Just a bit heads up, this chapter has violence in it and uh, bad words ._.; I changed the rating to warn people just in case. This one has been in my head all night, I actually woke up to write it.

I actually just changed the rating back to T after reading some other fanfiction. I get panicky with this stuff idk why, but after reading some mature/Teen stuff in this section I am going to keep this teen. If you think this should be rated M, pm me or send torches and pitchforks. Either way works :3.

"Wait! Bakr told us to stay he-", I curled my hands into fists, frustrated, frowning at the vanishing silhouette of my brother. I move my hands towards the window sill to pick up the eagle gilded dagger that Ikram had left behind. Picking the weapon up by the sheath, I took a step back as the metal object slipped right out of the leather shell that was holding it – cutting into the wood. It was a lot heavier than I had initially assumed it to be. I pry the dagger from its place and slowly place it back in its casing. I'll remember not to pick it up with the hilt facing the floor next time.

"Ah", I started for the door, realizing that Ikram had already left. I stood just outside, looking at the path my brother was running on. I ran as fast as I could in my jilbab, trying to follow. My slippers definitely were not made to run; I could feel stray stones pressing back up against my feet as they stepped on the dirt path. The dagger I was holding in my hands started to feel heavier and heavier. In a way, I was glad that father and brother talked me out into buying one – though it was not an argument I would have won. Father was being reasonable, and I was simply asking because Ikram had asked. Eventually my run slowed into a walk into halting completely to catch my breath. It was just too difficult to run in this dress! I look down, pulling at the skirt, shaking it with feeble attempts to clean it from the dust and dirt that clung on it. This was why I needed Ikram to wait, he always ran too fast! And he never listens to me! I tapped the front of my slippers on the road, in slight anger.

Over my own lungs trying to collect air, I heard the heavy breathing of another person. I turned to see that Bakr had followed me. Even though I was angry, there was a feeling of butterflies in my stomach. Oh no, I thought over and over as I realized just how much trouble I was about to be in – and Ikram! He had already gone! The aged man slowly walked towards me, his finger pointing but no words were spoken as he was too busy trying to catch his breath. The wrinkles around his eyes fixed into an angry frown.

"You were to stay inside!" Bakr coughed. "It is dangerous out here at night, and to think there are murderers on the loose within the middle district would be the day you two decide to run off! Where is your brother?"

"He left to see what happened, I ju-"

"That boy! The sheer impulsiveness that rings from his skull is astounding!" Bakr turns to me, "Leaving you in the house alone, thinking you wouldn't follow? I may be old but even I pay attention to details." I fixed my eyes towards the floor. Bakr shook his head, his hand placed on his forehead as if he had a headache. "Perhaps it is my fault for leaving you two alone in the first place."

"Asra, we are going back to the house now." Bakr placed his hand on my shoulder. Just then did I realize how dark it was getting, the sun ready to rest below the horizon. The sky now wore a dark purple hue. I glanced wearily at the shadows of evening, realizing that I was being stupid for running off after my brother. I was neither fast enough to catch up with my brother, nor was I strong enough to hold a simple weapon. I could not help but worry for mommy and now Ikram as well. I didn't want to cause trouble and I had done just that as I blindly decided to follow my brother through the streets of the city – and I did not even successfully find him. Father would be so angry. Bakr was already angry, and he would tell papa.

"Bakr, do you think mama and Ikram are okay?" I asked quietly.

"I was told the fighting started within the center of the market and on the edge of the higher city district. Your mother should be fine," Bakr reassured. "Your brother, Well, he'll be fine until I find him. If only he wrote as quickly as he moved and didn't run off at the first thought." I smiled a little at the statement. There were sounds of footsteps in the distance. Bakr stopped me.

It happened so quickly.

