When the two brave boys threw themselves into the dark grove, they collapsed to the ground from exhaustion. Lying there, they looked back toward the castle and saw the Lord’s men reaching the garden gate. The soldiers exchanged furious glances as they scanned the area.

The two friends whispered to each other:

“We did it… though not exactly in the way we expected.”
A summary of their strange fortune.

Once Abraham and Mark regained their strength, their first task was to return the three missing youths to their families. Naturally, the families thanked them with tears — and cursed the Lord with fury. The boys knew the youths would not want to recount how the Lord had treated them; reopening their wounds and reliving the abuse would only torment them further.

They did not share the details, but the boys’ sudden tears, their desire to avoid people, and their wish to live in solitude made it clear that the families needed to know enough to support them. Abraham and Mark decided to explain the situation to the parents — just enough so they would approach their children with greater compassion and understand the path to healing.

The matter did not remain only within the families.
As the story spread from mouth to mouth, there was no one left on the island unaware of the Lord’s depravity. The islanders gathered around the rescued youths, determined to reintegrate them into the community with kindness and acceptance.

With the exception of a few fanatical supporters of the Lord, the entire island united — against oppression, and against the hollow superstitions that had sustained his tyranny.

Linda and Petrus did not remain idle; they began working to raise awareness among the people. They explained that the three wells in the castle garden contained three different substances; that the yellow and brown stains on the teeth of those called Sealed came from the water of a different well given to them; and that the early deaths of those in their fifties were caused by a poisonous substance in the water given to them during their time in the burial pit.

To support what they said, they showed three groups of mice, each watered from one of the three wells.
They explained how the mice drinking from the first well — normal water — remained healthy, while the teeth of the second group darkened, and the mice in the third group died.

In truth, the mice drinking from the third well had not died, but their lethargy and loss of appetite made it clear that the water had harmed them. Although Abraham disapproved, Mark insisted:

“You don’t understand these people. For them to grasp the truth, the mice must be shown as dead!”

He then killed them. Mark was right — visuals were always more convincing. And with something as serious as death, the people could not simply ignore it.

The expected effect followed: the people began to raise their voices against the Lord.
At first, the Lord thought a few weak protests would fade away as usual, but this time the people — whom he believed he knew so well — were slipping out of his control. He realized they could storm the castle at any moment.

In a desperate attempt to save himself, the Lord blamed everything on the newcomers from outside, claiming that they were the ones responsible for the depravity.

With a mix of bribery and threats, the Lord tried to persuade the kidnapped youths not to speak of the horrors they had experienced — but his plan failed. His announcement that the newcomers had been thrown into the dungeon and would be punished according to the people’s wishes made Abraham all the more desperate to rescue Odessa and Melisa.

The Lord was capable of anything — even execution.
He still had not deciphered the secret of the newcomers, but he could not leave them in that state either. To protect himself and the youths, Abraham had claimed that masked men had thrown them into the castle grove and fled, thus diverting the Lord’s suspicion from the real rescuers.

The Lord, however, reasoned that if something had been put into the milk, only an insider could have done it. He became convinced that a traitor within the castle had helped smuggle the boys out.

As he pondered who the traitor might be, one name came to mind. He sent his trusted man to question him. The man insisted that neither he nor his family had anything to do with the incident. But the trusted aide said:

“He says that, but he plays the role of a father so well… he might be lying to protect them.”

As the Lord wrestled with the question of whether his secret disciple was deceiving him, his tight-lipped assistant burst in, clearly alarmed:

“My Lord, the news is bad! The crowd gathered outside the castle may attempt to force their way in at any moment.”

“And who are these people who dare rise against their lord?” the Lord asked calmly, without a trace of panic.

“From what we can gather, only a certain group actually intends to storm the castle. The rest seem to be protesting just for show.”

The Lord smirked and asked:

“Who is in this group?” the Lord asked.

“Mostly the Sealed,” his aide replied. “And the families of the three rescued youths. If you wish, I can intervene harshly. Once they’re thrown into the dungeon, they’ll learn their lesson.”

“I don’t think we should dirty our hands. Let us not damage our image as the merciful Lord in the eyes of the people. But if God punishes them… well, that is another matter.”

The Lord’s assistant understood exactly what his master meant. He immediately sent his men into the crowd with a warning:

“Because of these final slanders, God is furious! His unseen armies may come at any moment to punish the rebels. Who knows — it might be a creature, a storm, a terrifying earthquake, or a holy spirit we cannot see…

The Lord has received a new command from God: every rebel who touches the ground must be punished. So climb a tree, or climb onto your rooftops — but make sure you watch the punishment of the rebels unfold before your eyes!”

