The first threads of dawn crept into the sky, weaving shades of golden yellow and silver, heralding the arrival of morning. Soheib felt a profound relief—not because the day had broken, but because that enormous creature that had crouched on his chest all night, the one called the moon, had vanished as if it were smoke. He had feared it might strike at any moment, and he exhaled deeply as its weight lifted.
He continued walking, melancholy clinging to him, as memories of Earth returned. He recalled the dozens of jobs he had applied for, armed with a good degree and broad knowledge, only to be rejected time and again, until hope had withered away and he was led down a path that brought him to this mysterious world.
He sighed.
Lost in thought, his gaze fell upon a strangely shaped building—a circular structure unlike anything around it, glowing like a ring of light. Curiosity compelled him to enter, and a chill immediately ran through his soul, the shock of discovery rendering him momentarily breathless. The place seemed otherworldly: soft green walls radiated a luminous glow, as if carved from a colossal emerald, reflecting a shine akin to polished jade under sunlight.
At the center, towering trees spread their canopies, as though a fragment of a celestial forest had fallen here in one miraculous descent.
He had not noticed the girl standing nearby, silently observing him.
Lost in the breathtaking scene before him, he suddenly heard footsteps and turned.
Tap tap… tap tap… The rhythm of her steps echoed across the floor, each one carrying calm assurance, as if each stride held quiet confidence.
She smiled and spoke gently:
– How are you, sir? How may I assist you?
She was a young woman in the prime of youth, wearing circular earrings, her forehead broad, brown hair cascading over her shoulders. Her wide hazel eyes were framed by dark kohl, adding depth, and her face radiated a delicate smile, marked by grace and beauty.
Yet, upon hearing her voice, Soheib realized his first impression had been wrong; her confident tone and wide smile revealed a sociable nature, with an insatiable curiosity glimmering in her eyes.
He stammered, astonishment written across his face:
– My name is Soheib. I… I come from the south… and I'm looking for work.
The girl laughed softly:
– I'm Hind, the receptionist here. And lucky for you, we have vacant positions. Please, have a seat, and I'll notify the manager immediately.
He sat silently, turning the scene over in his mind, whispering a small smile and thinking how remarkable she seemed…
After a few moments of quiet, she opened the door and gestured for him to enter. A faint creak accompanied the movement, and the gap widened enough for him to pass through.
He was a man of roughly middle age, sitting with a poised balance, one leg crossed over the other, his dark skin radiating a mysterious warmth. His eyes, calm yet sharp with intelligence, held secrets revealed only to those deemed worthy. A straight nose lent his features a stately air, and his short hair was meticulously groomed, each strand seemingly chosen to complete the image of a commanding figure. He gestured for Soheib to sit, then spoke in a low but confident voice:
— You may call me "Muawiyah." We are not an ordinary company… we are guardians. Our task is to maintain security and confront looming threats.
He paused briefly, a faint smile touching his lips, adding to the air of charm and enigma, then said:
— Soheib…
A strange sensation swept over me, as if this were an opportunity for altruism, though my heart was unaccustomed to giving without expectation. I asked quietly:
— At the very least… do you provide food… or shelter?
He smiled faintly, as if anticipating the question:
— Do not worry. You will have a fixed monthly salary, enough for lodging and meals, perhaps even more.
Soheib smiled and replied:
— Then I agree.
Suddenly, Muawiyah's expression shifted; he became stern, and the sparkle that had danced in his eyes moments before vanished. In a low, grave tone, he said:
— Wait… what I am about to tell you may make you reconsider your words.
He fell silent abruptly, glancing to his right. Slowly, he extended his hand and withdrew a long-stemmed pipe from the inner pocket of his coat, along with a small paper pouch containing brown tobacco. He took a small pinch in his hand, then rubbed it gently between his fingers, as though attempting to awaken a sleeping spirit within the grains. Afterward, he placed it in the bowl of the pipe, adding a larger quantity until it was nearly full.
He held it carefully in his palm, bringing the pipe close to his aquiline nose. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the aroma for thirty long seconds, as though summoning a long-forgotten memory from the depths of time. Then, I saw the stern lines of his face slowly relax, and a faint smile formed, his voice trembling with a mixture of sorrow and pain:
> "I remember their faces… all of them."
He then set the pipe gently upon his wooden desk and bowed his head toward the ground for a full minute, as though listening to a voice only he could hear.
Afterward, he turned to Soheib and spoke in a low tone that seemed to test the silence itself:
> "We are guardians, not servants of the Temple.
Remember that well.
And know this—if you wish to become a guardian whose power surpasses that of ordinary men, you must undergo certain rites.
Through them, a force will be planted deep within your body and soul, driving you to transcend human limits."
He paused for a moment, his voice shifting, as if recalling an ancient dread:
> "But… there is what the priests call the Moment of Reflection.
