Though Petrus and Linda held on to certain superstitions and misguided traditions, the seeds of goodness within their nature had guided them in raising Abraham according to his own temperament. They nurtured in him not only a sense of responsibility toward himself but also toward his family and community. And they never stifled his innate desire to create and to discover; on the contrary, they encouraged it.

Naturally, they did all they could—through gentle counsel—to shield him from the wrath of the Lord. From infancy, Abraham had wanted to touch everything, to explore everything. As a child, he filled the house with curious questions, and they answered each one with patience.

Unknowingly, they were practicing what would one day be called modern education. The combination of proper upbringing and sincere prayer had endowed Abraham with remarkable discernment. He could see clearly that the Lord was a tyrant, hiding machinations of his own, and that strange, secretive events were unfolding across the island.

Most importantly, he sensed that although the islanders had so far tolerated their conditions without open complaint, the new generation would not so easily accept injustice. Unless sound, measured efforts were made, Abraham feared that the Lord might unleash upon them a violence he had never before dared to show.

Thus, he devised plans—plans to guide his people toward a brighter understanding with the least possible harm.
Yet he was not the only one planning. Providence, in its mysterious design, was weaving new harmony into events, drawing together the righteous of distant worlds so that they might unite beneath a single roof of goodness.

Abraham and Mark slipped quietly through the reeds in the darkness of night, stepping onto the island from the forbidden western forest. Their first task was to hide the boat where no one could possibly see it. Once they covered it with leaves, grass, and brush and felt certain it was concealed, they hurried home before the pitch-black night settled in.

Both boys were scolded by their parents, who had been anxiously awaiting their return.

Abraham, having foreseen the trouble he would face, had already prepared an excuse:

“I told you yesterday,” he would say, “that I was going to Mark’s, and that we would be working on something together.”

His mother, with her brows knitted in frustration, replied:

“That does not give you the right to stay out all night and return the next evening in the dead of night. What kind of foolish excuse is that!”

At that moment, Abraham thought to himself:
It is still a far more reasonable explanation than telling her I went to the forbidden Outer Isle, saw a towering column rising into the heavens, looked down into a massive pit swarming with turtles, and heard frightening roars from mysterious creatures.

And since he truly had spent much of the journey deep in thought about the tower, he consoled himself with the idea that he had not lied—at least not entirely.

Believing he had escaped with nothing more than a scolding, Abraham relaxed—until Linda, in the firm tone of a strict mother, continued:

“And you told your father you would take care of those dry branches and firewood, yet you left everything scattered and walked off!”

Then, with the decisiveness of a judge delivering a verdict, she went on:

“You know we do not believe in punishment, but lately you have pushed our patience to its limits. Finish the task you left unfinished today, and if you wish, you may call your partner in crime as well. And don’t think I don’t know you dragged that innocent bird into your schemes!”

As if understanding every word, Abraham’s dove perched silently on a branch, waiting motionless until Linda walked away. Only then did it flutter its wings and land upon its master’s shoulder. Abraham glanced around as though meeting with a secret informant, winked at the bird, and tied his written message to its leg.

When Mark saw the feathered messenger arriving, he muttered:

“I’m not going to that island—no way.”

Abraham had predicted his friend’s reaction perfectly:

“Relax, we won’t get ourselves into trouble. Just come over—we’ll chop the wood and talk about what happened yesterday.”

Mark was of a free-spirited nature. Crowds and rules made him feel trapped, and he was already searching for an excuse to leave the house. He met Abraham in the forest, but suddenly felt unsteady on his feet. At first he thought he had fallen ill, but then, from the terrified screeching of the birds above them, he understood that the ground itself was trembling.

Seeing the anxiety in his friend’s eyes, Abraham said:

“Calm down, it’s only an earthquake. Their frequency and strength have been increasing lately. I don’t know why, but it might be a sign of something bad. If it grows any stronger, it could even bring the houses down,” Abraham said, pointing toward the peak of the island’s highest mountain. He continued:

“You know an earthquake is often a precursor to a volcanic eruption. Since this lake is a crater lake, such an eruption must have happened here long ago. That’s why I don’t think it will happen again. I believe a volcanic eruption somewhere nearby is what we’re feeling.”

“Are you sure it can’t happen in the same place again?”

