~Al-Mamoon~

*clink clink*

*clink clink*

*rattle*

*clink*

The rusted cup was waved back and forth, in the direction of every passerby, yet no one stopped to lend a single guilder to the young boy. Sighing heavily, the child decided to walk around and find a new location, having been sitting by the Milk Fountains all morning.

The problem was, he didn't know where he should go next. He had no luck around a few booths, as the merchants would shoo him away believing he was bad for business; he tried near the palace, only for the guards to usher him off; and sitting by the Inn did nothing, as travelers were either too engrossed by the city or too tired from their travels to notice a small beggar nearby.

He walked to the front gates of the city; he did good there yesterday. A pretty girl gave him some babanas, before asking where his parents were.

He wished he could tell her he was an orphan, living on his own for so long that he lost count of the weeks, his mother having died of illness; they were too poor to afford any medical help, and had no relatives, so he was alone…

Yet his story remained unheard, as he could not speak.

There were so many times he wished he could have used his voice, since reaching Al-Mamoon some time ago, whether to let out exclamations of wonder at coming across a new city, or to cry out for help if he were injured or sick.

Thankfully, he was good with his hands, so he could share a little bit through gestures. He managed to tell the girl he had no parents by shrugging and shaking his head. She took pity on him, asking if he would like to stay with her and her father…

But, he turned down the offer. Granted, it would be nice to stay in a house with a warm bed and a hot meal, and the girl and her father seemed quite kind… though he had a mission to fulfill. If he went and stayed with someone, he could miss his chance.

He also learned, from experience, that some people would only act kind in order to trick someone. He learned this long ago, when a man promised to take care of him and his mother… only to end up taking their money; an elderly woman once conned his mother out of her savings by selling a phony Sage's Secret, which was nothing but water in a bottle; and, two weeks after his mother passed away, a man promised to help the boy find food and shelter… but in the end, turned out to be a con-man, tricking the boy into breaking into a shop and using him as a scapegoat. The man was caught, as the boy managed to escape ahead of time once he realized he had been conned.

Then there were people who didn't have to pretend to be nice- they just showed their dark sides. A band of thugs once stole food from him while he was running errands for his mother; a woman, who once had been kind, hit him with a broom when he accidentally knocked over a flower-pot; and some greedy merchants cheated his mother, charging her 40g for a couple sandwiches, which normally only cost 10g apiece.

Perhaps the most terrifying was the hooded figure he encountered, three days after his mother passed away…

"The world is full of dark people… some of them are broken-hearted, so you cannot blame them too much for their foul spirits." His mother once told him. "But there are still good people out there, and the good will always outnumber the bad."

He hoped she was right. For the last month or so, he had encountered quite a lot of bad luck- from having to leave the last town because of a bunch of rats roaming the streets, to ending up in a scuffle with a few beasts in the field where he ended up passing out or getting wounded.

He was also starving… though, he was used to that. They never could afford enough to eat, his mother often giving him the larger portions of whatever they could afford in order to keep him fed.

Maybe that's why she grew so ill…

Sighing, he went to the front of the gate, sitting down across the street from a boy who was sending out a few homing-pigeons. The little beggar went to rattling his cup, looking at the gate and hoping a few travelers would be generous enough to lend him some guilders, if not spare a bit of food; otherwise, he would just leave and go to the next town. He heard there was a village near the shore…

"Everybody indoors!" one of the guards by the gate shouted, startling the boy. "There's a sandstorm coming!"

An alarm-bell rang, the *dong… dong… dong…* sound echoing throughout the city, warning everyone to seek shelter. Merchants quickly closed up shop, packing up their goods and covering their stands with tarp; children playing in the streets stopped their games and ran indoors; and all the soldiers ran through the streets, helping others get inside.

One guard grabbed the boy by the arm. "Hurry, child- get inside!" he urged, taking the boy over to the hotel. The boy tried to tell the man that he could not stay in a hotel, but the guard had already ran back out to make sure others were safe.

Looking around the lobby, the boy noticed a few other people had ran into the little inn, despite they were not patrons. The Purrprioter welcomed everyone all the same, though, and offered complimentary beverages. "Sandstorms have a way of causing thirst, even if one is purroperly hydrated," she was saying to a couple people, handing them bottles of water.

Within moments, two guards ran in and locked the doors; seconds later, there came a howling wind, as sand began to blow into the streets, covering everything from rooftops to walkways. Looking through the glass panes of the doors, the young beggar saw that the streets were filling up fast- already the sand was almost his height!

There came a tap on his shoulder, and he turned around, seeing the Purrprioter holding a platter filled with bottles of water. "Here, here, you seem parched young man," she said, handing him a bottle. She then looked at him, up and down. "Goodness! You're filthy- been out playing in the sand, I'm guessing. And how scrawny you are… When have you last eaten?"

The boy thought for a moment, before holding up two of his fingers.

"Two minutes?"

He shook his head.

"Two hours? …Two days?!"

He nodded.

"My heavens! You poor child… Wait here," she then walked away.

The boy sighed, sitting down in a chair. He looked around, seeing that most of the people were either chatting with one another, or deciding to check into some rooms, figuring it would be a while until the sandstorm would be over with.

