He'd taken a bath today, but he didn't feel clean.
The scorching summer heat meant that water was to be used frugally, and more days were spent inside, hiding from the sun. Sa'akah had barely left the house in days. The heat had been deadly, and many of the village animals had perished.
Today was bearable. As the people moved about the village harvesting what was left of their sun-beaten crops, Sa'akah was walking to their secret meeting place. He usually ran there, but it was still too hot for that.
Behind the village, not thirty meters from the Corys River which emptied into the Erythraean sea was a large, twisted dead tree that was said to be older than the village. It's trunk was massive in girth, and inside was their secret place. Some time ago lightening struck the tree, creating a great crack in the trunk, small enough for children to slip through. Rim had discovered it at the end of the previous year.
Sa'akah wiped his brow as he reached the tree. Stepping through the crack, he found himself stuck for a brief time before he wiggled just the right way and managed to slip through. He'd been growing a lot lately - in the right ways, he hoped - and where he'd previously been able to enter the tree trunk without touching either side of the crevice, now he felt it press him on both sides. He supposed they would have to whittle the edges a bit more.
"I was expecting Rim first." said a girl's voice, and Sa'akah wiped off the front of his shirt.
"Hmm? He's not here with you?" he asked, his eyes adjusting to the inside of the tree. Cracks from above let in enough sunlight to be able to see, but the sun had been shining brightly enough on the sand to blind him. Slowly Ghazi's small form came into focus, sitting on the wooden bench he and Rim had crafted for their fort. She shook her head, hugging a jointed doll to her chest. "Why not?"
"He walked me here, and then he said he forgot something and had to run back home," Ghazi explained, swinging her legs. Her lips pulled into a pout. "He wouldn't tell me what, though."
"Huh." Sa'akah walked to the bench and sat down, breathing a sigh. It was refreshing and cool inside their tree. He suspected the wood acted as a decent absorber of heat, and the updraft from the far-off sea may have contributed. Whatever the reason, he was grateful.
Sa'akah and Ghazi talked for several minutes before Rim appeared, slipping easily through the entrance, a wide grin on his face.
"Ahh, Sa'akah, you're here already…"
"Of course I am, you're the one whose late," Sa'akah pointed out. "And what's with leaving Ghazi here all by herself? What if I'd been held up at home or something?"
Rim reddened. "It's not like anyone else knows about this place but the four of us!" he spat hotly. "You're too overprotective."
Sa'akah rolled his eyes, smirking. "One of us has to be."
"Why, you…" Rim glanced at Ghazi, his expression becoming soft, as it often did whenever he regarded his younger sister. "You're fine, aren't you?"
Ghazi smiled brightly and nodded her head. "Mmhmm."
"See? Stop giving me a hard time!" Rim announced, punching Sa'akah in the shoulder. Sa'akah easily shoved him off, laughing.
"What was it you had to go back home and get?" Sa'akah asked curiously. Rim knelt down to open a wooden chest sitting on the floor beside the bench, sifting through it. They called it their treasure chest, though the items inside could hardly be considered treasure. Rocks, feathers, a strange stone coin Aini had found when they'd been digging down by the river, and sticks of varying sizes and shapes: nothing striking his fancy, Rim closed the chest.
"I forget," Rim said offhandedly, but Sa'akah noticed the pink that had crept into Rim's cheeks and the furtive way his eyes swept away from him. Sa'akah wasn't one to pry, so he allowed the subject to drop. He knew well how sensitive Rim tended to be, no matter how adamantly the aforementioned disputed this fact.
Heavy breathing and the occasional gasp sounded from outside the tree, and a moment later Aini was climbing through the crack, bracing his hands on his knees. He usually arrived in this manner, eager to appear punctual and dependable to the older boys regardless of how many times Sa'akah told him it really didn't matter. Rim whirled around, placing his hands on his hips.
"You're late!" Rim said, tapping his foot as if he'd been waiting for Aini to arrive.
Aini took another moment to collect himself before he spoke. "I'm… sorry…" he panted, his face pink from running in the heat, "I didn't realize… what time it was…"
"Unacceptable!" Rim announced authoritatively, tossing his hair. "I have a mind to cast you out, right now!"
Although both Sa'akah and Ghazi knew that Rim was teasing, Aini almost looked like he could cry. Loudly, Sa'akah cleared his throat.
"Says the boy who arrived just moments ago," he said. "We didn't really agree on a set time anyway, did we? Stop acting so spoiled."
"Oy!" Rim cried. Ghazi giggled, and Aini noticeably relaxed.
"I brought us some treats," Aini offered, pulling a bulging leather sack from his back pocket. Rim, Sa'akah and Ghazi all watched with wide, curious gazes as Aini emptied some of its contents over his hand; shriveled, dark purple fruit spilled into his palm. "Father found a date tree on his way back from Mecca, and he gave me a whole bunch this morning! I thought we could all share them."
