Suzanne quickly responded, "No, Farnas may have the Sepid Force, but that's it. It didn't participate in any wars, neither as an attacker nor a target. There's a vast garden in the south of Farnas, which served as a preparation area for many wars. I've heard that numerous secret decisions by war commanders were made in these parts because no one suspected them. That's where we'll head."

Suzanne believed that a place with a rich history of resistance still had a high probability of harboring the object of interest.

Tufan, who had remained silent like Arjang and Dianush up to that point, raised a question, "Isn't it better to return sooner? We know that the situation is not as we thought, so we should report that."

Suzanne responded, "We don't know anything yet. We've only witnessed some events, but we haven't deciphered their meaning. I don't know much about your azhamuz, but kazhamuz Tarikan never allows his trainees to return empty- handed."

She continued without looking at Shahab, "However, one option is to return to Ashuban right now. If we provide our report, we might receive some recognition, and they'll likely assign us to their typical domestic missions. Meanwhile, the kazhamuzes may dispatch a trained team of senior apprentices, led by one of their own, to uncover the truth of the matter. All the credit will belong to them. If you prefer, this is also a choice..."

Before she could finish, Shahab roared, "Not going to happen!" He moved towards the edge of Zino and added, "We'll go to the garden," just before taking a powerful leap across the river with the blazing glow of his gaparo. The boys immediately started crossing the river, each in their own way. Arjang jumped in the stream and moved across the river like an eel with a twisting, shining body. Tufan created a current of air under his feet and began to walk over the river with a cautious attitude that came from his newness in using this tactic. Dianush moved so fast across the river that the water acted as a hard ground for him. Suzanne glanced at Parisa, and when she realized from her smile and the expression in her eyes that she had realized what Suzanne had done, she winked at her and ran towards the wild Zino.

"Diva! Big Firecracker!" A moment of strong wind and rushing water under her feet, and then, she landed a few steps in front of Shahab. She gave him a knowing look, even as his anger simmered behind his eyes, and spoke with an air of purpose, "Let's go."

*

The sun dipped on the distant Zarnegar Mountains, and the group of seven Ashubanies had split into smaller clusters. In the first group, Tufan and Dianush discussed their future aspirations.

"I want to go to the northern lands of Ashuban, on the other side of the Great Towers," Tufan said. "I heard there's a massive sea over there, much larger than the Parsin sea."

Dianush asked, "And then what?"

"I'd like to spend my life on that sea, maybe as a commander in the Ashuban army, conquering the northern islands," Tufan replied. "It's what my father always said – to build a great family and a respectable surname, the sea is the only option for someone like me, his only child."

Dianush suggested, "If you succeed, would you name your family after your father, like 'Apian' (Waterborn)?"

Tufan considered it, "I hadn't thought about it, but it's a good idea. My father would be happy. What about you? What do you want to do?"

Tufan looked at one of the five people ahead and answered, "I'm not interested in grand names and traditions. I just want to help Ashuban however it needs. If cooking is what Ashuban needs, I'll use my culinary skills. If there's a war, I'll be the first to volunteer on the frontlines or even infiltrate enemy territory. I'll be whatever Ashuban requires."

"Ah, but the Ashuban worshipers themselves fall into two distinct categories. One group believes in the Kazhamuzes as the rightful center of power, while the other holds the seven main families as the heirs of Ashuban's first generation. Which side do you lean towards?"

The reply came with a thoughtful tone, "I hope that the choice I make in the end truly serves Ashuban's best interests, but my heart aligns more with the second group you mentioned."

A short distance away, Parisa and Rubina engaged in a heated debate with Shahab.

"If only Akhgar Azarbar had, for once, heeded the Council of the Seven Families’ advice, Makin might never have harbored thoughts of rebellion against Ashuban!" Rubina asserted passionately.

Each of Rubina's words seemed to ignite Shahab's temper, while every statement from Parisa, though still in opposition to him, appeared to quell the flames. Shahab almost shouted, "My grandmother saw something that none of the Families or even the kazhamuzes could perceive! If Makin had been left undisturbed, it would be a part of Parsin today!"

Parisa countered, "But Parsin itself remains deeply divided! They haven't had a unified government for a long time. Moreover, Makin is not officially recognized as part of Ashuban's territory. The northern guard towers separate the lands!"

Shahab continued, "What I mean is that the customs prevailing in Parsin were on the brink of becoming the norm in Makin as well. This way, we'd be pressed by the enemy's culture from both above and below. When Akhgar Azarbar ordered your uncle's arrest..."

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He directed his words at Rubina, who displayed no partiality, clearly valuing the historical context of the discussion.

"...she effectively silenced the leader and symbol of a faction striving to revert us to the pre-Red Fall era, making them vanish from the public eye. Out of sight, out of mind! Anything that disappears from view tends to fade into obscurity, even the very cause one had once fought for."

"The Makinies' uprising and Ashuban's subsequent suppression actually contradict your assertion."

Shahab roared, "No, my words hold true! Your uncle aimed to assimilate us with the Parsinians, who no longer even have time to consider us and are preoccupied with their own issues. He sought to introduce Parsinian customs like Yalda and other foreign festivals right under Ashuban's nose!"