Abraham tilted his head slightly.
“Of course I’m not. It’s just my guess—or perhaps my hope—so I interpret it that way.”

Linda and Petrus, like the others on the island, were worried about their son. Though they had scolded Abraham moments earlier and knew the quake hadn’t caused any real damage, they feared a dead tree might have toppled onto him. They rushed out to see him.

Despite being a good mother, Linda made mistakes like any parent. Instead of going to her son and telling him how much she loved him, how she had feared for him during the tremor, she chose to watch him from a distance, unwilling to lose her sense of authority.

She turned to Petrus and said:

“I get angry with Abraham only because I love him so deeply. And he loves us just as much. Still…” Linda’s voice trembled. “I just wish Odessa hadn’t died—or been killed. I wish she had lived to see these days. Believe me, Abraham is as compassionate as he is intelligent. Even if Odessa were alive, his love for us would never have diminished.”

Petrus cut her off in a whisper.
“Walls have ears. Speaking of the past helps no one. And if Lord suspects that people might believe what she said because of us… he might not only harm her memory, he might kill us as well. The past is not a shield for us—it could be the very reason we’re executed.”

Abraham was chopping dead trees, gathering the pieces, and loading them onto the crude wheelbarrow. Suddenly Mark stopped working and stared toward the lake. Abraham frowned.

“Tired already?” he said reproachfully.

Mark didn’t answer. Instead, he pointed.
“Look… coming out of the lake. Is that… a mermaid? Like in the old tales?”

“You must have breathed in the smoke of that strange herb again. Your hallucinations are becoming frequent. Now, if you told me a lake monster crawled out, that I might believe,” Abraham replied, slamming his axe into a tree trunk.

“She looks as pure as an angel cast out of heaven,” Mark said, still fixated on the shoreline.

Abraham stopped working and turned to him. From Mark’s expression, he realized his friend was not joking.

When he turned toward the lake, Abraham understood that Mark was not hallucinating.

Lying face-down on the shore was a girl as if born from the very tales they had heard—fair-skinned with a white, luminous complexion, golden hair, a delicate nose, and pearl-like teeth. Yet unlike the mermaids of legend, her legs and feet were perfectly human. The shimmering white fabric that stretched from her knees to her head was clearly her dress. And from the way it clung to her, drenched and heavy, it was obvious she had come straight out of the lake.

The two young explorers were torn: part of them wanted to help this innocent-looking girl, yet another part wondered whether her disarming beauty hid something demonic—a trap set by unseen forces. After all, this side of the island was the closest to the infamous Land of Qabil, and the direction in which the girl lay suggested she might have come from that cursed place.

The fact that she hadn’t moved at all made them think she might truly need help. They also wondered whether her appearance had anything to do with the earthquake moments earlier.

Fortunately, her fingers twitched faintly, proving she was alive. Summoning their courage, they approached her. Abraham touched her face, trying to determine whether she was truly human. When he noticed Mark’s hand hovering uncertainly beside him, he slapped it away. Mark understood from Abraham’s expression exactly what he meant.

“I just wanted to check if she was human…” he protested.

The blonde girl struggled to open her eyes, but she managed. As she began coughing and expelling the water from her mouth, Abraham realized she didn’t need chest compressions or artificial respiration. Strangely enough, she lifted her head as if she had already guessed what was happening and looked around with a where am I? expression.

Mark assumed the girl was a foreigner and would not understand their language. Like some people do, he thought shouting would somehow solve the problem.

“Do you understand our language? Where did you come from, who are you, what are you?” he yelled.

The girl shot Mark a sharp glare and snapped:

“First of all, keep that filthy mouth away from me before I get sick to my stomach! Second, I’m not deaf. Third, as you can see, I do know your language. And fourth, I’m not from here.”

Mark whispered to his friend:

“She’s not an angel—she’s a demon. Let’s send her back.”

Abraham asked:

“What’s your name?”

“Odessa.”

“We’ve never heard that name before. What are you doing here? And the people on the island…” Abraham hadn’t finished his sentence, but Odessa understood what he meant.

“Yes, I’ve heard the same things—that, just like the people where I come from believe, those on this island aren’t normal humans at all, that they are ugly, ill-tempered creatures punished by God. And judging by the way you’re looking at me, it seems you hold similar prejudices about us.”

“How do you know that?”

