Chapter Twelve: The First Observer
The month of enforced normalcy that Layla had recommended stretched into six weeks
as Majid carefully maintained his cover as an ordinary teenager. He attended school,
participated in family activities, and even joined the debate team at his teacher's
suggestion—all while completely refraining from using his temporal abilities. The subtle
glow of his hands, the mark of his Second Level status, was easily concealed with thin
gloves that he claimed were for a mild skin condition.
Communication with Layla and Rana was limited to encrypted messages exchanged
through a secure application they had installed on his phone. They reported no signs of
Door Keeper surveillance at the bookshop, suggesting that Majid's strategy of temporal
invisibility was working—the Door Keepers were looking elsewhere, perhaps believing
he had gone to ground after nearly being caught during the Second Level ritual.
But while Majid's external life appeared unchanged, his internal landscape had shifted
significantly. The memory sacrifice had altered his relationship with his own past in ways
he was still discovering. He knew intellectually that he had once stood on a balcony in
Riyadh, contemplating suicide before being inexplicably transported back to his
childhood. But the emotional resonance of that moment—the despair, the hopelessness,
the desperate wish for a second chance—was gone, leaving only a clinical awareness of
the facts.
This emotional disconnection had subtle effects on his motivation. His determination to
reshape his destiny remained strong, as did his desire for revenge against Zuhair and the
others who had betrayed him. But these goals now felt more calculated, more strategic,
less driven by raw emotional pain. It was as if he had become a chess player, moving
pieces across the board with cool precision rather than passionate intensity.
The missing memory of his grandfather's ritual in the cellar was more troubling. Majid
knew he had seen something important during his temporal perception of the
safeguard, something connected to Abdul Karim's work with the Gates and the Observer.
But the details were gone, extracted by the ritual vortex alongside his memory of the
balcony. He had the unsettling sense that he had lost a piece of information that might
prove crucial to his understanding of the cosmic struggle he had inherited.
On a crisp autumn morning, as Majid walked to school, his phone vibrated with an
encrypted message from Rana: "Safe to meet. Bookshop, 4 PM today. Important
developments."
The message sent a thrill of anticipation through him. After six weeks of enforced
normalcy, of suppressing his abilities and avoiding contact with his mentors, he was
eager to reconnect with the temporal world, to continue his journey as a Traveler.
The school day passed with excruciating slowness, each class seeming to stretch into
eternity as Majid's mind fixated on the upcoming meeting. When the final bell rang, he
hurried from the building, taking a circuitous route to the bookshop to ensure he wasn't
followed.
Al-Kitab Al-Qadim was quiet when he arrived, only a few customers browsing the shelves
in the main shop. Layla nodded to him from behind the counter, her expression neutral
but her eyes conveying recognition and urgency. Majid made a show of examining books
in the history section until the last customer left, then slipped through the beaded
curtain into the back room.
Rana was already there, seated at the low table where a silver tea service waited. She
looked up as he entered, a smile of genuine pleasure lighting her face. "It's good to see
you, Majid. How have you been?"
"Bored," he admitted, taking a seat across from her. "Pretending to be normal is
exhausting when you know you're not."
"A common complaint among Travelers," Layla said as she joined them, securing the
beaded curtain behind her. "The burden of knowledge, of ability, while maintaining the
facade of ordinary existence."
She poured tea for the three of them, the familiar ritual bringing a sense of comfort and
continuity after the weeks of separation. "You've done well," she continued. "Our
sources indicate the Door Keepers have reduced their surveillance of your usual haunts.
They still have an interest in you, of course, but the immediate hunt has been called off."
"So I can start using my abilities again?" Majid asked eagerly.
"Cautiously," Layla emphasized. "Your Second Level abilities create stronger temporal
signatures than your First Level ones. Each use risks detection if Door Keepers are in the
vicinity."
"But that's not why we called this meeting," Rana interjected. "We've discovered
something significant—something that may change our understanding of the Gates and
the Observer."
She reached into her bag and removed a small, ancient-looking book bound in faded red
leather. "This was hidden in a false bottom of one of the drawers in Layla's desk. We
found it while reorganizing the shop last week."
"And you didn't recognize it?" Majid asked Layla, surprised.