"Admit it, your grandmother acted on her own!"

Shrugging off the accusation, Shahab argued, "Why all this fuss about Makin? What notable contributions has it ever made to Ashuban's history that we should give it so much attention?"

Rubina, who had pondered mentioning kazhamuz Tarikan, who bore distinct Makinian features in her opinion, hesitated out of caution and regard for historical accuracy. In contrast, Parisa contributed, "My father often remarks that war is a force that unearths hidden tensions, which may only manifest themselves later and ensnare more individuals. We never truly grasp the kind of monsters we unleash when we plunge into conflict."

Shahab asserted, "At that time, Akhgar Azarbar was the rightful heir of one of the seven families and possessed the authority for independent actions as per Ashuban's laws. The fact that the families consult with the kazhamuzes or often align with public opinion should not mislead anyone into believing it's a mandatory process without any room for objection. There's a reason why the Azarbars are Azarbars, and others are not!"

Parisa and Rubina exchanged glances, their voices rising with growing enthusiasm as their debate with Shahab intensified.

Meanwhile, the third group consisted of two individuals from contrasting backgrounds, unexpectedly brought together in the realm of silence. Arjang Mar-Chap, positioned slightly beyond Shahab and the two girls, walked with half-closed eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose at regular intervals. Suzanne, a few paces ahead of the others, begrudgingly acknowledged that, despite her personal aversion to Arjang, he dutifully followed orders. When designated as a guard, he tirelessly circled around the group, sniffing for potential dangers and remained vigilant.

Beneath the darkening sky, a lone, crimson-hued peak known as Farnas stood prominently in the west, its peculiar form captivating Suzanne's thoughts. She couldn't help but ponder how towering the Zarnegar Mountains must be to be visible from a distance many times farther. Now, she truly grasped the term "towering" as it pertained to those formidable mountains.

The terrain ahead gradually grew harder, and larger stones became visible sporadically. Suzanne's memory of encountering the enemy twice in less than a day heightened her caution as she passed each stone, well aware that Arjang's vigilant nose alone was not enough. Amid the dim surroundings, she experienced fleeting moments of uncertainty, witnessing shadows shifting behind these stones, only for them to vanish when she looked again. Simultaneously, a profound internal conflict consumed her thoughts – was she putting her friends' lives, particularly Parisa's, at risk in pursuit of eternal honor for herself and her family?

Suzanne's earlier suggestion to turn back and report to Ashuban had inadvertently emboldened the group's hardliners, further instilling their determination to press on, while the more cautious and law-abiding members remained subdued. She grappled with the idea of continuing the search, even as her proud, assertive side argued fiercely against her responsible, protective self. One side urged her to honor her words and decisions, and not to retreat even if it proved a mistake, while the other reminded her of her duty not to intentionally jeopardize her comrades, even if she was resolute in fulfilling Tarikan's wishes.

In the final minutes when the stars began to twinkle in the sky, with a lingering trace of the sun, they reached the smooth Mahro road, a relatively narrow path, yet more suitable for carts and carriages. The South Road intersected it perpendicularly, according to the map Suzanne had brought along.

“We should not move within the main roads.”

Suzanne momentarily set aside her inner turmoil and turned her face to address her attentive companions, explaining her plan, "We'll cross the Mahro road and keep a parallel distance from the South Road. When the garden becomes visible in the distance, we' I'll make camp and start patrolling in the early hours of tomorrow while it's still dark."

No objections were raised to this course of action. As they crossed the Mahro road, Rubina and Tufan gazed in admiration at the slender stone pillars, slightly taller than a stout horse, each adorned with a torch that illuminated the entire path from both sides.

Rubina shared some historical context, "It appears that a few riders from Madian Azar and Abparakan are responsible for maintaining the lighting along the Mahro and South Roads. At least two riders venture out each night to keep the roads illuminated and keep watch. This tradition has persisted for hundreds of years."

Shahab acknowledged her insight, commenting, "They may no longer maintain a unified command, and their communication may have waned, but they're not foolish."

Rubina continued, "The farther south we go, the more wealth accumulates, and the greater the presence of thieves and bandits. So, guarding these roads is only logical. The Mahro road used to be considered one of the safer routes – or at least it was in the past."

On the other side of the road, the rocky terrain persisted, gradually giving way to greener, softer ground. As a cold wind suddenly swept in, Suzanne tightened her scarf around herself and breathed a sigh of relief. It appeared that they would have a peaceful night ahead and would soon be able to set up camp. Suzanne welcomed the prospect, hoping to avoid any further confrontations. The third skirmish on their first day in Parsin would likely lead to protests against her leadership from certain group members, protests that common sense would easily reject. She cherished the silence that had enveloped the group since crossing the Mahro road, allowing them to savor the tranquility and the fragrance of winter fruits wafting in from the garden. But fate was not something that Suzanne could fight with, no matter how much she wanted to.

“... as I told you, all three of us will return home soon.”

In an instant, the entire group snapped to attention, realizing the unfamiliar voice was none of their own. They quickly raised their guards and formed a protective circle, back to back. Every ear sharpened, every eye scanned in every direction, straining to locate the source of the voice.