Rim sprang forward gleefully. "Dates! It's been a long time since I've had one!" He plucked one from Aini's hand and handed it to Ghazi, who had rushed over and was currently bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. She eagerly took a bite, whimpering in delight.
"It's so sweet!" she squeaked. Once the little girl had eaten the boys dug in, careful to split the fruit evenly among them.
.
.
.
The sun hung low in the sky, bringing with it a wave of relief from the searing heat of the day. The children knew better than to stay out too late. Aini took his leave first, as was typical; his father required his help at home often, and he couldn't usually play as late as the others.
As Sa'akah and Rim walked along the snaking path that divided the village, both of them holding one of Ghazi's small hands, Sa'akah spoke.
"How is your father?"
Rim smiled. "He's doing a lot better," he said over his sister's head. Ghazi seemed to barely be listening, too tired from the heat and hours of playing. Her feet dragged, and Rim gently pulled her hand to keep her from nodding off.
They reached Rim's house. Rim helped Ghazi through the door, guiding her by her shoulders. "Can you hang on for a second?" Rim asked Sa'akah, before Sa'akah could say his usual goodbye. Blinking in surprise, Sa'akah merely nodded as Rim disappeared inside.
When Rim reappeared, he motioned for Sa'akah to follow him. The two of them walked along the path, Sa'akah wondering what had prompted Rim to want to talk to him alone.
"Father isn't actually doing any better," Rim said, though he sounded surprisingly calm. "I didn't want to say anything in front of Ghazi."
"I understand." He paused, watching the ground in front of his feet as they walked. "Do you know what's wrong with him?"
"Not yet. He's been seen by two physicians, and neither one of them can help him. We don't have anymore money to pay them, even if they could help."
Sa'akah's eyes narrowed at the path, and he kicked a rock out of his way. "I'm sorry…"
"Don't be," Rim said with a sigh. "There's nothing you can do about it, so apologizing is pointless."
The two of them walked along in silence, kicking at pebbles, vaguely aware that the sun had dipped just below the horizon. As the orange-red hues of evening began melding into shades of soft blue, Rim stopped walking, leaving Sa'akah to follow suit a step in front, turning to face him. A timid brand of tension vibrated between them.
"We're moving away." Rim said, his eyes finding Sa'akah's and holding his stare. Sa'akah's jaw clenched, but he said nothing. "There's a Shaman my grandfather met who agreed to try and heal my father. I guess they say he's a miracle worker, or something." He looked down and away, fixing his gaze on a patch of yellowed grass that was poking out from some dry soil. "That's why I wanted to talk to you, really. I wanted you to know."
Sa'akah swallowed an uncomfortable lump in his throat. "Does Ghazi know?"
"Not yet."
"Where are you going?"
"Kindah." Rim answered stiffly. The kingdom of Kindah was far enough away that Sa'akah knew he would likely never see Rim or Ghazi ever again.
"How will you pay him?"
Rim's lips pressed into a line, and he scratched his nails through his hair. "My grandfather made a deal with him, something about me working for him, like an apprenticeship."
A wrenching feeling settled uncomfortably in Sa'akah's stomach. "He sold you?"
Rim scoffed. "Kind of." Regarding Sa'akah's blown open eyes and hanging mouth, Rim waved a hand petulantly in the air. "It's not that bad. I'll still get to live with my family and everything. I'll just be working for this Shaman guy."
"And when your father gets better, what then?" Sa'akah asked. The air grew quiet. Rim stared at the ground forlornly, forsaking a response. Sa'akah didn't pressure for one. Neither of them believed his father would get better.
Breaking the silence, Rim stretched his arms into the air, groaning in satisfaction. "I wanted to tell you first, anyway. I'll tell Aini later, but I get the feeling he'll cry."
Sa'akah laughed through his nose. "I bet he will."
"There's one more thing," Rim said, searching around in his pocket. He pulled something free, and extended it to Sa'akah. "Here."
Rim dropped the item in Sa'akah's hands, and the boy's fingers curled around it, inspecting it. It was a bracelet, the band made from leather strips that were painstakingly braided together. Holding it up close to his face, Sa'akah noticed a lovely jewel carefully set in a crude metal piece that the leather strips were tied to. Sa'akah looked at Rim.
"You made this?"
"Yeah," Rim said, with a hint of pride.
"This gem, is it really okay to give this to me?" Sa'akah asked, pointing out the deep purple jewel. Rim grinned.
"I found it a while back down by the river. I didn't really know what to do with it until I started making the bracelet. It's pretty though, right? It's like a good luck charm."
Sa'akah dangled the bracelet between his eyes, getting a good look at it in the darkness. "Is this what you 'forgot' at home earlier?"
Rim laughed, embarrassed. "Yeah, I thought I'd give it to you sooner but... I don't have Aini's finished yet, so I didn't want to give you yours in front of him." He paused. "I didn't have the courage to tell Aini and Ghazi everything today like I'd planned, either. Once we were all together, I just wanted to have as much fun as possible."