Hearing this, Mark muttered:

“He’s trying to scare people again,”
and dismissed it.

But Abraham understood that the Lord was planning something. His imagination leapt toward the idea of a creature rising from the soil or from the lake. Yes, there were clouds, but none of the dark storm clouds that foretold a violent tempest.

Then the story of the people of 'Ad came to his mind — they had pointed to a cloud in the sky and said, ‘This is a cloud bringing us rain.’ Shortly afterward they realized that the cloud carried not mercy, but a devastating wind sent as divine wrath.

Since the Lord knew the stories of the destroyed peoples, Abraham understood why he used this method. The assistant’s warning about a terrifying sound or earthquake reminded Abraham of the Thamud, who refused to believe the miracle of the she-camel brought forth from the rock by the prophet Ṣāliḥ — and were destroyed by a terrible shriek followed by an earthquake.

As for the mention of a “holy spirit,” Abraham suspected the Lord might attempt some kind of trick — magic or illusion. But he knew the islanders, experienced as they were with such deceptions, would not be fooled by simple flying sticks or childish sorcery.

Abraham was most troubled by the mention of a creature. The distant sound of dogs barking helped him understand what the Lord might have meant. He turned to Mark and said:

“Climb the tree — now!”

Then he rushed into the crowd, grabbed Melisa’s mother by the arm, and helped her climb up as fast as she could. She trusted Abraham completely, so she asked nothing and obeyed at once. As the barking grew louder, she sensed the danger approaching and shouted at the top of her lungs:

“Everyone, run! Climb the trees or get to higher ground!”

Those who heard Abraham’s warning looked at one another.

“What has made this boy so frantic?” they murmured.
But remembering how intelligent he was and how many things he had achieved, they knew he wouldn’t speak nonsense. Slowly at first — then faster — they began climbing whatever high places they could reach.

Meanwhile, Mark, perched comfortably at the top of a tree, was eating fruit as he called down in a relaxed tone:

“Have you never seen a dog, my friend? Why are you panicking the whole crowd over two or three mangy dogs?”
Grinning, he added:
“And just so you know — from this moment on, I don’t know you, and we have no connection!”

But the moment he finished speaking, the square erupted into chaos.

Huge black dogs — with massive, sharp teeth, red glowing eyes, and long, flat skulls — burst into the area from every direction. They were nearly twice the size of any dog the islanders had ever seen. They didn’t bark — they roared. Anyone seeing their thick claws, gleaming fangs, and terrifying red eyes would have been justified in calling them monsters.

Those who had been slowly climbing trees suddenly moved like lightning. No one knew exactly how many of the creatures there were, nor how much damage they were causing. A great cloud of dust rose, making it impossible to see; no one could tell what was happening amid the chaos. The screams and groans only deepened the horror. It was unclear whether the cries came from fear or from the pain of the dogs’ bites.

As the dust began to settle, Abraham noticed something strange — these half-beast, half-dog creatures were not attacking the Lord’s men. They didn’t leap toward them at all. Yet they hurled themselves wildly at anyone standing on the ground and those perched in the trees.

Thankfully, the creatures could only leap a few meters. A few tried to climb the trees, but were knocked down by branches cracked over their skulls.

Abraham grabbed Mark by the arm and pushed him downward as if shoving him off the branch.
“So? Weren’t you the one saying, ‘Who’s afraid of two or three mangy dogs?’” he whispered sharply.
“And weren’t you claiming you didn’t even know me?”

Mark, eyes wide with terror, stammered back:
“My friend, if these are dogs, then I should start calling my sweet dog Lesy back home my sweet mouse Lesy! Where did these things come from? How have we never seen them before all these years? And what happened to them to make them jump around like mad creatures?”

As the dust cloud thinned a little more, everything became clearer. Realizing no one had been killed, the islanders gave thanks to God. The creatures had indeed leaped onto people, but had not bitten anyone. Deep scratch marks — from their powerful claws — appeared across people’s arms and bodies. Those who had fallen were lifting each other up, scrambling desperately toward higher places, while the creatures continued hurling themselves upward at them.

A few minutes later, the Lord’s private servant passed through the square with a wagon full of hay. The creatures suddenly turned their attention away from the crowd and toward the cart. The black beasts chased after it, trying to leap onto it while galloping behind. Thankfully, the wagon was fast, and its sides were reinforced with thick planks. They couldn’t climb onto it — but had its speed dropped even slightly, the creatures might easily have caught it and toppled it over.

