Chapter 1
The gorge was sunny. A fine day with a warm breeze rustled the branches of sparse trees, sometimes carrying leaves away. Through the riot of nature and green undergrowth, through mighty and ancient roots, barely perceptible skeletons of foundations and man-made structures of a once-thriving civilization broke through. The air, once saturated with chemical vapors and waste from the benefits of ancient humanity, was now completely cleansed and replenished with energetic, miraculous waves of ether, with the help of which it was possible to create life. Life that gradually changed not only the entire continent, but also the planet, displacing the originality of the ancient inhabitant from it and recreating something new and raging from an excess of cosmic energy. Water from all the nearby mountains and foothills flowed here, where it ended its journey, falling from a great height into a huge crater several kilometers in diameter. The waters from these riverbeds and streams, falling from a height of hundreds of meters, created an incredible roar, accompanied by mists of spray and iridescent reflections. The monotony was broken by the chirping of birds, disturbed by the intrusion of a stranger into their nesting place. It seemed that nothing could disturb the idyll of this beautiful and dangerous region, once the place of residence of ancient inhabitants, and now the center of residence and domination of the inhabitants of the wild animal world called "Toshdarra".
Suddenly, the measured life of the inhabitants of the gorge was disturbed by the stomping of a running man. It was a young man of about twenty in black robes. He was quite seriously wounded and it was felt that running caused him pain. He was being pursued. Two dozen people in blue robes were catching up with him. The whole company was moving towards the waterfall. The guy in black robes, whose name was Zuhair, realized that he was being driven to the abyss and pulled out his saber. Energetic force swirled around the hilt of the weapon in his hands. It seemed that he began to suck this energy from the air. But the level of the energy aura was unstable. The wounds made themselves felt. Zuhair was very weakened and still ready to go to the end, and was not going to give his life cheaply. It was necessary to save the Manuscript at any cost and not allow the pursuers to capture it.
--- Surrender, Zuhair! You're doomed anyway! Give the Manuscript and maybe I'll give you a quick death without torment! - shouted the leader of the warriors in blue and released his bloodthirsty aura. Because of this, the ground under his feet began to crack.
-- Orhan, you vile traitor. The one I considered a friend for so many years... I'll take your life at the cost of my life, and you won't get the Manuscript... - Zuhair replied calmly.
The Manuscript, which was considered lost almost ten thousand years ago and which almost all the madhhabs of the continent had been searching for so long, chose him. It chose him. In the ancient ruins, where a great civilization once flourished and where many factions and representatives of various clans had already dug up the entire space of the ruins in search of artifacts and could not even get close to an iota of information about the Manuscript. The Manuscript of the Ancestors, as it was called, was believed to contain the Truth, according to some, the Meaning of Being or even the Meaning of Life. But no one could even imagine that the manuscript exists only in spiritual form. Having strong energy for centuries, withered and lost its physical form, it could only be preserved in its sea of consciousness. Finding the Manuscript was considered the greatest success, and not everyone had a chance to do so, and such a chance was given once in a lifetime. Zuhair was lucky. In search of artifacts, he came across an energy clot and managed to recognize in it the very miracle. The owner of this treasure instantly became the target of almost all the powerful of this world. Brother could go against brother, friend could go against friend, and even cities could be wiped off the face of the earth for the sake of the Manuscript.
Zuhair released his most brutal aura, putting the remnants of his strength into his last blow. But the enemy was not alone.
--- Create the Qayum sign! - Orhan shouted to his associates.
Orhan's associates were combat Sagibs of the second and third kadam.
Boom.! Boom..! The space seethed, and the rocks above the gorge began to crumble under the pressure of the energy sign created by the warriors. Zuhair's saber strike was repelled by the Qayum sign. Impotence and severe bleeding led to a decline in strength.
"Am I going to die now," Zuhair thought. The recoil from the blow tore the meridians of the body and the soul began to deplete. "Whatever it is, the Manuscript should not fall into the hands of this scumbag," the guy thought and began to retreat to the edge of the abyss.
--- Hold him, he's going to jump! - Orhan shouted, but it was too late. Zuhair closed his eyes and stepped into the abyss.
First there was darkness. He tried to feel his body. With the power of thought, he began to scan all his limbs and meridians. His strength increased, and the aura was stable. At the same time, he understood that he was in spiritual form. Is this death? Is that how it manifests itself? Or is he still alive. Zuhair lost track of time and could not understand how long he had been here. Maybe a year or a couple of days. He was in a kind of space, in a vacuum consisting of emptiness. He was not lying, not standing, but as if floating in a whirlpool of passive flow. There were no wounds on his spiritual body, the feeling of pain was gone. Zuhair tried to remember all the last moments of memory. He remembered the gorge, remembered Orhan.
Orhan, once a friend, family and the only person he trusted, betrayed him. Betrayed without conscience or regret for the sake of the Manuscript. The Manuscript... he tried to feel the energy of the Manuscript in the sea of mind. The Manuscript was in his sea of consciousness, but this time it was in the color of flame and its aura exuded incredible power. It was a huge ball consisting of fiery threads. Like a burning ball, it slowly rotated in space, exuding energy. And a man came out of this source of power. He was old. His silver hair and his outlines exuded a gentle fiery light. And he suddenly spoke:
--- Ten thousand years have passed since the civilization of ancient people fell. The greed and stupidity of the ancient rulers outweighed the wisdom of the ages and led to a brutal war. And the war led to a catastrophe. The truth was lost. And in the future, what people began to perceive as Truth was distorted and conveyed incorrectly.
The old man spoke without opening his mouth, but the guy heard every word clearly and distinctly. It seemed that the old man's speech sounded in his head, filling his consciousness.
--- Who are you? - Zuhair asked.
--- I was once called M. But I am not him, I am only a part of his soul. I have lived in the Manuscript for many centuries, waiting for someone to whom I can pass on the heritage and wisdom of the ancestors.
--- What does the Truth you are talking about mean?
--- In the beginning of everything, the Truth appeared. Its purest manifestation. But over the centuries, people who were supposed to maintain the purity of its communication to the souls of people began to distort it to suit their own purposes. Over time, the Manuscript began to be copied, and with each copy it became more and more distorted and lost its former purity. The people who ruled the nations each added a grain of lies from themselves, which brought a grain of profit. And the day came when the difference between Truth and Distortion increased so much that it created a catastrophe from which the ancient world of people fell. Another war is coming, and only a person strong in spirit, determination and wisdom can prevent this catastrophe. I hope I didn't make a mistake in my choice, - the old man finished his monologue.
--- Why didn't you show yourself earlier, venerable one, and where am I now? - Zuhair asked.