Gripping the bracelet tightly in his hand, Sa'akah's chest tightened painfully. He didn't want Rim to leave. Rim's life was going to change drastically and Sa'akah would remain here, undisturbed. He wouldn't be able to help Rim at all. The secret tree meant nothing to him if Rim wasn't there.
"If your father got better before you had to leave… Then..." Sa'akah spoke quietly, unsure as to why he was saying such a thing. Rim smiled pensively.
"Yeah." was all he said.
Sa'akah nearly felt like he could cry, but he didn't dare. Instead he slid the bracelet over his right hand, staring at it. "I'll treasure it." he said.
"You better!" Rim said in mock-warning. He grinned cockily a moment later, tilting his head. "Don't forget about me when I'm gone, okay? I made you that so we can stay connected forever. So that means you definitely can't forget about me, no matter what."
It was such an overly romantic things to say, such a Rim thing to say. Sa'akah's mind overflowed with things he wanted to reply with. He nearly let it all out, let the emotional tirade consume him and tell Rim exactly how he felt, but he didn't. As Rim began walking toward home, Sa'akah merely matched his pace, walking close to Rim's side, his chest tight and his eyes stinging.
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Though he wasn't able to walk Akilah back to her village without risking being seen, Aini watched her from a safe distance, ensuring she could slip back into town without being hassled. When he was satisfied she was alright, Aini wasted no time returning to the spot where they had all congregated before, atop the hill with the best view of the palace.
Aini sat on the sand and set his gaze determinedly on the palace, watchful for massive feathered shadows looming from above.
For close to three hours Aini hadn't seen any movement around the palace, and nothing in the skies. Miss Maha hadn't returned yet, but he'd seen the state she was in, and suspected she needed more time to heal. He was beginning to regret his decision to stay behind, not for his own comfort, but because he felt astoundingly helpless. He had no news from either end, no idea what was being planned, and there had been no developments that he could see. He had initially wanted to stay in case Hafa returned, had he managed to free himself from the ghuls or whatever those giant birds were; but as each minute ticked by without seeing him alive and well, Aini's worry grew.
From behind him, Hafa's camel groaned and stomped, pulling Aini from his thoughts. Aini stood up, brushing the sand from his pants. "You're worried too, I bet." The camel tilted his head up and grunted again. Aini placed a hand on the animal's snout, and the creature snorted in approval.
An incredible distance away, something moved.
Squinting against the sun, Aini strained to see it. A figure, it looked like, lumbering slowly away in the distance. Aini wondered if he had been in the sun too long; it didn't seem possible to have noticed something so miniscule. Before long, the figure had vanished into the shimmering desert heat.
A surge of elation coursed through him. He wasn't sure why, but he felt a strong pull in the direction of the figure. He reminded himself that it could have been anything; a mirage, a dog, a nomad perhaps, but still his chest swelled with something strangely familiar, something he'd not felt since his time at the palace.
Aini looked back at the palace without entrance, feeling torn. He didn't feel right abandoning Hafa, even if his presence did nothing to assist him. From behind, the tugging sensation grew in tenacity. Having made up his mind, Aini untied his horse from the camel's head harness, patting the animal's neck.
"You'll stay, won't you? To wait for Hafa?" Aini asked the camel as he mounted his horse. Of course he received no answer aside from a snort. Aini cast one last look back at the palace, and then pulled on the reins. He and his horse started off, sand flying from the animal's hooves, leaving the palace behind them. He intended to come back. As soon as he learned what it was that evoked such a feeling of urgency within him, he would return.
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Hafa was numb. Sa'akah had gone quiet, watching Hafa evenly for a reaction. Hafa wasn't sure what sort of reaction he could have wanted. Anger? Sadness? Whatever it was he was feeling, it stirred within his stomach like a hurricane and made him wish he'd never come to this place. He would have rather lived in ignorance. All at once he understood why so many humans chose to live without facing reality, wrapped in a blanket of their own delusions.
"My body…. Belonged to someone else?" Hafa repeated softly.
"Yes. Curses can't just create flesh and bone bodies on their own. It may have been someone who died on the sands, or perhaps the curse was responsible for the man's death... There's no way to know. How it happened is irrelevant."
Hafa looked down at his hands, a rush of sickness rising in his throat when he realized that they weren't his hands, they never had been. Why hadn't he thought about it before? Why did it never occur to him that something like this may have happened after he'd been suddenly forced into a mortal vessel? When he'd opened his eyes for the first time and felt this mortal body creak back to life, why did it not strike him to consider how it had happened?
What would Makarim think? Makarim had touched him in this body. He'd shared a bed with him. How could he possibly tell Makarim that he'd been loving someone's corpse? Surely Makarim would tell him that it didn't make a difference to him, that he loved Hafa no matter what form he took, but he would only be hiding his disgust. The reality of it would always loom over him. In the end, how long would Makarim be able to tolerate being with a fateless, soulless being whose flesh didn't belong to him?
