I landed in Granada and checked in at a hotel for the night. The room was clean and spacious with a balcony having a good view of Alhambra Palaces on a hill in the distance. After dinner and night shower, I sat on the bed cross-legged and took out my hairpin to have another look at it and fell in a deep thought as the questions raced through my mind.

‘Why is this thing connected to that place?’ Dylan’s dagger could maintain balance between the worlds and open a portal to another realm, but what’s this hairpin for? If this hairpin was a counterpart of his dagger, could it be a key to closing the barrier; hence, I was connected to him?

But, why it was me? Why did the grandmother leave it to me? Why was I connected to him?  He and I were deeply connected, and Dylan seemed to know the cause of its origin but held back from telling me about it.

Back on the train at Casablanca’s station, I saw another ME during space-time distortion, so how many times had I been to his world before and for what purpose? Did SHE die in the alternate universe? Or does SHE also exist in the parallel dimension?

Which one of us was real? Was any of it even Real and not a mere lucid dream?

These questions that surged through my mind made my head spin and hurt. I put the hairpin away on the nightstand and rolled back to sleep for the more I sought the answers, the more tangled and complicated these questions became like a never-ending pit of mysteries.

Next day, I decided to visit Alhambra Palace as originally planned. Situated on the top of Al-Sabika hill, the fortress is a huge complex of different Nasrid Palaces; Alcazaba, Comares Palace, General life Gardens and Palace of Carlos V, and I had no clue where to begin first.

To enter Alhambra’s Complex, there are two entrances. The entrance gate closer to Alcazaba and Nasrid Palaces is ‘The Gate of Justice’ which is less crowded than Pavilion Main Entrance, and one doesn’t have to wait in queue for the ticket if purchased online, or QR scan can be used which I did myself to save time and hassle.

Built in 1348, this gate’s entrance has an icon of Hand Of Fatima or Hamsa carved in the keystone of its arch symbolic of Banishment of Evil, Blessing, Protection and Justice, and a Cord with Key placed in the center of its inner archway which is said to open The Gate of Heaven. The Hand and Key icons are carved in multiple arches that strikingly contrast with the Gothic figure of Virgin Mary and Child placed atop of these arches by the Catholic rulers after the Reconquista.

Originally, it was associated with Carthaginian goddess, Tanit, but later, it came to be known as Hand of Miriam or Mary. Hence, be it any culture or religion, the hand was associated with a female figure to represent blessing and divine protection. According to the legend, it is said that when The Hand of Fatima falls, Alhambra will also fall signaling the end of times.

As I crossed the threshold and entered through the gate, I expected myself to be teleported to another dimension; surprisingly nothing of this sort happened, and I had to venture further into the palace’s compound.

Nasrid Palaces in Alhambra are comprised of different exquisite halls and palaces including Hearing room, Hall of Abencerrajes, Hall of the Ambassadors or Hall of Throne, Hall of Two Sisters and Patio De Los Leones that carries water to all these halls through a fountain channel.

Patio of Lions is a pinnacle of Alhambra’s architectural design and divides the courtyard into quadrants. The patio has a central fountain encircled by Twelve Marble Statues of Lions that shoot jets of water into the fountain. It is said that the twelve lions of patio are either symbolic of 12 Zodiac signs or Twelve Tribes from the sons of Jacob representing political power of the ruler on earth.

As I walked through the galleries of Alhambra’s palace, I reveled in its architectural splendor. The sun moves throughout the day, casting shadows through the windows and rooms of the halls of palace which makes the entire Citadel act as a big sundial. At midday, the sun divides the complex perfectly with half of the rooms in shade and half in light.

Court of the Myrtles, a hallmark of Nasrid architecture, is named after the myrtle hedges that line the reflective pool in its center which mirrors the surrounding structure and the arcade galleries. This pool is approximately 34m long and 7.10m wide having  two circular fountains at the both ends to channel water into it. However, these ground fountains are strategically designed to control the water flow in the pool to achieve still water effect for tranquility.

The courtyard has a tranquil and serene atmosphere, perfect for contemplating and calming one’s mind. As I long stood and watched the reflective pool, I suddenly recalled drowning in the sea near Algeciras. I shuddered at the traumatic memory, but it occurred to me that it’s the water that acted as a portal to the second realm.

