked around the room. The shelves seemed to move slowly, as if the place was breathing with every word he read. He began to realize that all this information was not here by chance.

He whispered to himself, "This book is not just a book... it's a guide. But it's also a warning."

Bassem slowly closed the book, but he felt the weight of the new knowledge he had gained. Every step he took from now on would be fraught with danger, but he decided that he would not retreat until he discovered the truth, no matter what creatures awaited him in the shadows.

His hand slipped between the books, quickly flipping through them. He was searching for any book that mentioned training methods or ways to develop his skills. As he searched, he felt something strange touch his hand. When he looked, he discovered an ancient book placed in a far corner of the shelf. Its title was "The Blade Cipher."

He took the book into his hands and opened it. The pages were very old, and the smell of paper was rich with the scent of ancient times. On the first page, there was a drawing of a blade engulfed in flames, with mysterious words beneath it speaking of "the power of the blade" and how to acquire it.

"Anyone who wishes to possess the power of the blade must first undergo spiritual training before physical training. No weapon can handle this power unless the seeker possesses the courage of the spirit."

At first, Bassem didn't fully understand what the words meant, but something inside him screamed that he needed to learn it. The book continued:

"The journey of power begins with honest steps, not with physical strength alone, but with faith in one's ability to control. Follow the path and enter the world of the blade."

He carefully closed the book but couldn't shake the thoughts from his mind. "The Fire Blade" held great secrets, and the words he read left him no choice but to search for more. But something else began to form in his mind, something he realized in that moment.

He had been just an ordinary young man, adventuring in a world full of mysterious secrets, and with each discovery, he felt that he needed something more than just knowledge. He needed power. The kind of power that would allow him to face this dark world that had begun to open its doors to him. Perhaps it was time for him to learn how to use the dagger, how to be ready to face the djinn and any other creatures that might come his way.

He stood in the room, the book placed before him, surrounded by shelves full of secrets he wasn't ready for yet. But he felt there was something here that could help him. The room was filled with ancient books, some of which contained deep knowledge about old traditions, martial arts, and spiritual methods. But he needed a training guide. And something inside him was pushing him to find it.

The book spoke of "Principles of Spiritual Balance." The first step was to purify the mind and focus on harmony between the mind and body. He realized that he couldn't just rely on the dagger or weapons; he had to learn how to balance his inner and outer strength.

He began training in the room itself, as it was spacious enough for his movements. He started practicing deep breathing, focusing on his body. He would close his eyes and imagine the energy flowing through him, like the blade awakening within his soul.

Then, he moved on to the second step mentioned in the book: "Freeing the Hands." He had to learn how to control his hand movements and how to grip the dagger. The book spoke of very ancient techniques, used by ancient warriors in the battle of spirit and fire. His hand movements needed to be swift and flexible, as if he were handling a flaming blade. He felt it, as if he possessed a tool that no one else could use except someone with inner strength.