"Hey," Sa'akah was holding Hafa by the shoulders, keeping him upright. Hafa realized hazily that he must have almost blacked out. Having Sa'akah hold him up was embarrassing, but he felt too listless to push him off. He also had no guarantee that he would be able to stand without help.
He was wordlessly led by Sa'akah to an area on the other side of the throne room which had yet to be illuminated. The darkness felt good against Hafa's eyes, and he allowed Sa'akah to sit him down in a large cushioned chair. Hafa sank into it, boneless.
"Just sit there and get yourself together." Sa'akah instructed coldly, leaving him to climb the stairs to the throne and collect his staff before striding toward the massive door through which they had entered. "I'll be back shortly." he called, voice echoing as he disappeared into the hall.
Hafa leaned back in the cushions, closing his eyes. He didn't want to think of anything. He wanted to leave, but he wasn't sure where he wanted to be if not here. He wasn't sure he could face Makarim or anyone else after everything he'd learned. For a wild moment Hafa thought to dismiss everything Sa'akah had told him as elaborate lies, but he knew he couldn't. There was nothing Sa'akah stood to gain by lying to him. Even worse, everything made sense. While Hafa had spent the last few months with such a simplistic goal in mind, Sa'akah was here, holding onto all of the answers. He suddenly felt more worthless than he ever had before.
Sa'akah returned relatively quickly, carrying a golden cup filled with steaming liquid. He extended it to Hafa, and the latter regarded the cup with suspicion. Sa'akah sighed. "It's tea. I'd be happy to take the first sip if you really distrust me that much."
Hafa took the cup carefully, and Sa'akah wandered to the wall, resting his staff next to him.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked.
Blowing over the tea before taking an experimental sip, Hafa nodded vaguely. The tea was bitter, but invigorating. He felt infinitely more embarrassed that Sa'akah seemed to be waiting on him. More than anything, he did not desire pity in any form.
"Good. There's more I need to talk to you about."
Hafa's teeth ground against one another. "No."
A flicker of irritation rose behind Sa'akah's eyes. "No?"
"I'm sick of this. You've done nothing but tell me horrible things that I don't want to hear. I'm done listening."
Sa'akah's lip twitched in a snarl. "The horrible things I've been telling you are facts. Regardless of whether or not you want to hear them doesn't make them any less true."
"Are you enlightening me, then, just to make me miserable? How do you even know all of this?" Hafa demanded angrily.
A thick tension filled the following silence. The two men were locked in decisive eye-contact, waging a silent battle of wits. Sa'akah relented first, letting out a long sigh and crossing his arms, leaning a shoulder against the wall.
"I'm no expert on curses, but the scholars who lived here were. I've learned a lot from reading their manuscripts. The curse you bore must have been conjured up by Sharik, because I've never read about it. I can only make educated guesses based on what happened and how it functioned."
"I'm not just talking about the curse," Hafa admitted. "You know more about Sharik than Siraj al Din likely did. Rim, too."
"I told you," Sa'akah countered irritably, "I've known Rim since we were young. We were born in the same village."
The room went thoughtfully silent. "When the fire took the village, were you there?" Hafa asked, looking down into his tea.
Sa'akah's expression became something unreadable. "Yes." After an uneasy pause, he spoke again, stiffly. "I met Sharik that night."
Hafa fell silent, focusing on drinking his tea. So many questions floated among them, but Hafa was finding it more difficult that he previously thought to ask them. Bringing up the fire had put both of them in a somber mood.
"You mentioned visiting Rim's palace. What happened there? Why did you go?"
The slight shift in conversation seemed to alleviate the gloom that had fallen over the room. Sa'akah's eyes rolled upward, recalling the memory. "I had tracked Rim to the village where he and Ghazi were living after our own burned down. When I found they had run away, I searched for them until I heard word of a Prince Rim who had inexplicably come to rule an entire kingdom… I knew Sharik had something to do with it, so I traveled there and tried to seek an audience with him. Rim appeared, but Sharik took control of him immediately. I realized nothing could be done until Sharik was removed from Rim, so I left and began searching for the Seal of Solomon."
Hafa was confused. "I stayed with Rim while he was living at the village. I never saw you."
"Naturally. I never made myself known." Sa'akah drawled, as if it were obvious. Hafa frowned.
"If you knew where Rim was, why didn't you see him?" he inquired. "He thought he'd lost everyone, he was miserable-"
"I couldn't." Sa'akah put in sharply. Hafa opened his mouth to object and was quickly silenced by a vehement and vaguely threatening glance in his direction. "I couldn't." he repeated, more firmly. "We're leaving it at that."
Across the room, the vein warbled somewhat, then thinned out. It resumed its normal and endless flow soon after. Hafa drank his tea. He felt his string of question-asking was effectively over. He would get no more out of Sa'akah than the man was willing to part with, and it was obvious that the well had run dry.