The Story of Moses and Dead Fish; from Basilica Cistern to the moving Oasis and drowning in Sea, it had been the water connecting the two dimensions.

I took a step forward to look closely at the reflective pool; however, an accidental shove from another tourist pushed me into the water triggering the fight or flight response. I flailed my arms and pushed myself through the surface gasping for breath, but I found myself inside a lavish Turkish bath instead of Court of the Myrtles.

“You’re here.” The familiar voice grabbed my attention, and I looked back to see Dylan kneeling before me on the bath’s shelf in his signature black attire.I wiped my flustered face and took in the exotic surroundings of the bathhouse.

“This is…”

“We are inside a hammam in Cordova.” He told me. The green dress I had been wearing was ruined in the water and I looked like a drenched rat after falling inside the pool.

Dylan took in my disheveled form and amusingly said, “If I had known that you would drown yourself again, I wouldn’t have bothered saving you back there.” I processed his words and gradually recalled that the person who dived into the water when I was drowning was actually him.

“It’s you who had saved me.” I said in a surprise.

“Yes, who else could it have been?” He nonchalantly answered.

“Then, did you…”, I became mortified as I recalled what had actually transpired and stared at him wide-eyed. Realization dawned on him a minute later, and his face turned all possible shades of red.

“I did not!” He spluttered in embarrassment. “You were losing breath, so I shared my oxygen with you. I didn’t mean anything else.” The more he tried to clarify, the worse it sounded. Why was he so stupid?

“I get it. No need to explain yourself.” I said it to save him from further embarrassment. Had I known if he’d die of mortification, I wouldn’t have brought it up.I asked for his hand to help me get out the pool. The soon he pulled me out, I threw my arms around him and hugged him catching him by surprise.

“W-What are you…” His face was flaming red.

“You knew that I'd die. This is the fate you have seen.” I said to him and felt his muscles becoming tense.

“This is as far as You and I could go.” He told me. “The others You die every time.”

So, this is the Karmic fate.

Either I died on train in Casablanca or got killed in the Desert. I have never been able to make it alive to Spain, and each time, Dylan had to witness my death repeatedly. Even if I somehow managed to survive and board on the ferry to Algeciras, I drowned in the sea before him that would send me back in time and restart all over or crossover to different reality.

From what he told me, the others ME in different timelines wouldn’t have any memory of him or the event later, so why could I remember it all? Being here meant that something, or rather someone had broken this vicious karmic cycle.

 Could it be him?

“Why did you save me then?” I mumbled into his shoulder. If it’s predestined, he wouldn’t be allowed to intervene either unless, he’s the one who broke the rule.

“Because—”, Dylan hesitated before putting his hand on my back and said, “I couldn’t watch you die in front of me this time.” His voice barely audible made me question if I had imagined it.

“I couldn’t lose you.” His voice broke, and I felt him tremble in my arms. “You are the only one I know in this world.”

“I—” The words died in my throat before could be uttered because I didn’t know how to react or what to say to him.

Perhaps, death and fear of loneliness started to scare him too. Perhaps, he’s scared of losing me as much I was.

“I am here.” That’s all I could say to comfort him and patted his back. He held me for a while before I coughed and pulled back from his embrace.

 “What are we going to do now?” I asked him.

“We are going to see someone in Cordoba. He can help us find the Door of the Heaven.” He told me. “But, first you need to change. You will be caught in no time dressed like this.”

As I stood up, the humidity at the bathhouse and a sudden rush of blood made me dizzy and almost faint.

“Are you okay?” Even since I woke up at hospital, I had been feeling light-headed, but I told him that it might be because of the humidity to not to make him worried.

It’s surprising that not a single man was inside the hammam at that time of the day, otherwise it would’ve been nightmare if a woman showed up at their side of the bath in the 10^th Century Spain. I suspected it to be Dylan’s doing since he had expected me to show up at that place.

He sneaked me out to the women’s side of the bath where he asked a Berber girl to get me a set of clothes to change into and paid her for it.

Dylan and I left the public bathhouse after changing into the local attire. Dylan wore a plain white Jubba, and I changed into light blue Qamisa and pants. These loose plain linen clothes were comfortable and breathable to wear in the hot climate of Andalusia during the summer, and the headscarf and turban on head protected us from the scorching heat of the sun.

