The original narratives are supposed to be three handwritten documents that the first Circle had left behind for them. Hami, Ariad and Parsana were the three people who had found and raised the Saviour. Each of them had written their own narratives giving details of how the Saviour was found, his life story from childhood to adulthood, his Marvels and Rules. These narratives were gathered in a book. They are all mostly the same. In some narratives, some timelines of the events and details are slightly different but the main parts like the Saviour Rules are the same, providing a solid and reliable source. Tirad doesn’t think that the original narratives would be placed amongst the other worn-out, rusty books that even their binds had become faded and unreadable through time. Something of this high worth should be kept in a special place, a decorated box, a leather covering, a special shelf etc. Tirad rolls his torch around the cabin, on every shelf, all the corners and by the table. There is a silver box on the table, covered by the rolled papers. Tirad stretches his hand and brings the box closer. It’s a silver box decorated with turquoise stones and beautiful fine carvings. It is not a big box perhaps 30 centimetres long and 20 centimetres wide with a short height. But it is big enough to hold an eternally valuable book. The choice of silver must have been to keep it away from the two possible dangers of fire and moist that is not uncommon in the ship.

Tirad takes a stool and sits on it in front of the box. He puts his torch close to the box to shine light on it. His hands are shaking and his stomach is soar again. He rolls his fingertips on the carvings and the precious stones and tries to open the box. But there is a small lock on the box door. He thinks the key must be there somewhere. He gets up and searches the table, between the papers and closed and open books that lie around. He looks down on the cabin floor and goes to the shelves again. He looks in the gap between every two book and puts his fingers through the gaps. He stands on his toes and puts his hand on the shelves’ tops that seem vacant. The dust on the shelves makes his hands feel dry and he coughs. All this dust proves that none of the maids had ever step foot in here, not even for cleaning. The dust is so untouched that it seems no one has been here for a very long time. Tirad gets back to the stool, despaired. He coughs again and stares at the box. Of course, such a treasure is locked in a box like this! And whoever locked it wouldn’t leave the key lying around. Hurmaz should have the key, but why didn’t he give it to him? What use is his coming here without having the key to the box that contains the original narratives? He already has a full copy of all the three narratives in his own cabin. Maybe he has to look for something else. If his answer were in the box, Hurmaz would have given him the key.