With boredom, the short winter sun tilted slowly towards its daily setting, descending slowly as if avoiding its inevitable resting place, surrounded by heavy clouds darkening below. The approach of sunset and the absence of light casts a veil of strangeness and mystery. As night fills with vague and hidden fears, a grinding sense of impending danger grows near the walls.

In these very desolate areas, only the fortress of 'Fardaqan' stands, ancient and appearing to the observer as a grieving old woman, solitary from afar. Nothing surrounds it but barren land without buildings, trees, or greenery, with cold winds whistling over scattered hills, roaring between rocky valleys. Even the birds avoid dwelling or flying over this barren, desolate, maze-like place.