“People always form ill-natured assumptions about things they’ve never seen; their minds create all sorts of baseless judgments,” she said, then pointed at their faces. “It’s written all over your expressions. You’re staring at me as if I were some kind of monster.”

Then turning to Mark, she added:

“But this friend of yours isn’t even looking at my face—he’s looking at… other places. Honestly, it frightens me. He looks as if he’s about to eat me alive!”

Mark noticed the way Abraham glanced at him—as if agreeing with the girl—and he whispered:

“Slander! I told you, she’s some sort of demon.”

“Will you help me?” Odessa said. “I lost my balance during the earthquake and fell into the lake. My little boat drifted away. And when water got into my throat, I became disoriented and ended up here.”

Abraham said,
“That’s impossible. We don’t go to that island. We don’t even go near it.”
Yet from his tone it was clear that, despite himself, a faint curiosity was beginning to take hold.

Odessa thought she might have to stay here for a while—perhaps long enough to convince these two young men. She began describing life on her own island: how people lived in comfort and abundance, how all their needs were met by those who governed, how they resided in spacious, well-built homes; how everyone enjoyed equal rights and had equal opportunities; how each person was free to follow any faith they wished, to worship openly, and to live their beliefs without fear.

Abraham and Mark listened with their mouths half open. With every sentence she spoke, they wondered whether they had misheard—could such a place truly exist so close to them? A place where all these blessings existed together?

Unable to hold back any longer, Abraham asked:
“We didn’t misunderstand you, did we? You choose your leader by election, and he neither interferes with your beliefs nor takes a share of your harvest through heavy taxes. He has the same rights as you—am I hearing this correctly?”

“Of course,” Odessa replied. “In fact, those who oppose the elected president can openly criticize him, even make jokes about him. In our view, human beings are not sacred; they can make mistakes.”

Mark then asked:
“So… are there no people who have turned themselves into gods?”

The girl had spoken quite sensibly until now, yet the fact that she did not respond to Mark’s question with something like “What kind of nonsense is that?” struck Abraham as contradictory. Still, he thought she simply didn’t deem such a remark worth answering.

Abraham asked:

“So how do you obtain the timber and other materials needed for such large houses?”

Odessa had done her homework well. Though the question caught her off guard for a moment, she quickly used her cunning to cover the slip.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, then continued:

“Don’t tell me you truly have no knowledge of the outside world! Don’t tell me you actually believe there are no other people on earth besides yourselves! Surely you’re not still falling for such tales in this day and age.”

She rubbed her thumb, index, and middle fingers together sharply, as if trying to recall something, then said:

“Ah, now I remember—the myth about the whole world being submerged under water… Is that the one you believe? And you think you’re the only survivors?”

Mark cut in with a grin:

“Of course. And if there are any others alive out there, our job is to protect them from people like you.”

Odessa nodded in agreement with Mark.
Abraham, however, had noticed certain contradictions in the girl’s words. Only moments ago, she had claimed they regarded the people of this island as descendants of Qabil; yet now she spoke of the story of Qabil and the Flood of Noah as if they were ancient myths, adopting a completely different tone. From the look in Abraham’s eyes, Odessa realized he had begun to grow suspicious.
She also sensed that some of what she had said had unsettled him. Silently, she cautioned herself:

“Stay calm. Don’t dive straight into these subjects. Speak in broader, vaguer terms. For now, creating this much doubt and uncertainty in their minds is enough.”

To draw Abraham’s attention elsewhere, she asked:

 “Have you ever heard of steamships?”

Abraham shook his head. Mark, on the other hand, made a foolish remark merely for the sake of speaking to Odessa.

“So… do they float around like steam in the air or what?”

Odessa was both beautiful and proud. She cast a dismissive glance at Mark first, then turned to Abraham.

“And you call yourself a man of science? You don’t even know this. Steamships have enormous boilers—wood is burned to heat the water, and the power of the steam that rises drives the ship forward. They can travel swiftly even when there is no wind at all.”

Normally, anything involving steam-powered ships would have captured Abraham’s curiosity, but at that moment he couldn’t even think about such things.

How does this girl know I’m interested in inventions? he wondered. Why is she speaking as if she already knows me?

“We transport all sorts of materials from the outside world with these ships,” Odessa continued. “And with the alchemists’ devoted efforts, we’ve made many new discoveries and prospered.”

