│ ✿ SYNOPSIS ✿ │

╰───╯

Four friends — Jad, Elias, Maria, and Sima —

Bound together by denial.

A journey driven by curiosity, inhabited by disbelief.

The four friends venture into the wilderness of space, toward the mystery of the Abandoned Dhahira Castle, defying the legends of Al-Rasad—tales they dismiss as mere superstition. But one reckless moment shatters the balance of reality. The barrier of time breaks open, revealing the gates to the Other World.

There, where dreams take form and nightmares reign, they find themselves in the grasp of the Lords of Shadows:

Shaddad, Atheela, and Hayman.

A battle for survival begins in a realm that seeks to strip them of their very selves—leaving them as nothing more than echoes trapped forever within the castle walls.

✦ • ✦ • ✦

╭───╮

│ ✿ DEDICATION ✿ │

╰───╯

To those who never settled for seeing the world as it appears…

To those suspended between the logic of reason and the magic of imagination…

To you, who seek the forgotten doors beyond the mist of myths—

I dedicate this crossing.

✦ • ✦ • ✦

From the Author’s Perspective

💭

Logic is the chain we bind our fears with. Truth is not always what our eyes perceive, but what our souls dare to believe. Some think that myths die when we cease to believe in them—yet in truth, they only hide, waiting for a moment of weakness, a cry of denial, or a mirror deliberately shattered… to return and prove to all that the Great Crossing begins with a single step beyond the boundaries of the mind.

.

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

O you who stormed beyond reason’s gate…

╚═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╝

☠️ Let not the clay and stone’s silence deceive you ☠️

╔═━━━✠━━━═╗

For castles are chests you do not know—

╚═━━━✠━━━═╝

⚠️ And the door is a trap for those who come without caution ⚠️

╔══⚔️══╗

You shall see light as shadow in our world,

╚══⚔️══╝

👁️ And become but a phantom to those who see 👁️

...ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ...

...ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ...

Logic crashes against the walls of myth, and the castles bare their stone fangs… The four friends discover that denial was never a shield—it was the very door through which they crossed into a world that does not acknowledge the living. The Prophecy of the Great Crossing: where truth becomes illusion… and shadows reign as masters.

...****************...

This was never just a novel written by pens—it was another crossing… my own crossing into a world I never knew existed until I dared to deny my own boundaries. Four friends carried names of light and shadow, and set out to tell the world that myths are not a lie crafted by the ancients—they are scattered mirrors within the corridors of our souls, seen only when we dare to look.

If you now close these pages and feel that something within you has shifted, or that a wall in your mind has cracked just a little… then know that this was the purpose. For true crossing does not happen only to heroes inside stories—it happens to readers who let the story dwell within them.

If someone asks you one day: what happened in the end? Tell them the end is not here. The castle still stands, the shadows have not yet settled, and the door through which the four friends entered remains ajar… for those who dare.

Thank you for crossing with them… and with me.

༺═══❀═══༻

With all my love,

Viola

༺═══❀═══༻

✧ ─────────────── ✧

The glow of the kerosene lamp cast dancing shadows upon the walls of the tent—shadows like fingers that stretched out to grasp them, then withdrew. Outside, the distant howl of a wolf pierced the silence of Al-Fada Forest, as though whispering to them: "You have not yet arrived… but the road knows you are coming."

Elias sat in the corner, his back against a travel bag, his eyes fixed upon an ancient manuscript that smelled of decay and of time itself. Its cover was of cracked brown leather, its pages yellowed and crumbling at the edges like autumn leaves. He read in silence, his lips moving slowly, then lifted his head abruptly:

"Friends… listen to this legend!"

Sima raised an eyebrow as she wrapped a scarf around her neck: "Another legend? Elias, we came here to debunk the legend, not to read it!"

"This is no ordinary legend… This—" He paused to glance at the cover. "—is a manuscript I found at the antiquary in the old market. It is over two hundred years old."

Jad, who had been reviewing the map by lamplight, looked up with interest. Maria reached out her hand toward the manuscript:

"Let us hear it."

Elias took a deep breath and began to read in a low voice, as though the words feared being heard by unworthy ears:

"In the name of He who created night and day, and made them a sign for those who cross… This is the tale of Dhahira Castle, built by the jinn in three moonlit nights, and inhabited by Shaddad ibn 'Ad the Second, King of Shadows and Keeper of Lost Time…"

Elias paused for a moment, turning the page carefully: "There is a missing part here… the page is eroded." He lifted the manuscript toward the light, trying to decipher the faded remnants of lines:

"…Shaddad knew that all kingdoms perish… all kings die… and he would not accept for his realm the fate of annihilation. So he gathered the sorcerers and the priests… and commanded them to imprison time itself… to imprison the days and nights… in… in…"

He broke off again, lifting his head in frustration: "Illegible… there are more obliterated sections."

