Kitab Tajul Muluk Rumi -

The second prince, Jamal, a poet and a schemer, went next. He took only a donkey and a lute, thinking to charm the guardian. He returned empty-handed, his lute strings broken, his eyes filled with a terror that looked like wonder. “It is not a thing you can take,” he whispered. “It is a thing that takes you .”

“I have olives and bread,” Zayn said simply.

“Perhaps,” said the guardian. “Or perhaps, he will finally live . That is the Crown of the Spirit. It is not gold. It is the unbearable weight of another’s suffering, willingly carried. It is empathy made manifest. Open the cages, or turn back. The choice is yours.”

The eldest prince, Farid, a man of polished armor and sharper ambition, left first. He rode with a hundred horsemen, carrying maps and chains. He returned three days later, pale and mute. He would not speak of what he saw, only that the valley had laughed at him.