Mark grinned at Abraham.
“See? They’ve progressed thanks to the alchemists,” he said, then lowered his voice.
“I take it back—she’s not a demon. She’s an enlightened soul who speaks the truth.”

Pointing at Abraham, the girl said, “My monotheist friend, I have a question for you.”
Before she could continue, Abraham interrupted:

“Where did you get that idea? I’m starting to think you knew me beforehand.”

“How could I know you?” Odessa replied calmly. “Your friend reacted the moment alchemists were mentioned, but you stayed silent. People are either monotheists or, like the alchemists, polytheists.”

This time Mark jumped in:

“No, alchemists don’t have a standard belief system. Please don’t misrepresent them.”

Abraham felt that the girl’s explanation made sense and decided, for now, not to dwell on the questions forming in his mind.
Odessa cleared her throat. “May I finish my question?” she asked, and went on.

“If only God knows the future and reveals certain things to the chosen among His servants, then what do you make of the soothsayers and sorcerers who speak about events yet to come? Some of these people have no connection whatsoever to belief in God. So how can we explain the predictions of fortune-tellers that later turn out to be true?”

From the depth of the question, Abraham understood that the girl was no simple-minded stranger.
Odessa brushed her hand lightly through the air, as if sweeping dust aside, giving the clear message that she expected an answer worthy of him, then said:

“You can find the answer by researching a little, and thinking a little. I’ll tell you only a part of it. Never forget this: the God who owns the universe is also the Lord of the soothsayer, the alchemist, the scholar, the unbeliever, and the idol worshipper alike. And His revelations make it clear that He treats all His servants equally in this world. That is, anyone who studies, strives, and seeks knowledge is granted access to the treasures of knowledge, and likewise to the treasures of wealth and property.

If it weren’t so, only those who believe in God would possess knowledge—but you know well how many fortune-tellers there are who do not believe. Anyone who performs certain spiritual rituals can make contact with metaphysical beings,” she said, and then made sure not to forget to add:

“Make sure your friend here doesn’t try those rituals after hearing all this. Just saying…”

Abraham and Mark understood what Odessa meant—and they also understood well that such matters carried no small amount of danger. What caught Abraham’s attention most was the part where the girl said that God was the Lord of everyone.

“That actually makes perfect sense,” he thought. “I’ve never looked at it that way.”

Odessa, having seen the effect her words had on him, voiced the fear that truly unsettled Abraham:

“I’m afraid my end will be like Jezebel’s—or even Hypatia’s. You won’t harm me, will you? Maybe not you, but the others on this island might try.”

At that moment Abraham became certain: this girl was no simple creature.

“Never. We would never raise a hand against you, and we won’t allow anyone else to persecute you for such reasons. Especially not because you dress like Hypatia…”

“I’m free. No one can tell me how to dress!”

“You’re right. I’m only giving advice. The choice is yours. Life is a balance—neither stoning someone just for dressing openly like Hypatia, nor dismissing everyone else’s sensibilities simply because you’re free, is the right path.”

Mark cut in:
“So you have mutual acquaintances? Who are these people you’re talking about?”

Abraham answered with a faint smile:
“Jezebel is the wicked woman from the Old Testament, and her punishment is described as truly dreadful. Hypatia, on the other hand, was a pagan priestess who lived in Alexandria. According to what’s told, the bishop of the city incited the people against her—perhaps calling her a demon or some other creature. And during the same turmoil, the Library of Alexandria was burned.”

Odessa interjected:
“Tell him what happened to Hypatia.”

“Yes, it was a gruesome death… First they stripped her naked, then they stoned her,” Abraham said, glancing at the girl.
“In the end, they threw her body to the lions.”

Odessa corrected him:
“Not lions—dogs.”

“So what’s the connection between Jezebel and Hypatia?” Mark asked.

“Hypatia didn’t fit the common image of a priestess. She had loose hair and wore revealing gowns. The bishop used her manner of dress to provoke the people.”

In that moment, Abraham grasped something new. He was now certain that Odessa had read the same papyri of unknown origin he had seen in the library. For although a story might appear in different books in different forms, the added interpretations beneath it would never be identical. The way Odessa corrected his mention of lions to dogs, exactly as the commentator had written in the papyrus Abraham had read, proved that their sources were the same.