He continued reading, his voice growing more grave:

"And when it was done, Shaddad sat upon his throne at the heart of the castle, and time around him stood still as stagnant water. No sun rose nor set, no moon appeared nor vanished. Perpetual shadow… an eternal noontide. And lest any intruder threaten his dominion, he placed upon it a watcher…"

Elias stopped abruptly. His eyes widened as he stared at the word:

"A watcher… what?" Sima asked impatiently. "Go on!"

Elias raised his head slowly: "The Watcher… neither fades nor dies… nor can it be broken…"

"Except!" Maria interrupted, pointing to a word barely visible at the bottom of the page.

Elias brought the manuscript close to his eyes, straining to decipher the eroded letters:

"Except… except by… by de… deni…"

"Denial…" he whispered, as though uttering a forbidden word.

A long silence fell over the tent. Even the wolf's howl paused for a moment.

"Denial of what? Denial of what, exactly?" Jad asked, his voice calm but laced with a deadly curiosity.

"It is not clear… the page is worn away." Elias turned the sheet in disappointment, then added: "There is one final line, below, in a different hand… perhaps someone added it later."

He read slowly:

"And when mortals deny his existence… they think they have freed themselves… yet they… shall become… his crossing."

He finished. Four breaths stopped for a moment.

Then Sima let out a short, tense laugh: "A legend about imprisoning time? And a Watcher that can only be broken by denial? So, by coming here and telling ourselves it is not real—"

Maria shrugged: "If we are the ones who break the Watcher, that means we can enter the castle and leave safely."

Jad gathered his map and gazed toward the opening of the tent. From there, the castle's peak was visible in the distance, a black silhouette beneath the stars: "I did not understand the last line that way." He turned to face them all: "The line said: 'they shall become his crossing'—not their crossing. Meaning we may not be the ones who break the Watcher… but rather, the Watcher is what crosses through us."

A longer silence. Heavy. In it, they could hear the beating of one another's hearts.

Elias closed the manuscript slowly. He looked at his four friends: "Tomorrow morning, we go to the castle. We will photograph it, document everything around it, and return. That was the agreement. We are not here to believe in such nonsense."

Sima stood abruptly: "Fine. That is true."

But Maria remained seated, staring at the manuscript: "Elias… I have a question."

"Yes?"

"The eroded part of the manuscript… what would it have said? What, exactly, is the Watcher that must be broken?"

Elias looked at the decaying pages, at the holes that time had eaten into the most sensitive moments of the tale.

"I do not know, Maria… perhaps time itself erased them so we would guess wrong."

Before sleep, the four stepped out of the tent, as they did every night. Jad wanted to log the journey's events, Maria sought a good angle for tomorrow's photography, Elias carried his GPS device, and Sima wrapped her scarf around her neck, gazing thoughtfully at the path.

The night's cold pricked them like invisible needles. The forest around them was silent, but its silence was natural—like any forest in the depths of night. And there, in the distance, the castle rose.

It was a colossal structure piercing the belly of the sky, its five towers rising like the fingers of a giant hand reaching toward the heavens. No light within, no movement around. Only a silent mass of ancient stone.

Jad raised his camera and took several professional shots: "A fascinating structure… reminiscent of the Himyarite castles we studied at university."

Elias glanced at his device: "The signal is very weak here… probably due to iron deposits in the rock."

At the highest tower, where the stone ended, a flock of crows suddenly took flight, spiraling in dark vortices around the summit. Their dry calls spread through the space like distant applause.

"Crows usually inhabit abandoned places," Maria said, adjusting her lens. "Their presence is natural… it suggests the area has been devoid of human presence for a long time."

Sima shrugged: "So… tomorrow we enter, photograph, record observations, and leave. Then publish a report debunking the myths passed down by the nearby villagers."

Jad placed his camera in his bag: "That is the objective. Science begins where superstition ends."

The four gazed toward the castle for a moment. A lone crow landed on a nearby rock, tilted its head, and stared at them with gleaming eyes—then flew away.

They returned to the tent. Elias zipped the entrance, and Jad wrote in his journal: Third night before entering the castle. Conditions calm. Crows numerous. Easily explicable.