Hafa set his empty cup down and carefully got up, his head spinning only minimally. His eyes were trained on the time vein, remembering something Sa'akah had said just after they'd entered the room.
"Before, you said that it 'shouldn't be doing that'," Hafa said. "Did you mean the distortion?"
Without even a sidelong glance in his direction, Sa'akah grabbed up his staff and approached the vein. Hafa followed him.
"Until five months ago, the stream had been constant and unchanging. It's always been that way. Like I said, it's nothing more than a visual representation of time, and time never changes."
"What would make it start behaving differently?" Hafa asked.
Sa'akah heaved a sigh. "I have a few ideas. Once I'd heard everything that happened at the palace, pieces fell into place." He glanced at Hafa. "Siraj al Din told me that Sharik summoned hoards of djinn within a Pentacle of Solomon. Something like that must have caused a quake across the Planes. That circle was never meant to be used."
Hafa remembered running through the palace halls, seeing distortions in the air. He had felt the two worlds - both djinn and human - grinding against one another. Once Makarim had ordered all of the djinn back to the Other World, Hafa assumed the damage had been reversed.
"They overlapped. I remember." Hafa said.
"The first Unholy Event." Sa'akah continued. "The second was a djinn soul becoming mortal. The third was Rim's revival."
"Unholy Events?" Hafa repeated, somewhat repugnantly.
"That's what the eagles call the incidents that lead to the collapse of time and reality. They're positive it will be the end of everything."
Hafa stared at Sa'akah, and then at the vein. He wasn't sure what to say. He didn't want to think something like that was possible, but after everything he'd seen, he was inclined to believe it. Just that morning Ghazi had made mention of the sun's premature rise, and Hafa had been dismissing the effects for some time as mortal error.
"Do you believe that?"
"The evidence is right in front of us." Sa'akah pointed out. "You haven't seen the Other World as of late. It's crumbling. The effects will continue to worsen until time unwinds and the reality we know breaks down completely." The vein shivered, perhaps in anticipation.
Hafa shook his head and stepped away from the vein. "Why are you telling me all of this?" he asked earnestly. "I still don't understand. What can I do to fix this? To fix anything?"
Sa'akah's eyes shifted to hold Hafa's troubled gaze. "Now that I've explained everything, I need a favor from you."
Hafa nearly laughed. "A favor?"
The next words were said carefully, but with the casual air of two men discussing the weather. "There's no delicate way to say it. The body you've stolen needs to be returned to the sands. Your soul doesn't belong in this world." He sounded vaguely rueful. "I'm asking you to move on."
The vein pulsed violently and then went quiet. Hafa wondered if time was sentient or perhaps had a twisted sense of humor, though he supposed not. Sa'akah's words left him in a muddled state of indignance. What he was suggesting was reasonable, and this is what clawed at Hafa the most. After everything he'd learned and everything he'd felt these last few months, he knew Sa'akah was right. He shouldn't exist. He had no right to claim this body as his own. Still, he felt a rush of fear for his life that was so intoxicatingly new and inherently human it convinced him that he still wanted to live. Death used to mean so little to him and now it held such a terrifying weight. Decisively, Hafa took a step backward.
"You brought me here to ask me to die?" Hafa asked angrily.
Sa'akah made no move toward him. "More or less. I needed to tell you about Rim, as well, but I figured I'd slip in the whole saving the world thing while we were at it."
"You can't just guilt me into giving up my life-"
"I'm not trying to guilt you." Sa'akah said firmly, evenly. "Do you not understand how serious this situation is? If we don't attempt to correct the events that led to this, we're dooming everyone to die."
"How do you even know something like that will change anything?" Hafa challenged bitterly. Sa'akah frowned.
"I don't. Trying to correct the Unholy Events is the only option I can see. If we do nothing, everyone still dies."
Sa'akah's words cut into Hafa life a cold knife. Hafa thought of Makarim, Rim, Rani, Ru'a and everyone else who was important to him. He couldn't stand the thought of anything happening to them. His fear vanished, replaced with despair. He didn't want to die. Even now, as he looked at his reflection in the glass, acutely aware that his body was not his own, he had grown to enjoy being alive.
Somewhere along the way, he had started to think of his future. Maybe 'daydreaming' was a better term for it. He thought of finding Rim and bringing him back to the city, living with Makarim, passing his days working with Makarim in his shop and helping to raise Rani and Ru'a. He wanted to talk more with Najiya and Reem. He wanted to see Rim and Ghazi smile together like they used to. There were so many things he wanted out of his life, even if he knew he'd be forced to live with a sizable hole inside of him, never feeling like a complete being.
He wanted to live, but he wanted the others to live more. If he could ensure that the rest of them survived…
"I'm not going to force you to do anything," Sa'akah said with a sigh, breaking Hafa from his thoughts. "Despite what opinion you may hold of me, I don't take any joy in asking this of you."
