From Abraham’s expression, Noah understood the turmoil within him and said:

“Yes, it’s true—hidden deeds often carry a foul smell behind them. But there are hidden deeds pursued for noble ends as well.”

At that moment Melisa’s voice drew their attention.

“Mother, there are people outside. I hear voices. Should I check who it is?”

She climbed to the higher section at the back of the cave. With careful movements, she stepped onto the flat rock, braced a log against it, and stood upright in the narrow, vertical gap where only one person could barely fit.

When Melisa called down, “There’s a young man and two elders outside,” Abraham rose to his feet at once.

“I forgot to tell you—those must be my mother, my father, and Mark.”

When Melisa climbed back down carefully, Abraham continued:

“While we were on our way here, I whistled for my pigeon. I tied a note to its leg and told them where we were. They should be bringing a few things with them. And now… I have some important truths to reveal to you.”

Petrus, Linda, and Mark stepped into the cave through the opening. Petrus glanced at the narrow entrance and then outside, thinking: “As the guardian of this forest, even I would never have found this cave. Even if the Lord’s men arrive soon, it’s clear they won’t notice it and will simply walk past.”

After Abraham explained everything to them, he turned to Noah, pointed at Melisa, and asked:

“Do you see the yellowish-brown stains where her teeth meet the gums? They’ve been there since her teeth first appeared — practically from birth. According to the Lord, these marks are a punishment from God because her parents defied religious commands and ancestral customs by refusing to marry their cousin and instead chose each other out of love. In other words, he uses an echo of the Abel–Qabil tradition to prevent people from choosing their own spouses.”

As Abraham said this last sentence, his eyes met Melisa’s, and his cheeks flushed.

Noah noticed the change in him and thought to himself:
“Humans… even on an island cut off from the world, the thing that affects young people the most is love and its expressions.”

Abraham continued explaining. In his experiment, after the water evaporated, two unmixed substances remained in the container; he believed one was connected to the tooth discoloration, and the other to poisoning and early deaths. After describing the sealed people, the pre-death burial pit, and many other details, he pointed at the container and asked:

“We believe this substance is what affects the teeth. Do you have any knowledge about it?”

Noah touched a bit of it to his tongue and recognized it immediately.

“As I suspected—this is fluoride. When too much fluoride mixes into water, it can first affect the teeth and then the bones. It can cause mild bone and dental disorders. I know this because in the region once called Natalia—what we now call Anatolia—the waters around the crater lake formed by a volcanic eruption, as well as the mountain springs above Lake Van, contain fluoride. It’s likely that the fluoride in your water here is connected to a crater lake formed by a similar volcanic event.”

“And do the people there have teeth like this?”

“Yes, some more, some less—the discoloration exists there as well,” he said, then added with a faint smile:
“This is certainly not a punishment from God. It is simply the consequence of a natural law established by Allah.”

Odessa, whose fever had finally broken, had woken up and heard everything spoken.

“You didn’t need to build that whole apparatus to understand it. When my twin Melisa’s teeth had been stained—when she had been sealed—mine hadn’t. Though we are children of the same parents, we had been raised on different water. For years I had lived here with my father, and Melisa had lived with my mother on that farm.”

“Why had you lived separate lives from each other?”

“The reason is perfectly clear: if, in the future, this island ever produces people who question the truth, who investigate, who follow the commands of God that honor human dignity instead of the superstitions and rigidity of the old guard—then someone must be able to tell them what is right.”

Abraham gestured toward Mark. “She means you.”

Odessa frowned. “It’s easier to lift a camel off the ground than it is to get Mark moving.”

Abraham was about to disagree—his expression already showing it—when he suddenly froze.

“You two know each other. It seems I’ve gathered every mysterious soul on this island in one place; what a rare opportunity!” he said, bursting into laughter. “Should I question each of you separately and throw your lies back in your faces one by one? Or… is that no longer necessary? Who should we start with?”

Mark raised his hand slightly.
“I told you—once we pulled off that launching stunt, I’d explain everything.”

Odessa responded calmly:
“Melisa has nothing to do with what we’re about to say.”

Abraham shot her a mockingly dramatic look.
“Oh, I see. So the skull and all those strange objects in that room over there are completely normal… and that’s not Melisa’s room, is it?”

