Record — 1

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I am Resha.

The first thing to strike me on entering was this enormous mountain.

It has risen above the clouds; its summit is out of sight.
From its skirts towards the top there are settlements, arranged like a spiral.
At the very top stands a tree: between white and yellow, shining like gold —
at that height it is the only light.

I went as far as its foot.

There is an enormous gate. Four letters are cut into the stone:
elif — lâm — mîm — sâd.
I could find no one to ask what they mean.

There were guards waiting at the gate.
Mountain goat below the waist, human above. Spears in their hands.
A white seamless cloth about them — like a pilgrim’s ihram.
White stones hung from their horns; the number differed on each,
and I did not dare ask why.

Their eyes are not human eyes. Their look is neither hostile nor welcoming —
it is more like a border itself.

“You cannot enter without Adem’s leave,” they said.
I asked who Adem is. They did not answer.

I turned back. I know neither the mountain’s name nor what the tree at its
summit is. First I need to find somewhere I can read —
someone in this realm must be keeping records.

I had an AI draw what I saw. It did not quite understand me,
but this is the closest thing I can show you.