Hafa turned away from his reflection. "What about Rim? Are you going to ask the same of him?"
Sa'akah tapped his staff against the ground, and all around them the glowing orbs fizzled out, casting the room in shadow. The time vein seemed to radiate its own light, more soft and pulsating than it was illuminating; Sa'akah turned to face the door as if preparing to leave, but he remained motionless for some time.
"Would you want me to?" he finally asked.
"No." Hafa answered firmly.
Sa'akah laughed softly. "Do you think ill of me that I would ask you to die so easily, but could never bring myself to ask Rim the same?"
Hafa said nothing. He had endured unfounded bitterness toward Sa'akah in ways he could neither put into words nor explain to himself, but now he only felt relief. Somehow, he knew Sa'akah could never ask Rim to give up his life. Perhaps in that one way the two of them were exactly alike.
"I'll give you time to think everything over. I don't mean to rush you, but I'm not sure how much time we have left to decide… I'd appreciate it if you could keep the vital bits of our conversation to yourself, for now. Especially from Rim." Sa'akah began walking toward the door, his footsteps ringing sharply through the chamber. "Come. It's time for you to leave."
Hafa followed him, his feet heavy. He was eager to leave, but he wasn't quite sure what do once he was out.
"You're that confident that Rim will be found?"
"I believe if Aini is out there, he'll have the best chance," Sa'akah said thoughtfully. "He's always been sensitive to the mystical and unseen."
Just as the men emptied into the hall, a shrieking cry from above caused both of them to stop. Hafa glanced at the ceiling, looking around them; faintly, he could hear the beating of massive wings outside the palace walls.
Sa'akah frowned at the ceiling. "Someone has come for you, it seems."
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.
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He was unsure how long he'd been riding, but the sun was now perched above his left hand opposed to the right, and a cool evening breeze was beginning to blow.
There had been no sign of a specter, man nor dog; nothing as far as Aini could see, and he was beginning to wonder if he had been seeing things before. It was entirely possible, given all he had experienced earlier in the day. Even so, he could still feel the invisible tug pulling him from an unknown source, and it was this strong feeling that forced him to continue even though he had half a mind to turn back.
Finally, something besides sand and sky caught Aini's eye. He was coming up on a site littered with pieces of stone and wood. From afar it resembled an old grave site; the entire area seemed to exude an intense melancholy that supported this, and accompanying it, a strong nostalgia. Aini slowed his horse once they'd reached the site, dismounting. Though he didn't know why, his heart was pounding so hard he thought it might burst.
It appeared to be a ruined village, long forgotten and blanketed by sand. Aini tethered his horse to a decimated stone wall that had crumbled so badly one could no longer tell what it used to protect. As he walked among the burnt wreckage, stepping over charred remains of houses and wagons, he realized why he felt so discorded. It had been several years, but it wasn't easily forgotten. His feet knew their way around the village even after all this time.
Looking around, Aini was surprised how small the area looked. With the village gone and half-buried in sand, he could easily spot the Corys River and the far-off rolling dunes to the north without even moving from where he stood. His eyes following the river, Aini's breath caught in his throat. A large, twisted tree stood just where it always had, untouched by the fire and undisturbed by the elements. Standing next to the tree, looking up at it, was Rim.
Aini wanted to slap himself to prove he was really awake, but he couldn't move. He felt like a tree himself, rooted to the spot, his limbs made of heavy wood. He expected that when he finally saw Rim again, he would immediately be filled with relief and joyousness beyond imagination; the opposite proved to be true. He was terrified. If he moved, if he breathed too loudly, would Rim vanish? Would all of this turn out to be a dream if he tried calling out?
Perhaps feeling eyes on him, Rim turned, his hair and robe catching in the breeze. When their eyes met, Aini was positive his heart had stopped. He opened his mouth to say something, but only a squeak tumbled out.
Rim's expression was unchanged, listless. A moment later he had turned back to face the tree. Aini's heart promptly deflated. The reality of the situation was beginning to sink in, and now a new fear settled in him. Rim had looked right at him, he'd seen him, but instead of being elated he had merely looked disappointed.
"R-Rim!" Aini called, his voice trembling, his legs still immobile. He saw Rim start. A second time Rim turned, this time with the distinct look of someone who had just been abruptly awakened from a frightening dream. His eyes blown wide, he stared at Aini for some time in a shocked silence. Aini wondered if he'd looked like that just moments ago.
Rim stepped forward uncertainly, unblinking. "Aini…?"
Hearing Rim's voice seemed to break whatever spell had his legs locked. Without another thought Aini tore across the wreckage, his heart racing so fast his chest burned. Rim was too stunned to meet him but caught the boy in his arms; Aini clenched his fists in Rim's robes, his eyes filling with tears.