Odessa crossed her arms and said, “Shame on you — did you really go into someone else’s room?” Then she continued:

“As I just said, my twin Melisa, who is one minute younger than me, doesn’t have a room here. The place you’re talking about is what we call a contemplation chamber. Almost every alchemist has one in their home. The skulls you saw belong to the remains of people who died long ago with no one to claim them — their bones were taken after they had decayed in their graves. So no, we haven’t killed anyone, and don’t worry, we’re not going to kill you either.”

Abraham asked, “Then what’s your purpose?”

Odessa gave him a look as if to say, I don’t owe you an explanation — I’m only telling you this because I feel like it, then said, “If you can be patient, I’ll explain each thing one by one.” She continued:

“The skull represents the final transformation a human undergoes after death.” Then she held up the powders in her hand.
“These are not sand — they’re sulfur and salt. You can think of them as catalysts that ease and accelerate a person’s transformation. The hourglass represents the passage of time, and the flame that refuses to burn symbolizes a person awakening from the sleep of ignorance.”

When Abraham pointed at the scythe on the wall, Odessa smiled and continued:

“Of course, that one isn’t for cutting crops. It represents the transformative force of nature — the way nature harvests the gifts it offers.”

“Nature?” Abraham scoffed. “Nature is inanimate! It can’t offer gifts to anyone.”

Odessa was not someone who would let such a remark slide.

Odessa shot back, “When one becomes a servant of God, everything gains life. But people like you — the moment you want to defend yourselves or pretend to defend Allah — you immediately accuse the other side of irreligion. And besides, what business is my faith to you?”

Mark quickly made a hush gesture toward Abraham and whispered in his ear:

“If you provoke her, she’ll deny God just to spite you. Even as a joke, don’t mock what she says.”

Abraham nodded and then asked, “Fine, then tell me — has this ‘transformation’ ever actually happened? Or rather, what even is transformation?”

Odessa shook her head.
“No. Transformation isn’t what you’re thinking — not some kind of deification (Allah forbid). Think of it as becoming a mature, refined human being. There’s something similar in monotheism too: as believers contemplate Allah’s power and the life after death, they believe they are purified of harmful thoughts and rise to sincerity — to true servanthood. You can think of it like that.”

“So you’re saying there’s no aim of becoming divine,” Abraham said, his expression turning serious.

Odessa clasped her hands and continued:

“Even if a believer attains such purification — whether by contemplation or even by some outer symbol like the cross — can you guarantee that for the rest of their life they will never fall into error? That they won’t let their ego swell and turn their own self into an idol? Besides, one’s intention may be corrupt from the very beginning — a desire to put on a show for people. Every individual, whether my father or others like him, may have different motives, and good intentions can decay over time.”

Noah understood at once. Odessa’s family was simply continuing a tradition whose roots stretched back to the Sumerian civilization of Mesopotamia. As long as her father viewed what he practiced not as a religious ritual but as a cultural custom, there was nothing problematic in terms of tawhid. Noah refrained from commenting further; he did not wish to draw attention to himself, especially with the young ones and Seth — who was not even present, still asleep — listening.

Abraham looked first at Odessa, then at Mark.
“I know who your father is — Mark must have told you. But is there any connection between him and the tower we saw on Çevre Ada? From what I gathered, your father was an alchemist. And that place looked as if some blood ritual had been performed there.”

Mark stepped in, as if taking the baton from Odessa.
“My friend,” he began, “remember when we were heading to Çevre Ada, I asked whether you’d seen the mad hermit who lives in the forest recently? That man is Odessa and Melisa’s father — and my master. Yes, he and a friend built that tower. But there was never any ‘blood ritual.’ Besides, after that old friend of his, no real alchemist is left on this island. I mean, aside from Odessa and me, there’s no one who could even attempt such a ritual. The people we tell spooky stories to — for fun — either don’t know these matters at all, or they assume everything is fiction anyway.”

Abraham reacted with a mixture of surprise and bewilderment to some of the things he heard. Seeing that Mark still hadn’t uncovered certain mysteries about him, he felt relieved — and quietly proud of keeping his word. Some of what he had learned, however, made him think: What a fortunate coincidence…

Following Mark’s explanation, he asked the one question that needed to be asked:
“I suppose I can finally meet your father now?”