It is that instant when the receiver realizes that he no longer controls the power—
the power is what begins to test him.
Then the true dangers emerge, one after another.
And if you fail to face them properly, you die… but not a quiet death.
You suffer reversals—strange symptoms manifest—as though the very power you gained begins devouring you, piece by piece, until it consumes and erases you.
At that point, no one can help you… nor even kill you to spare you from its torment.
It happens often—during the moment of reception—so be cautious in your choice."
Muawiyah inhaled deeply and exhaled once, as if casting off the weight of a chain of stones that had long pressed upon his chest.
He said all this calmly—each word etched into the air like a carving in stone.
Then he continued, his voice drifting through the room like a cold breeze:
> "There are other moments recorded…
when it overtakes you suddenly in battle,
a result of losing control.
The cause remains unknown.
And remember—once you choose your path, it cannot be altered.
To attempt it risks confusion that may awaken the original force itself."
Just then, a faint sound broke the stillness: tok… tok… tok…
Hind entered, carrying a tray with a glass of water and a small clay brazier, from which aromatic smoke rose and filled the room. She placed the tray down softly and withdrew, vanishing like a passing breeze—
as if she had never existed at all.
Muawiyah poured the coffee and said,
— Please, have some.
Soheib reached out, took the cup, and sipped lightly. The taste filled his chest—rich, sharp, awakening the senses. He swallowed slowly.
My heart trembled as I remembered those dangers.
Was it fear itself I felt—or the echo of truth awakening within me?
For a moment, my limbs nearly betrayed me,
but I quickly gathered myself, as one waking from a strange slumber.
I recalled the stories I once loved,
the courage that breathed through their heroes, seeping into me with every line.
Yet whatever fleeting thrill took hold of me, I suppressed it;
for I knew this moment allowed no hesitation—
only a resolve that felt carved by destiny itself.
Muawiyah spoke at last, quietly, like one delivering a verdict:
> "That's enough. Go now—think. Then return tomorrow… if you still wish to proceed."
Soheib sat in silence.
Thoughts crowded his mind like shadows trading places with the light.
He pictured the road ahead—cold, endless, waiting to swallow him whole should he step outside.
Perhaps even a slow death on the sidewalk, starved and forgotten.
But if I refuse, he thought, I'll remain a prisoner of this gloomy world, trapped between fear and defeat without end.
He lifted his eyes toward the ceiling.
A strange thought leapt into his mind—
Great risks often carry great rewards.
A faint smile of resolve curved his lips, and in a voice that filled the room with an echo, he declared:
> "Were it not for hardship, all men would reign—
Generosity brings poverty, and courage leads to death."
Then he added firmly,
— I accept… Commander.
Muawiyah smiled faintly, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
— Then from this day forward, you are one of us… a Guardian.
He drew out a thick scroll—twenty pale yellow papyrus sheets filled with ornate writing—and said:
— You only need the Commander's seal and your signature.
Soheib felt a strange unease; the papyrus seemed ancient, out of place.
"Wasn't papyrus the craft of the pharaohs?" he wondered silently.
Still, he sighed and signed his name. Muawiyah stamped the seal and placed the document beside two other rolls.
From the drawer, Muawiyah produced another paper and handed it to him.
— Give this to Hind.
Soheib thought to himself, He must have sensed my situation… this must be my advance payment.
Muawiyah's tone softened but remained firm:
— Go now. Come back tomorrow—after dawn.
Soheib left the office, walking down a long corridor until he reached Hind's desk.
He handed her the slip, feeling a quiet joy stir within him.
But, as always in reception halls, curiosity shimmered in the air. Hind leaned forward with a cheerful tone:
— Soheib! What happened?
He scratched his head, smiling sheepishly.
— I've been accepted. I'll return tomorrow, right after dawn.
Her face lit up.
— You've made us all happy by joining!
She then stepped toward a side room—a narrow door almost invisible, blending into the wall like part of the company's architecture.
She pushed it open softly and disappeared.
A few moments later, she returned carrying a small pouch. Inside were two golden coins and eight silver ones, stamped with the emblem of a sun and a falcon's eye.
He muttered,
— The same symbol I saw on the man's uniform…
Closing his hand around the coins, he smiled and said,
— Until tomorrow.
He turned to leave—but after a few steps, stopped, and returned toward her. Clearing his throat softly, he waited.
Hind looked up from the newspaper she'd resumed reading and smiled.
— I'd like your advice on something… I'm new here, and I don't know where to rent a place.
She replied warmly,
— Of course. Since you haven't received your allowance or bonus yet, I'll show you some nearby areas that suit your income.
He nodded appreciatively.
— That's exactly what I need.
She added gently,
— Avoid the houses facing the main road. Look behind the company—through the narrow alleys. You'll find decent rooms there, at fair prices.
He thanked her with a quiet smile of gratitude and walked away.