With no one watching, he reached under his hat- a ragged, stitched-up little cap his mother had made- and pulled out a yellow stone. To anyone else, it would seem like a scuffed, worthless piece of rock… but he knew otherwise. In time it would show its worth.

But not at this moment.

Sighing, he caressed it, hoping that its power would show soon…

The Purrprioter walked back over; quickly, the boy hid the yellow stone under his hat, before she could notice anything. He didn't know just how many people knew of its ability.

"Here, have this," the Purrprioter said, handing the boy a cheeseburger on a plate. "A child as young as you should not be left to starve…" her eyes drifted over to a corner of the room, immediately lighting up. "Oh! Please excuse me!"

The boy watched as the Purrprioter walked over to a man carrying a paintbrush and canvas- an artist, no doubt. She then began asking him about a request, for a portrait of the Cowlipha, Queen Lowlah.

The little beggar ate the cheeseburger, looking around as the crowd in the room began to disperse, heading up to rooms or look around the inn until the storm had passed.

After eating, the lobby was practically empty, save for a couple people lounging about, the artist painting on his canvas, and the Purrprioter who resumed work at her desk.

Growing tired, he curled up in the chair, shutting his eyes to sleep.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

When he woke up, he found that it was late in the afternoon. The Purrprioter wasn't at her desk.

Standing up and stretching, he looked out the window; the storm had stopped some time ago it seemed, as a few guards were already out in the streets, sweeping and shoveling away all the sand that had billowed in, having started with doorways and making paths for people.

The beggar stepped out, walking along a clean-swept path. Perhaps he could help out and earn some guilders for doing some work.

*Whoosh!*

He gasped, ducking down as a wave of sand rushed towards him- only to blow over his head and out the gates of the city, mixing in with the rest of the Shimmering Sands. He looked over, seeing that the whole block was clear of sand, and saw a man at the end of the street, holding a staff.

"Thank you for your assistance, Rashaad," one of the guards said. "We highly appreciate it,"

"Indeed. It would have taken us all night and the next day to clean it up without your help," a second guard added. "I assure you, Queen Lowlah shall be informed of your kindness, and you shall have your reward,"

"That will not be necessary; I only helped for the sake of doing so. This city is the home of both my daughter and I," Rashaad answered, looking over his shoulder at his daughter. "Esther, how are you doing over there?"

The boy followed his gaze, seeing that Esther was the same girl who had given him babanas last week. She was currently sweeping sand away from someone's doorstep. "I'm almost finished, father!" she called back with a smile.

"Can't she use her magic? It would help her with her task," one of the guards asked.

Rashaad chuckled. "I believe my daughter's talent is used mostly for handling familiars." He answered. "She knows many songs to sooth a savage beast, and prefers to use the magic of her harp than a wand,"

"How unique… You must be so proud- the father of a musician,"

Everyone gasped at the voice that came from nowhere, its tone dark and venomous.

The boy's first instinct was to hide; his second to remain still and pray the Dark Djinn did not notice him.

Rashaad turned, watching as Shadar appeared, hovering above the city. "So the Dark Djinn shows himself before me at last…" he groused, glaring at the fiend. "And what darkness do you plan to unleash in our city?!"

"None… I come offering a bargain," Shadar responded, hovering closer. "Surrender yourself to my power, or suffer by a broken-heart,"

"I will not heed any bargain from you, especially one that defies my role as a Great Sage!"

"Such bold words… I remember another Great Sage who also defied me. Yes… the one from Hamelin. You remember what became of him, do you not?"

"I remember… and that is why I will not surrender! Break my heart if you wish, but I will not give in to your demands!"

"Oh… but it is not your heart I plan to break…" Shadar looked over, and cast his spell…

…striking Esther in the chest; the young girl had been standing close behind her father, her harp in her grasp as if preparing to aid him.

"ESTHER!" Rashaad gasped, watching as a light was pried out of her chest.

"So much courage from a girl this young… Let us see how well she does without it!" Shadar said, before looking back at Rashaad. "…And if you continue your defiance, her suffering shall continue! Keep my words in mind, Rashaad…" With that, the Dark Djinn vanished.

"F-Father…?" Esther gasped, holding her chest; she was trembling. "What… what happened to me?!"

"Esther, my child!" Rashaad cried, falling on his knees and hugging his daughter. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

"Father… I'm scared… W-What are we going to do?!"

Rashaad wiped his eyes, standing up. He sighed, looking down at Esther, seeing the fear in her eyes. "We are going to go home…"

"You're not going to go after Shadar?!" one of the guards asked. "You should curse him for what he's done!"

"Yes, if it were my daughter, I would be hunting him down-" another guard added.

"Enough! …It was because of my defiance that my daughter suffers from heartbreak now…" Rashaad snapped, wincing. "I have failed her… I have failed everyone… I will not repeat this mistake! I will never again use magic."

The boy watched as the Great Sage walked home, ignoring the guards who urged him not to surrender; Esther- terrified of all things around her- followed close, arms wrapped around her shaking shoulders.

The boy copied her actions, walking over to a narrow stairwell, deciding to rest there as night was falling; he hoped Shadar would not return to the city anytime soon.

He had already seen the demon enough in his lifetime…