Odessa’s eyes immediately welled up.
“We’ve been searching for him for days. We fear something terrible may have happened.”

“If you’ve searched every corner of this island, then only two places remain,” Abraham said.

Mark and Odessa exchanged glances; they knew he meant Çevre Ada and the Isle of the Qabil.

Abraham had been hearing so many new revelations that he nearly forgot what he had intended to ask: Who is this other alchemist you mentioned?
Mark caught Odessa’s look and understood: Abraham wasn’t ready to learn that name yet — he would, when the time was right.

Abraham raised a finger.
“Please, try to understand me — you’re telling me so many new things that my mind can’t keep up. Explain everything in order.”

Mark began, “A very long time ago…”

But Abraham cut him off.
“Don’t exaggerate. Anyone listening would think you’re talking about some ancient myth from centuries ago.”

Seeing the same expression on Odessa’s face that he had seen a moment earlier, Mark decided he’d better avoid mentioning ages altogether — and continued.

“I told you before — when our ancestors first came to this island, there were two alchemists aboard their ship, conducting certain investigations. As I said that day, the tower on Çevre Ada is connected to their work. Neither Odessa nor I fully understand how it functions, but if we were to spend long enough studying the relics they left behind, we could probably figure it out. Anyway…” Mark hesitated for a moment. “What we’re about to tell you may sound insane, but it’s the truth.”

Abraham leaned forward with curiosity.
“Well? What is it?”

“That tower can carry a voice from one end of the island to the other. More precisely, we can hear someone speaking from very far away — as long as they’re near a similar tower.”

Abraham reacted exactly as expected. He threw his hands in the air.
“Another alchemist legend!”

Mark continued unfazed.
“I used to ask you all the time: ‘How do you think you learned the things you read in the library?’ Tell me, where do you think those papyri came from — the ones recording the scientific and spiritual developments of the outside world after our ancestors settled here? You know perfectly well that generations of islanders, who never set foot beyond these shores, had no way of acquiring such knowledge.”
Then, with a teasing smile:
“I hope you don’t believe fairies or wandering spirits wrote them. Would that suit a man of learning like you?”

Abraham had to admit Mark had a point. Still, he couldn’t help thinking that someone in secret might have left the island, retrieved those papyri, and brought them back. But then he considered the reality: slipping past Lord’s guards and informers unnoticed was nearly impossible. And the idea that Lord would have allowed such a thing was absurd — especially since some of the writings stated plainly that ultimate authority belongs only to Allah, that no one can claim to be His representative, and that guidance may only be given on the basis of His commands and the words of His prophets. Why would a man so obsessed with his own authority ever permit such scrolls to exist in his domain?

“So, what is your goal then? What did you expect would happen once I read those papyri?”

Mark answered, “I think you already know the answer,” and continued:

“First you would awaken, and then the society would too. There is no one more suited than you—someone in whom reason and science unite with the purity of tawhid—to lead the people to question, to free them from superstition. With your mind you would make them think, and with your strong faith you would give them the courage to stand against tyrants like the Lord.”

He paused, as if remembering something, and lowered his head slightly.

“My master, Ilius, had considered choosing you as his apprentice before me. But when he saw the strength of tawhid in you, he thought alchemy would conflict with your faith, so he changed his mind.”

Abraham raised an eyebrow. “But you have those traits too.”

Mark shook his head.

“I’m not being modest. My reasoning is sharp, yes, but my heart does not hold as many truths of faith as yours does. Like most alchemists, I care about people only to a certain point; I would not risk my life for them. It is not my duty to guide them. The one who explains the truth must speak the language the people understand. A tyranny built on the misuse of God’s name can only be toppled by someone who truly believes. Someone like me, whose family is viewed with suspicion, could never persuade them.”

Abraham said,
“But you’ve acted incredibly bravely these past days. Without you, I would never have entered that château or rescued them.”

Mark shook his head.
“Alchemists always remain behind the curtain. The only reason I acted that way was the promise I made to my master Ilius—that I would protect his family. And now that I’ve exposed myself by staying at your side so often, there’s no point in hiding anymore. Not when we’re determined to bring the Lord down.”

