The Last Keeper of the First Journal,part,20

Nearly a century had passed since a small group of tired travelers first stopped by a quiet spring tucked away among the dunes.The people who had helped build Narala were now only remembered through stories, writings, and songs.Children could still recite the names of Harith, Malik, Laleh, Kassim, Rashid, and the many ordinary men and women whose quiet will helped turn an isolated oasis into the biggest center of knowledge in Arabia.But no one alive had known them in person.History had turned into memory.Memory had turned into legend.Yet Narala still felt real.The marketplace still woke up before dawn.Water still flowed through old channels.The eastern bell still welcomed caravans crossing the desert.And beneath the oldest date palm, life continued as it always had.The keeper of the House of Records was now Hana.The