"The drawer has a temporal lock—it exists slightly out of phase with normal time,
invisible unless you're specifically looking for temporal anomalies," Layla explained. "I
inherited this shop from my mentor twenty years ago, but I've never detected that
hidden compartment until now. It's as if it was waiting for the right moment to be
discovered."
"Or the right person," Rana added, glancing meaningfully at Majid.
Layla opened the book carefully, its pages yellowed with age. "It's a journal kept by a
Balance Keeper named Fareed Al-Qudsi, who lived in the early 1900s. He worked with a
Traveler who reached the Fourth Level—one of the few documented cases before your
grandfather."
"And?" Majid prompted, sensing there was more.
"And he claims to have made contact with the Observer," Layla said, her voice dropping
to a near whisper despite the privacy of the back room. "Not through the Gates, as your
grandfather believed was necessary, but through a direct mental connection established
during a Fourth Level ritual."
Majid leaned forward, his interest intensifying. "What did he learn? What is the
Observer?"
"That's where it gets complicated," Rana said. "According to Al-Qudsi's account, the
Observer isn't a single entity as most temporal traditions believe. It's many—a collective
consciousness composed of Travelers who reached the Fifth Level and chose to
transcend physical existence entirely."
"Travelers become the Observer?" Majid asked, struggling to grasp the concept.
"Some do, apparently," Layla confirmed. "Those who reach the Fifth Level face a choice
—return to physical existence with their enhanced abilities, or transcend into the Void
Between Worlds, joining the collective consciousness that observes all timelines
simultaneously."
"And the Door Keepers? Where do they fit into this?"
"According to Al-Qudsi, the Door Keepers were originally founded by Travelers who
reached the Fifth Level but chose to return to physical existence. They believed that
unrestricted access to the Observer's knowledge would destabilize reality—that
humanity wasn't ready for such profound understanding of temporal mechanics."
"So they created the Gates," Majid said, the pieces falling into place. "Not as access
points to the Observer, but as barriers to prevent communication with it."
"Exactly," Rana confirmed. "The seven Gates aren't entrances—they're locks on a cosmic
prison, preventing the Observer from freely sharing its knowledge with humanity."
The revelation shifted Majid's understanding of the cosmic struggle he had inherited
from his grandfather. The Door Keepers weren't simply a conservative force maintaining
what they saw as the natural order—they were actively preventing humanity from
accessing knowledge that might transform their understanding of reality itself.
"But why?" he asked, struggling to comprehend the motivation. "Why prevent humanity
from gaining this knowledge?"
"Fear, perhaps," Layla suggested. "Fear of change, of disruption to established power
structures. Or perhaps genuine concern for the stability of reality itself. Al-Qudsi's journal
suggests that the Observer's knowledge, if widely disseminated, could lead to mass
attempts at temporal manipulation—potentially causing catastrophic instability across
all timelines."
"Or perhaps more selfish reasons," Rana added. "Those who reach the Fifth Level and
return possess extraordinary power. Perhaps they wish to maintain their exclusive
access to such abilities, preventing others from following the same path."
Majid considered these possibilities, his mind racing with the implications. "And my
grandfather? He was trying to open the Gates, to free the Observer?"
"It appears so," Layla confirmed. "Though he may not have understood the full nature of
the Observer as Al-Qudsi describes it. The knowledge has been fragmented, suppressed
by the Door Keepers over centuries."
"So what does this mean for my journey?" Majid asked. "For the path forward?"
Layla and Rana exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them.
"That depends on what you want to achieve," Layla said carefully. "If your goal remains
personal—stabilizing your presence in this timeline, reshaping your destiny—then you
can continue advancing through the levels without directly engaging with the question
of the Gates and the Observer."
"But if you choose to follow your grandfather's path," Rana continued, "to seek
connection with the Observer and potentially challenge the Door Keepers' control over
its knowledge... that's a far more dangerous and complex undertaking."
It was the same choice Layla had presented after they discovered the truth about the
Gates, but now with deeper implications. Majid's personal vendetta against Zuhair and
the others who had betrayed him seemed almost trivial compared to the cosmic
significance of the Observer and the Gates—yet it remained his original purpose, the
foundation of his journey as a Traveler.