Abraham stood up, rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and asked,
“Odessa’s story about coming from the Island of Qabil was a lie too. But what I truly want to know is this: why did the two of you set up such a scheme, and what exactly were you aiming for?”

Mark replied,
“As I said, we wanted to awaken the people through you. Neither of us has ever been to the Island of Qabil. We have no idea what lies there. But one thing is certain: if someone crafted the lie that the world had drowned just to keep us trapped on this island, then the myth of the Island of Qabil was crafted to keep us away from that place as well. And if that superstition is to be destroyed, someone has to go there.”

He grinned before continuing.
“And of course, the brave heart we needed was you—and your loyal companion, me. I pretended not to know Odessa, spoke ill of her, and warned you to stay away, all so my connection to her wouldn’t be exposed. And actually, when it comes to staying away from Odessa, I can’t say I lied entirely.”

At that, Odessa snapped,
“Idiot—look at yourself!”

Odessa said,
“The only lie was that I came from the Island of Qabil. As you’ve already understood, the part about lands and people existing beyond this island, traveling in great ships—that was not a lie. My father, Ilius, learned it from the man whose face he never saw but whose voice he could hear. Our plan seemed to be working. You appeared to believe I truly came from the Island of Qabil—
but what we did not anticipate was your mother reporting me.
And then there was another unexpected development… a pleasant one.”

“What happened?”

“Your meeting Melisa and my mother was pure coincidence. If God had not placed them in your path, our brilliant little plan would have collapsed, and we would likely have rotted away in the château’s dungeon. This is why I believe in fate—because even when we are unaware, it is shaped through our own will and desires. Yet that does not mean God grants us everything we wish for.”

Mark noticed Odessa avoiding something and stepped in:
“In fact, in our original plan, once we realized you had feelings for Melisa, we considered having her, not Odessa, escape from the Lord and ask you for help to reach the Island of Qabil. But Melisa refused. She said affection should never be exploited, not even for a noble cause.”

Hearing this, Abraham felt his heart lighten.
It showed Melisa respected feelings, refused to hurt anyone’s heart, and saw love as something sacred—never to be used as a tool for personal gain.

Noticing that Noah wasn’t in the room—and taking advantage of the fact that Seth had been lying sick and silent for a long while—Abraham whispered:

“What connection do you have with these men? How did you reach them outside the island?”

Mark threw his hands up and let them fall again.
“We’ve been telling you, but you don’t believe us. My master, Ilius, called them here for help. He used the tower to make his voice heard. I don’t know the exact details of what they discussed, but I’m certain he told them the volcano was close to erupting and that Lord was oppressing the people. And look at them—they must have been trained. They know our language, our beliefs. And the fact that they brought explosives with them shows they already knew what kind of tyrant Lord is and wanted to be prepared.”

Odessa stepped in.
“Back in the dungeon they told us, ‘You must be Ilius’s daughters. Dr. Wickens sent us.’”
Then she added:

“What really caught my attention is how opposite the two are. Noah is compassionate, sincere, knowledgeable about religion, respectful toward every belief, and has a nature that values human dignity. Seth, on the other hand, acts indifferent—self-centered even. To be honest, it’s as if Noah came here willingly, while Seth was dragged along against his will. He behaves like someone who just wants to finish the job and leave. They also seem mismatched, and in my opinion, they’re hiding something from each other.”

Abraham asked,
“Fine, their personalities may differ… but what makes you say that last part?”

Odessa replied:

While they were still in the cell, Seth had pounded on the door and shouted for the guards. When he kept insisting, the guards finally allowed him to speak with the Lord. Before Seth left, Noah had warned him, “Don’t do anything foolish and get us all burned.” We don’t know what Seth told the Lord, but on his way back the guards were mocking him, saying, “This man has completely lost his mind.” Noah had grabbed Seth by the collar, scolding him: “Is this how a man keeps his word?”

So whatever Seth told the Lord, it clearly failed to convince him—and it was obvious that he had exposed some secret he shared with Noah.

Abraham thought for a moment before saying:

“I think Noah is indeed hiding something… but I saw no treachery in his eyes. I don’t believe he means us harm.”

Then he cast a meaningful glance at the two of them:

“As if you two don’t still have your own secrets! I can see plenty from the way you look at each other— but never mind, that will come out in time as well.”