Dylan had bought a brown horse from the market for this journey. He helped me mount the horse letting me ride it first as he walked on foot holding the reins and led the way. The streets and the bazaars of Cordova were bustling with the merchants and traders going about their business, intellects and scholars engaging in talk at the book market and the children playing in the streets.

Cordova used to be the center of knowledge and learning in Andalucía and was known for its extensive libraries and greatest book market in the West. There were royal, public and private libraries and the knowledge spread across Spain. Caliph, Al-Hakam II had collected more than 400,000 from all over the world for his library, assigned 500 people for this task and had 170 female scribes working for him at his court.

During his reign, a large a number of Greek and Latin texts was translated into Arab for which he made a joint committee of Arab Muslims and Iberian Mozarab Catholics to undertake this project. Lubna-al Kitab, a royal secretary and female scribe of Caliph Al-Hakam II, alone had traveled to Middle East to collect the rare Manuscripts from Damascus, Cairo and Baghdad.

We could have arrived at the library sooner, had it not been for heat getting to my head again, so we stopped at the bustling book market to rest for a while before continuing further. Dylan helped me dismount the horse and got me to sit down on a stool and take a sip of water from his water-canteen.

“Are you really alright?” Dylan asked me growing worried since it had never happened before, but I told him it really was heat and nothing to be worried about.

 As I took another sip of water, one of the two scholars who had been arguing over an exegesis of some book caught sight of me and sent his pageboy to fetch a bowl of milk for him.

Then, the Persian scholar came to us and offered me the bowl of fresh goat milk to drink.

“It will relieve you of the heat.” He said, and I took the bowl of milk from his hand and thanked him for his generosity taking a sip of milk. However, what he said next almost made me drop the bowl on the ground.

“You aren’t someone from here.” The man cleverly observed, and Dylan protectively stepped in between us to block me from his sight.

“What is it that you want from my wife, brother?” Dylan covered us up as a traveling couple, but the man gave us a knowing look and smiled at us.

“What I meant to say is she can’t withstand heat of our weather, so I assumed that she must be from some far off place.” He clarified himself, but his pinning gaze transfixed me in place.

 I tugged at Dylan’s sleeve in fear, but Dylan put his hand over mine to comfort me.

“She’s just tired from the traveling.” Dylan told him and returned the empty bowl to him after I finished drinking the milk, but the man didn’t leave and kept watching us.

“Do you need anything else?” Dylan asked him after seeing him still there.

“No, nothing at all.” The man laughed before turning to leave, but he paused midsteps to look over his shoulder and said to Dylan, “You should take her back to where she has come from.”

Then, he eyed me and said, “As a dimension walker, should not be here lest she perish. A mere human being crossing the dimensions and entering another world comes with price.”

Our eyes widened in surprise, and Dylan ran after the man to get hold of him, but this person had already disappeared in the crowd and nowhere to be found or seen. Dylan asked the other scholar about this man's whereabouts, but he hadn’t seen that person before either. He had returned dejected, and I could see worry on his face after hearing that scholar’s warning.

“I’m fine. I really am.” I assured him, but Dylan wasn’t having it.

“No, you need to return to your world after we see the scholar.” He told me. “This dimension crossing is exhausting your life force. You can’t stay here anymore.

However, seeing that I was in no condition to travel in heat, he looked for a nearby inn and got us a room to rest for a while.

“Why do you not rest for a while before we set off again in the evening?” He suggested. Dylan asked me if I had wanted to eat something, but I refused as I was full after having the goat milk.

I sat on the bed and leaned against its wooden frame, closing my eyes to rest; however, what I hadn’t expected was for him to suddenly take my hand and check my pulse.

“What are you doing?” I cracked open my eyes in surprise.

“Why is your pulse this weak?” He furrowed his brows as he took my pulse.

“It’s nothing.” I pulled my hand away from him. “I’ll be fine after some rest.”

“Rhea…” His voice laced with concern, but it’s the last thing I had wanted.

“I am tired.” I said to him and closed my eyes pretending to sleep, but I could hear him pacing around the room. When I woke up, it’s already late afternoon. Dylan took care of few things and set off again after I freshened up.

This time, Dylan also mounted the horse and rode it with me. After traveling for half an hour, we finally arrived at a private library. It’s also when The Truth finally revealed itself.