Watching the scene like everyone else, Abraham murmured:

“Interesting… There must be something in that cart attracting them. Perhaps the hay.”
Then, grinning, he added with mock seriousness:

“And if these creatures truly are divine punishers sent against sinners — as the Lord claims — then the servant driving that cart must be Malik himself, the keeper of the tormenting angels.”

“Besides, they don’t even have wings. They look nothing like angels,” Mark said, then added,
“In fact, I think the Lord’s trick is obvious. What is the most well-known trait of dogs? Their sense of smell. With those powerful noses, they can detect things we cannot even notice. The real question is: What scent were they following, and from where? If the Lord claims ‘the rebels carry the scent of sin,’ he might fool only the superstitious.”

A scene Abraham had noticed earlier suddenly came back to him. One of the beasts had leapt at one of two men standing side by side, but completely ignored the other. The man who had been spared had tried to pick up the sacred necklace he dropped in the chaos, but fear of the creature made him abandon it and run—and none of the beasts chased him.

Abraham pointed at the necklace hanging from Mark’s neck, the same one every islander wore.
“Why does everyone have these?” he asked.

Mark shrugged.
“We’ve worn them since birth. Whenever we try to take them off, the elders scold us. They say the charms protect us from evil spirits and wandering jinn.”

Abraham opened the tiny lid of the pendant and found a prayer—as expected—and a sprig of dried herb hidden inside.

“I understand the prayer,” he murmured, “but this herb… I’m certain it protects not us, but the Lord— or rather, the machinery of his oppression.”

When Mark sniffed the herb, he raised his palm in the air.
“This is mandrake!” he said—and then, lowering his voice, continued:
“It’s the very plant we mixed into the milk. They must have trained the dogs with it. For a dog, finding mandrake would mean a reward. A creature has desires just as we do; during training, whichever dog found this scent was probably given meat or bone. The dogs weren’t trying to attack people at all—they were trying to reach the mandrake hidden inside the necklaces. And the wagon that just passed… of course it had mandrake on it. That’s why the dogs instantly chased it.”

“Where was the wagon headed?” Abraham asked.

“Where else?” Mark replied. “To the place those dogs came from—the Lord’s private animal yard by the farm. No one is allowed inside. We’ve heard barking from there many times.”

Abraham nodded, finally placing the last piece of truth where it belonged:
“The Lord raised these beasts for days like this, kept them hidden, and unleashed them only so his deception wouldn’t be exposed.”

Just then, they heard the Lord’s men shouting:
“Haven’t we told you? Why do you think the beasts didn’t touch us but charged only at these rebels? Because we obey the Lord—we did not anger the divine!”

Abraham added,
“They wore no necklaces—no mandrake. That’s why the creatures ignored them.”
He glanced at the crowd. “And look—people are swallowing the Lord’s plan whole. Some are already rushing back to the manor to beg his forgiveness.”

Mark, wearing a troubled expression, murmured,
“It feels as if the Lord might actually win… What now? Are we going all the way back to the beginning?”

Abraham answered with hopeful eyes and a steady, confident voice:
“Our duty is to speak the truth. The choice belongs to the people.”

The two brave friends were determined to free Odessa, Melisa, and the two outsiders from the sealed cell. Their resolve was absolute. Once they brought them out, either they would live on an island where the Lord had fallen—where everyone was free, equal, and no longer deceived—or they would abandon this land altogether. Perhaps they would build a new life on the Outer Isle, or on the Isle of Qabil.

Lost in thought, Abraham pondered how they might enter the manor again. He could use the secret tunnel his father once mentioned for their escape, but how would he slip through so many guards and reach the dungeon in the cellar? And even if he did—how would he open that thick, locked iron door?

As these questions tormented his mind, his mother approached.

“Abraham, what sort of wildfire of ideas are you trapped in this time?”

He stared at her with blank eyes.
“Wildfire?” he echoed.

Linda felt the need to clarify.
“I mean it metaphorically.”

Abraham lifted his left eyebrow slightly and asked,
“Mother… why is my name Abraham?”

“You know the answer,” she said, gently. “But let me remind you. We named you after the prophet Abraham—known as the Exalted Father by some among the ancient Sumerians—who upheld the faith in one God.”

“I'm glad you named me Abraham,” he said. “He is my guide in all things—plans included.”
With that, he left his mother’s side and went to find Mark.

Abraham picked up a stone from the ground, pulled back the sling he used for hunting birds, and sent the stone flying. Then he turned around with a faint, confident smile.

“This,” he said, “is our plan.”