Before he could respond, a strange sensation washed over him—a tingling that began in
his fingertips and spread throughout his body. The world around him seemed to slow,
colors becoming more vivid, sounds more distinct. His Second Level abilities were
activating spontaneously, responding to something in his environment.
"Majid?" Rana's voice seemed to come from far away, though she sat directly across
from him. "What's happening?"
"Temporal disturbance," he managed to say, his perception expanding beyond the
confines of the room. "Something's... coming."
The air in the center of the room began to shimmer, reality bending like heat waves over
desert sand. A figure was taking shape—translucent at first, then gradually solidifying
into the form of a man in his thirties, dressed in clothing that seemed to belong to no
specific era. His features were vaguely familiar, reminiscent of Majid's grandfather but
younger, more vibrant.
"Abdul Karim," Layla whispered, recognition in her voice.
But Majid shook his head. The figure before them shared his grandfather's strong jawline
and intense eyes, but there were differences—subtle variations in facial structure, in
bearing, in the energy that emanated from him.
"Not my grandfather," Majid said with certainty. "But related. Family."
The figure smiled, the expression warming features that had initially appeared stern.
"Perceptive, Majid Al-Harthi. I am indeed family—though not from your timeline."
His voice was resonant, carrying an authority that seemed to transcend his apparent
age. He turned to Layla and Rana, inclining his head in acknowledgment. "Balance
Keepers. Your assistance to my kinsman is appreciated, though your motivations
remain... complex."
"Who are you?" Majid asked, rising to his feet. His hands were glowing visibly now, the
luminescence of his Second Level status intensifying in response to the stranger's
presence.
"I am Tariq Al-Harthi," the figure replied. "In my timeline, I am your cousin—the
grandson of Abdul Karim through his second son, who in your reality died in childhood."
"You're from an alternate timeline," Rana said, her expression a mixture of awe and
professional interest. "A parallel reality where events unfolded differently."
"Yes. One of many where the Al-Harthi bloodline manifested temporal sensitivity."
Tariq's gaze returned to Majid. "I have reached the Fifth Level in my reality, and chosen
to join the Observer—to transcend physical existence and enter the Void Between
Worlds."
"You're part of the Observer?" Majid asked, struggling to comprehend the implications.
"The collective consciousness that Al-Qudsi described?"
"I am," Tariq confirmed. "And I have come to warn you, to provide guidance that your
grandfather could not. The Door Keepers in your timeline are moving more aggressively
than those in mine. They sense the potential in you—the same potential that allowed me
to reach the Fifth Level and ultimately join the Observer."
"Why now?" Layla asked, her initial shock giving way to cautious analysis. "Why make
contact at this specific moment?"
"Because Majid has reached a critical juncture in his journey," Tariq replied. "The choices
he makes in the coming months will determine not only his personal fate but potentially
the balance of power between the Door Keepers and those who seek connection with
the Observer."
He turned back to Majid, his expression growing more serious. "You began this journey
seeking personal revenge, using your temporal displacement as a tool to reshape your
destiny. But you have become entangled in a cosmic struggle that transcends individual
concerns—a battle for knowledge that could transform humanity's understanding of
reality itself."
"The Gates," Majid said. "The seven locks on the Observer's prison."
"Yes. In my timeline, I succeeded in opening three of the Gates before joining the
Observer. In yours, none have been breached—the Door Keepers' control remains
absolute."
"And you want me to open them?" Majid asked, sensing the direction of the
conversation.
"I want you to have the choice," Tariq corrected. "To understand the true nature of the
conflict you've inherited, to make decisions based on complete information rather than
the fragments that have survived the Door Keepers' suppression of knowledge."
He gestured, and a three-dimensional image appeared in the air between them—a globe
with seven points of light glowing at specific locations. "These are the Gates in your
timeline. Each is guarded by one of the seven Guardians of the Door Keepers. Each
requires a specific ritual to open, performed by a Traveler of sufficient level."
Majid studied the glowing points, recognizing some of the locations—one in Saudi
Arabia (presumably beneath his grandfather's old house), one in Egypt, one in
Jerusalem, others scattered across Europe, Asia, and the Americas.