None of them looked back. None saw how the crows suddenly stopped flying, how they clustered upon the towers like black fruit, how they all tilted their heads in the same direction.

Toward the tent.

But this did not happen. For crows are merely birds, the castle merely stones, and night merely the absence of the sun.

This is what they believed.

And this was all that was true… until that moment.

✧ ─────────────── ✧

POV

"Science seeks an explanation for everything…

Even when no explanation exists."

---

✧ THIS CONCLUDES THE OPENING SCENE… ✧

✧ AND FROM HERE BEGINS THE TRUE CROSSING ✧

Four friends… believers in science, mockers of myths… preparing to enter Dhahira Castle.

They do not know that the crows are watching them.

They do not know that the walls await them.

And most importantly… they do not know that denial itself may be the door.

---

✧ How will their entry into the castle unfold?

✧ Will they hold fast to science until the very end?

✧ And what is the secret of the manuscript's erased passage?

---

Horizon for Discussion:

· How do you expect the friends to react upon entering the castle?

· Do you believe time can be imprisoned in a place?

· If you were in Jad and his companions' place, would you continue on, or turn back?

---

✧ Support & Engagement ✧

If you enjoyed the scene:

✅ Upvote this chapter (and do not hold back your thoughts!)

💬 Share your comments… which character caught your attention? Which part sparked your curiosity?

Your support shapes the next chapter!

"For words, too, have their owners… and ideas have their fathers… and the crossing has one who made it before others crossed it."

✨ The legend of Dhahira Castle and the Watcher that can only be broken by denial, along with the concepts of imprisoned time and the crossing into the Other World, are original ideas born from my own inspiration.

✨ Any resemblance in names or events to reality or to other works is purely coincidental and unintentional.

All rights reserved © 2026

#ProphecyOfTheGreatCrossing

༺ ──── ༻

Al-Fada Forest was no less menacing in the morning than it had been by night.

The mist was thick—like hands stretched forth from beneath the earth, reaching for their feet. It coiled around the colossal trunks, rising slowly as though breathing. The dawn sun could not pierce the dense shadow of the trees, whose branches hung like dead ribs.

The group walked with heavy steps. Seven hours had passed since they left camp. Seven hours of wading through tangled roots, crossing shallow streams whose water was black as oil, climbing hills that seemed to recede with every step.

"I am certain we are walking in circles!" Sima said, her voice weary, as she pushed a branch aside from her face. Her white gown, pristine yesterday, was now torn at the hem, stained with mud of unknown origin.

Jad was slightly ahead, his eyes on the old map, its colors fading since they had entered this stretch. The compass in his hand trembled incessantly, as if its needle feared to point in any single direction for too long.

"The compass has not worked for two hours now," Jad said without lifting his eyes from the map. "I have no idea where we are."

Elias had been silent throughout the journey. His leather satchel, containing the manuscript, was strapped to his chest like a child he feared to drop. His eyes never left the surrounding trees.

Then he stopped abruptly.

"Do you hear that?"

Everyone halted. The forest fell silent for a moment. Then they heard it: the gurgle of water unlike any water. A strange sound—like the chiming of tiny bells beneath the earth.

"Water," Maria said, stepping toward the sound with a flicker of hope. "Perhaps a river. Perhaps the castle is near it."

But Jad suddenly seized her arm, his face pale.

"Look… look at the ground."

They looked down. Around their feet, the roots were moving.

Not as if stirred by wind. They moved slowly, very slowly, like the fingers of a sleeping dreamer. They were reaching toward their feet. Toward all their feet.

"Step back slowly," Jad whispered.

But Sima cried out when she felt something coil around her ankle. A root thick as rope was winding about her foot, pulling her toward the earth.

"Elias!" she screamed.

Elias lunged toward her, but stopped when he saw: the root was not merely pulling her. It was drawing something upon her skin. Shapes. Symbols.

Upon her foot, inscribed in letters of faint light, were written:

WHO ENTERS THE LAND OF SHADOWS, LET HIM FORGET HIS NAME

Jad managed to cut the root with his knife, and Sima fell to her knees, gasping. The inscription on her foot did not vanish. It was like a tattoo, glowing faintly beneath her skin.

"What is this?!" Maria whispered, kneeling beside her.

No one answered. But Elias's eyes were on the surrounding trees. On the trunks, where now the same symbols began to appear. Hundreds of symbols. Thousands. As though the entire forest was speaking.

Then they heard the voice.