"Rim… Rim...!" Aini couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his sand-dusted cheeks, but he barely noticed them. It was really Rim. He looked the same as last Aini had seen him, though his lips were dry and cracked and his skin was tanned a handsome shade of brown, no longer the elegant pale complexion that came from years of living in the palace.
Rim said nothing for several moments, though his hands moved to touch Aini's cheek, his jaw, his lips and brush gently through his hair; when he seemed wholly convinced that the Aini in front of him was real, Rim's eyes shimmered with water.
"It's… really you…" Rim sobbed, barely above a whisper.
They embraced and cried. Aini never remembered crying so much, even after the village burned down. His shoulders heaved with heavy sobs, his face buried in Rim's chest to muffle his pitiful sounds. The two of them sank to their knees, neither one of them strong enough at present to support the other, and Rim tightened his hold around Aini's shoulders. He pressed his face against Aini's silver hair; he withheld a sob and struggled to speak.
"I saw you… so many times… it was never real. Not once..."
Aini gripped him more tightly. "I'm real," he sobbed into Rim's robes. "I promise I'm real…"
The two held each other for a time, weary from relief, overcome with happiness. Rim sighed shakily. "I still can't believe it… How did you find me?"
Wiping his face on his sleeve, Aini chuckled. "I don't really have an answer. I thought I saw someone far away, so I followed. I can't explain why I did it, but…" Despite his attempts to stop crying, hot tears continued to obscure his vision, and he quickly wiped them away. "...I'm so glad I did…" Rim sank back in the sand, exhausted, and Aini settled on his knees between Rim's thighs. "Are you okay?" he asked in sudden concern.
Rim smiled. "Yeah. I just… I'm still in shock, I think."
"I don't just mean that. We searched for you for so long… This whole time, you've been alone. Have you been eating? Staying cool? It must have been so hard, surviving out here all this time…!"
He had eaten something two days ago, though he barely remembered what it was, and he had grown so used to hunger pangs he no longer felt the pain in his stomach. Rim lacked the courage to tell Aini that he had expired twice since his time banished to the sands - once from starvation and once from freezing to death - both times having to endure the uncomfortable resurrection process. Telling Aini served no purpose now other than to upset him.
"I won't say it's been easy. How long was I gone?"
"About five months."
"Five months…" Rim mused, shaking his head. "It feels like it's been much, much longer."
Biting down on his bottom lip, Aini gently touched Rim's face, tracing his fingertips along his jaw. His vivid blue eyes wavered with water. "I'm so sorry… it took us so long to find you…"
Beyond the Corys River the sun was dipping low in the sky, obscured behind a veil of sparse white clouds. The last light of day was funneling upwards in gentle hues of orange, casting long shadows over the village that bent and twisted as the light began to disappear. Rim kissed Aini just as the shadow from the giant tree swallowed them up.
It was like reliving their first kiss, awkward and clumsy, teeth knocking, but overwhelmingly warm and exciting. Aini felt younger, inexperienced, his stomach fluttering with an almost painful earnest. He wasn't sure if it was their time apart or if it was the fact that it was his first time kissing Rim without feeling that oppressive black mist behind Rim's shoulders. Whatever the reason, kissing Rim felt new and exhilarating.
Aini slid his arms over Rim's shoulders, emptying months worth of affection and longing into the kiss. Very quickly the tempo changed into something messy and desperate, Rim's fingers trailing through Aini's hair, Aini working to close the distance between their bodies by climbing into Rim's lap. As Aini opened his mouth to allow Rim's tongue passage, he realized hazily that he never remembered being kissed like this. Even in their most intimate moments he had never felt so desired, so needed. He was being kissed by the Rim he fell in love with.
Rim's hands found anchorage on Aini's slim hips, holding him firmly as his tongue trailed over Aini's and licked the boy's lips. Aini shuddered, responding with more vigor. His body was radiating more heat than the quickly fading sun, and it was growing harder to think clearly as the seconds ticked on with Rim's lips and tongue working together to draw every last breath from his lungs.
When finally they parted, panting and flushed, Rim spoke softly. "I'm sorry…"
It was only two words but Aini could barely understand them, his head felt so light and foggy. "Mm?"
Rim looked somewhat abashed. "I never got to tell you that I was sorry for how I treated you. You deserved so much better, you still do-"
Aini covered Rim's mouth with his fingers. He was too feeling too content to listen to Rim's apologizes, or dwell on things that happened in the past. He realized that Rim's solitude these last months must have left him with lots of time to mull over his misdeeds and regrets, but Aini had never once blamed him for anything.
"I don't want anything other than you," Aini assured. "No one blames you for any of it. You saved Hafa's life, and you saved all of us, too. Hafa and the others told us everything that happened."
Rim flushed, this time in embarrassment. He absently scratched the back of his neck. "It wasn't like I had a lot of options at the time…" His eyes blew open with a sudden thought. "Wait, how is everyone? What happened after I… You know, died?" It was still a strange thing to say, after all this time.
