The book remained open.
Golden words glowed softly on the page.
"The first failure was not the last."
Feroz stared at the sentence.
The mark on his arm slowly stopped glowing.
The burning sensation faded.
But the unease remained.
Sameer looked equally confused.
"What does that even mean?"
Feroz shook his head.
"I don't know."
For several moments, neither spoke.
Then the golden words disappeared.
The page became blank again.
The book closed by itself.
Silence returned.
Sameer looked at the closed cover.
"I don't think I'll ever get used to that."
Feroz couldn't argue.
Neither would he.
The next morning—
Feroz woke earlier than usual.
The sun had barely risen.
The village was still quiet.
Most people were asleep.
Yet one question kept bothering him.
Failure.
What failure?
What had Qadir failed to do?
The thought followed him all the way to the Hall.
As expected—
the old man was already awake.
Reading.
Thinking.
Waiting.
Feroz sat down across from him.
"I need answers."
The old man smiled.
"You always do."
"This one's different."
The smile faded.
The old man immediately noticed the seriousness in Feroz's voice.
"What happened?"
Feroz told him everything.
The conversation with Sameer.
The message.
The book.
The mention of Qadir's failure.
When he finished—
the Hall became quiet.
The old man looked troubled.
Very troubled.
"What?"
The old man slowly put his book aside.
"Your father wasn't perfect."
Feroz frowned.
"I know that."
"No."
The old man shook his head.
"You know the story."
A pause.
"You don't know the man."
That answer surprised him.
The old man leaned back.
"When people become legends, others stop seeing their mistakes."
The words settled heavily.
"Qadir made mistakes."
"He made difficult choices."
"And some of those choices had consequences."
Feroz listened carefully.
The old man continued.
"That doesn't mean he was a bad man."
"It means he was human."
For a moment—
Feroz thought about Yusuf.
Haroon.
Younus.
Even Zarqaan.
Every person he had met had made mistakes.
Why should his father be different?
"What kind of mistake?"
The old man hesitated.
Then slowly answered.
"I don't know."
Feroz sighed immediately.
The old man laughed.
"I know, I know."
Another half-answer.
But this one felt genuine.
The old man wasn't hiding anything.
He truly didn't know.
Then his expression became thoughtful.
"There is someone who might know."
Feroz immediately looked up.
"Who?"
The old man stood.
Instead of answering—
he walked toward one of the shelves.
After a moment, he pulled out an old scroll.
Ancient.
Worn.
Fragile.
He carefully opened it.
Names covered the parchment.
Dozens of them.
Maybe hundreds.
Most meant nothing to Feroz.
Until one caught his eye.
Rahim.
The same name again.
The old man pointed at it.
"Before your father arrived..."
A pause.
"...Rahim was the last seeker known to reach places others couldn't."
Feroz stared at the name.
"Then we need to find him."
The old man didn't disagree.
That alone felt important.
Meanwhile—
far from the village—
Haroon stood at the edge of a cliff.
The wind moved through his grey hair.
Below him stretched a vast valley.
Ancient ruins stood scattered across the landscape.
Younus approached from behind.
"Still thinking?"
Haroon smiled slightly.
"Always."
Younus stood beside him.
Neither spoke for a while.
Then Haroon asked:
"Do you think he's okay?"
He didn't need to say the name.
Both knew who he meant.
Feroz.
Younus looked toward the horizon.
"I think he's where he needs to be."
Haroon sighed.
"That's not the same thing."
"No."
Younus nodded.
"It isn't."
Silence followed.
Then Haroon changed the subject.
"Any progress?"
Younus pulled something from his pocket.
An old piece of stone.
Covered in symbols.
Haroon immediately became interested.
"What is it?"
"A direction."
Haroon's eyes widened.
"A way out?"
Younus smiled slightly.
"Maybe."
For the first time in days—
hope appeared.
Small.
But real.
The path back to Feroz might actually exist.
Back in the village—
Feroz was leaving the Hall when he noticed someone waiting outside.
Ayan.
"You're late."
Feroz frowned.
"Late for what?"
Ayan looked confused.
"Did nobody tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
A grin slowly appeared on Ayan's face.
"The trials."
Feroz immediately disliked the sound of that.
"The what?"
Ayan laughed.
"The village trials."
Feroz sighed.
"Why does every place I go have trials?"
Ayan started walking.
"Because apparently the universe enjoys watching you suffer."
For the first time all day—
Feroz laughed.
Then followed him.
Completely unaware that by sunset—
he would face the first true challenge of the Learning Path.