Not the gurgle of water this time. It was a deep sound, rising from beneath their feet, from among the roots, from the heart of the forest. It spoke in a tongue they did not understand, yet every word echoed in their chests like a slap.

They tried to run, but their legs would not obey. The forest seemed to press upon them from every direction. The air grew heavy. The mist turned into a suffocating gray mass.

Elias was the first to lose consciousness. Then Sima. Then Maria.

Jad remained standing for a few seconds longer, his eyes fixed on a tree before him. Upon its trunk, there was an empty space amid the symbols—a space carved as if specifically prepared for something to be written upon it.

As he fell to the ground, with the last remnants of his awareness, he saw letters forming upon that trunk. Forming from the mist itself. Writing something. Something with his name.

---

Elias awoke to a bitter cold lashing his face.

He lay sprawled upon stones. The sky above was gray, but it was not the sky of the forest. It was open. Vast. Pierced by jagged rocks like the teeth of a beast.

He rose with difficulty. His entire body ached. When he looked around, he saw:

Jad, Sima, and Maria lay beside him upon the same stones. The forest was gone. Entirely vanished. There was nothing now but a rocky plain stretching out, and at its end… the castle.

He had not imagined it like this.

It was black. Entirely black. Its walls were of gleaming basalt, as though perpetually wet. The towers were twisted—not straight—as if they had grown from the earth rather than been built. The ramparts were so high that their necks ached just to look upon their peaks.

"This is it," Elias whispered. "Dhahira Castle."

The others awoke one by one. Sima looked at her foot. The inscription remained. The glow had faded, but the letters were still etched beneath her skin like an old scar.

"Where are we?" Maria asked, her voice hoarse.

"Before it," Jad said, gesturing toward the castle. Then he added in a hushed tone: "We crossed the forest. Or… it crossed us."

They walked toward the castle in silence. There was no longer a path. No longer any trees. There was nothing but stone and the castle, which grew larger with every step, until it seemed to swallow the entire sky.

When they reached the outer wall, they halted.

It was enormous—no less than thirty meters high. The iron gate was closed, massive, its handle shaped like a wolf's head with jaws agape. But that was not what made their blood run cold.

It was what was upon the wall.

On the stone of the outer rampart, directly above the gate, were carved words. Not raised—sunken into the stone, as though written with a giant's nail. The letters were ancient, yet clear. As if they had been carved to be read.

Elias read them aloud, each word weighing upon his chest:

O you who stormed beyond reason's gate,

Let not the silence of clay and stone deceive.

For castles are chests you do not know—

And the door is a trap for those who come without caution.

You shall see light as shadow in our world,

And become but a phantom to those who see.

A long silence.

Maria stared at the words as if she had read them before. Sima gripped Elias's arm tightly. Jad looked at the door, then at the verses, then at the door once more.

"They warned us," Jad said, his voice rough. "The legend warned us before we arrived."

"Or…" Elias said after a moment of silence, his eyes not leaving the words. "Perhaps… this is the warning itself. Perhaps this castle does not want us to enter. Perhaps it fears something within us."

"What do you mean?" Maria asked.

Elias did not answer. He approached the gate, placed his palm upon the cold stone. At his touch, he felt something strange: the stone was not merely cold. It was beating.

One faint beat. But it was there.

"The castle is alive," he whispered.

Then, only then, they heard the footsteps.

From within the gate. Heavy steps, slow, deliberate. Approaching. Approaching. Then they stopped just behind the iron.

And they heard a voice. Not from beyond the door. But in their heads. In their chests. In their bones.

"Who… are you?"

No one answered.

The voice returned, this time stronger, as if passing through them rather than through the gate:

"No one has come to this gate since… I do not recall. Since time that is no longer remembered."

The voice paused. Then they heard something like laughter. But it was not laughter. It was a creaking. The creak of stone attempting to laugh.

"Read what is written. Then decide. Are you crossers… or are you… the crossing?"

A silence of dread settled upon them.

Upon the wall, the verses began to glow with a faint light. As if awaiting an answer.

---

End of Chapter One

╭───╮

│ ✿ │

╰───╯

The gate pulses… behind it, something waits.

It asked them: "Are you crossers… or are you the crossing?"

What do you think? What does it mean?

🗳️ Vote \= You are with me on this journey

💬 Comment \= Let us solve the riddle together

🔖 Library \= Do not miss what comes next

✦ • ✦ • ✦

© All rights reserved to the author | missareejgirly

This is a work of pure fiction, and any resemblance to names or other works is purely coincidental.

No part of this story may be copied or republished without the author's permission.