Perhaps unconsciously, Aini placed a hand on Rim's chest, just over his heart, where he'd been told Rim had been gouged. "Everyone's fine. The palace is gone, though… It crumbled when Makarim put all the water back where it belonged." Aini's expression brightened. "It's been a little while since we've been back there, but everyone was just fine last we saw them."
"Ghazi?" Rim asked anxiously.
"She's been traveling with Hafa, Miss Maha and I, looking for you." Aini said. "She should be back at the city right now, unless Miss Maha has…" Aini trailed off and his breath caught in his throat, nearly making him choke. "Shit! I completely forgot!"
"Forgot what?" Rim asked, perking a brow.
"Hafa!" Aini cried, fisting the front of Rim's robes. "He was taken by giant eagles to a palace out in the middle of no where!"
Rim wasn't sure how to react, momentarily jarred by such a ridiculous statement. "He was what?"
Aini jumped to his feet, helping Rim to stand. "It sounds a little insane now that I've said it outloud, but we all saw it happen. Miss Maha was coming back to see if she could get Hafa out of there, but…" Aini drew his bottom lip between his teeth and glanced back the way he'd come. His horse was still tethered to the wall, nosing lazily through the sand. "It's gotten so late."
"Giant eagles, huh," Rim sighed. He scratched his nails through his hair. "How the hell did he get caught up in something like that?"
Aini glanced at Rim, his finger's seeking Rim's hand, which he gently clasped. "Are you angry at Hafa? For… You know… What he did? I mean, even though it saved you?"
Rim's gaze dropped to the ground, and his hand squeezed Aini's lightly. "No. Maybe I was for just a second when I was out there alone, only because my time out here has been so miserable. But after I reminded myself about what I put him through…" Rim shook his head. "It really boils down to whether I want to be alive or dead, and for a while, I wasn't sure which one I preferred." His eyes found Aini's, and he smiled. "Everything feels different now, though. I never thought I'd ever see any of you ever again. I couldn't be this happy if I was dead."
Aini felt another rush of elation flow through him, and he nearly felt like he could cry again.
"You know how to get back to that palace, right? We should go and see if we can help. Giant eagles, though… They must have been djinn."
"Ghuls," Aini nodded. "Miss Maha thinks Hafa will be okay, since he has Solomon's ring, but… It's still nerve-wracking." Aini glanced behind them at the sun, which had completely vanished, the moon vigilantly taking its place. The heat from the day was seeping away, leaving the sand cold as the air started to grow chilly. Aini sighed. "Soon it will be too cold to travel. There's plenty of wood… We should build a fire and rest for now."
Rim rubbed his bare arms. "That might be a good idea. Before you showed up, I was thinking of finding a way to get into our tree for the night."
Aini laughed nostalgically. "We're so much bigger than we used to be, we would never fit."
"Probably not," Rim admitted.
"I have two beds and plenty of food, too," Aini said. "If nothing else, we'll have a comfortable night."
The idea of a warm place to rest his head and fresh food nearly caused Rim's head to spin with disbelief. If felt like a lifetime since he'd been granted such comforts, especially since they had always come so easily to him before.
"We'll be warmer if we just share a bed, right?" Rim suggested with a grin. Aini's face flushed scarlet; he diverted his gaze purposefully toward his horse, starting off in that direction while impatiently pulling Rim's hand.
"L-let's get a fire set up, then," he stuttered.
.
.
Author's Note:
...consider this chapter "well, shit" part 2. Only for Hafa though. Aini and Rim are doing pretty okay right now. Better than expected.
I forgot to throw in some notes in the last chapter. I was too distracted by all the character lives I was ruining.
Ghul: Shape-shifting djinn who are attracted to ruins and death. They prefer the form of hyenas, and enjoy tearing their victims to pieces. Generally considered assholes. They are the enemy of the Jann.
Palace without entrance: The idea is from an ancient story called "The Palace of the Eagles" or less frequently titled "The Palace With no Entrance" that I had stumbled across a couple of times when researching King Solomon. I've read three different versions of it, all of them radically different aside from a few key elements. (One of them didn't even name Solomon as the king in the story.) As it stands I can't find an original source to the story. It's credited as a 'legend'.
Like Sa'akah mentioned in the last chapter, the palace belonged to Shaddad, son of Ad, and despite his many triumphs and victories he could not avoid the inevitability of death. King Solomon and his men found the palace and were able to enter because of his magic ring, after having asked some ancient eagles where the entrance might be.
I'm taking ENORMOUS liberties with this story, to the point where it will be unrecognizable, (aside from the bit about Shaddad,) but I still felt it necessary to explain where I drew inspiration from. If you're interested in reading a very, VERY Cliffs Note-y version of the legend yourself, here's a vaguely kiddie version: [This stupid site won't let me post URLs, but the link is posted on A03] dialogue is a little bit silly but it gives you the gist.