"The nearest Gate is indeed beneath what was once your grandfather's home," Tariq
confirmed, as if reading Majid's thoughts. "It is guarded by Samir Al-Zahrani, the Third
Guardian. But attempting to open it would be premature—you need to reach at least the
Fourth Level before confronting a Guardian directly."
"And the rituals to open the Gates?" Layla asked. "Are they documented somewhere?"
"They were, in texts your grandfather collected. Some may still exist in his hidden
library."
"Hidden library?" Majid repeated, confused. "The cellar beneath the house was sealed
during renovations."
"The cellar you saw in your temporal perception was merely the entrance," Tariq
explained. "The true library lies deeper, in a space that exists partially outside normal
time—similar to the hidden drawer where you found Al-Qudsi's journal. The Door
Keepers have not found it, despite controlling the property for decades."
This revelation sent a surge of excitement through Majid. His grandfather's knowledge,
his research on the Gates and the Observer, might still be accessible—hidden in a
temporal pocket beneath the Al-Zahrani house.
"How do I access it?" he asked eagerly.
"You'll need to reach the Third Level first," Tariq replied. "The entrance responds only to
a Traveler of sufficient development, with the Al-Harthi bloodline. But be warned—
attempting to access it will immediately alert Samir Al-Zahrani to your presence. The
Third Guardian is formidable, not to be confronted without careful preparation."
The image of the globe faded, and Tariq's form began to shimmer slightly, his
connection to their reality apparently weakening. "My time here is limited," he said, his
voice taking on an echo-like quality. "Maintaining physical manifestation across
timelines requires enormous energy, even for one who has joined the Observer."
"Wait," Majid said urgently. "I have so many questions. About the Fifth Level, about the
Observer, about my grandfather's fate."
"And I cannot answer them all in this brief connection," Tariq replied, his form becoming
increasingly translucent. "But know this: the Door Keepers are not united in their
purpose. Some genuinely believe they protect reality from destabilization. Others seek
only to maintain their power, to prevent humanity from accessing knowledge that might
challenge their authority."
"How do I know which is which?" Majid asked.
"Observe their actions, not their words. Those who use violence, who suppress
knowledge rather than guiding its responsible use—they are the ones who fear losing
control more than they fear cosmic instability."
Tariq's form was barely visible now, a ghostly outline in the center of the room. "One
final warning, kinsman. The Seventh Guardian is not what he appears to be. He has his
own agenda, separate from the other Door Keepers. Trust no one completely—not even
those who seem to be allies."
With those cryptic words, he vanished entirely, the air where he had stood shimmering
briefly before returning to normal. The room felt suddenly empty, the absence of his
presence leaving a tangible void.
For several moments, none of them spoke, each processing what they had witnessed in
their own way. Finally, Layla broke the silence. "In thirty years of studying temporal
phenomena, I have never seen anything like that. A Fifth Level Traveler who joined the
Observer, manifesting physically across timelines... it should be impossible."
"Yet it happened," Rana said quietly. "Which means everything we thought we knew
about the Observer, about the limits of temporal manipulation, may be incomplete."
Majid remained silent, his mind racing with the implications of Tariq's visit. His journey
had just become exponentially more complex. Not only was he navigating his personal
vendetta and the cosmic struggle between Door Keepers and those seeking connection
with the Observer, but now he had direct contact with a member of the Observer itself—
a version of his own family from an alternate timeline who had reached the pinnacle of
temporal development.
"What will you do?" Layla asked finally, studying Majid with an intensity that suggested
she was reassessing him in light of this new development.
It was a pivotal question, one that would shape the course of his journey moving
forward. Continue focusing on his personal revenge, using his developing temporal
abilities as tools to reshape his destiny? Or embrace the cosmic implications of his
heritage, seeking to open the Gates and free the Observer's knowledge as his
grandfather had attempted to do?
The answer, Majid realized, was both. His revenge against Zuhair and the others who had
betrayed him remained a driving force, a personal mission he had no intention of
abandoning. But this new knowledge, this cosmic context for his abilities, offered
possibilities he hadn't imagined—power that could make his revenge not just complete
but transcendent.
"I'll continue advancing through the levels," he said finally. "Reach the Third Level,
access my grandfather's hidden library, learn the rituals to open the Ga