A man sprung from the blackness, the light of the coming moon reflected on the cold surface of his sword. Bakr grabbed the dagger in my hands, pulling it from the leather casing and cutting into the neck of the attacker but not before receiving the sword through his ribs. The rogue screamed, which quickly silenced into a gurgle as pools of blood spurted from his open throat. I clung to the eroded wall by the pathway, my nails digging into the hard stone, white in fear. Bakr pushed the dead man onto the floor, wheezing as he held his bleeding would. The red, crimson red – the world was so dark and yet I could see the blood as clear as day.

"Run, Asra!" more blood. Red and dripping, drops pooling on Bakr's grey beard. My body pulled me into a run, blindly in the dark as the fear of dying consumed my soul. My wide eyes had caught the last glimpse of my teacher, as another man had appeared and cut him down. The roads looked narrower as if they wanted to close in on me and trap me. It was night and the market area I was in empty. Still I ran in search of a light in the black world, anything to signify someone was home and could help me.

The rocks stabbed at my feet, but I could feel no discomfort with the amount of adrenaline coursing through my body.

I could hear words, footsteps that seemed to echo and echo within my head, getting louder and louder.

And louder.

I cried out as I fell, tripping over the long skirt of my dress. My face fell into the dirt. I scramble to get up; I could taste the metallic flavor of my blood as I had cut my lip. There was dirt in my fingers as I scraped the floor to hold myself. There was another taste in my mouth as I recall the images of the blood that spilled across the floor. The dying eyes of the man who assaulted us, glazing over as the last of his life left him.

I lurched over and vomited.

I was in tears, scared for my life – how quickly it could vanish by the steel of a cruel blade. I continued to throw up whatever I had eaten and when my stomach was empty, I could feel my stomach still trying to churn out nothing. I gasped for air while water fell from my face but I was too scared to cry, to whimper, and to make a sound. It didn't matter nothing mattered, I thought to myself as I heard footsteps enter from the distance. I was shaking, my teeth chattering not from the cold but from the violence reaction my body just had. One of the men pulled me from the ground.

"I can't tell if this is the girl we were looking for."

"It doesn't matter, the slaver will take her. They've accepted every bitch we've caught today"

My legs were wobbling. I was exhausted but I was afraid. I was no longer holding back my crying. I was thinking about momma and papa and how I wanted to see them. I had never wanted to see them so much – my heart was hurting from the wish. Then the hand that had me at the shoulder gave me a hard shake.

"Shut your trap girl" the slaver snapped as I quieted down – soft whimpering. "We aren't killing you. That old bastard killed one of my men. Don't give us another reason."

"Who would have guessed the chaos today would be such a benefit to us," One of the men laughed. The roads were no longer recognizable to me. The houses were getting scarcer; the group must have been taking me further out of the city, towards the outskirts of town. I stumbled on my feet but quickly fixed myself. In the distance I saw more men under the cover of darkness, swords in their hands.

Along with women, girls, and boys, all huddled quietly in the silent darkness.

The poor district, located on the outermost parts of town was a slum filled with thieves. Families that situated here lived in fear in the day as well as the night – for guards did not patrol here often, usually for their own protection. I never thought I'd ever be here; I just wanted to be home. With mother, father, Ikram, I thought over and over, mother, father, brother in circles, looping until my head hurt.

"The guards are too busy trying to find new boots to lick," a man spat. "Alright, split them up"

The man who was detaining me pushed me towards the group. I stumble forward, falling. Then there was movement. They pulled the group into fours. A woman helped me up and guided me into one and away from the swords that swung to hurry us. My eyes blinked into and out of reality, I tried to force them open but my eyelids kept trying to shut. I was tired, so tired. I want my mommy, papa…

It felt like I had closed my eyes for a moment, but as I opened my eyes – I was lying down. The floor was moving and I could hear the clopping of horse shoes on the sand. I glanced around, dawn was rising. The sun was waking to greet the world, shining bright, unaware of the events which happen under the cover of darkness. Its rays couldn't keep me warm. I turned my head and saw the woman who had helped me.

I looked around. Tired faces of children, some older, some my age, all huddled in the wagon. There were boxes stacked high up to the wagon covers to block the opening – to prevent any suspicion that the cart was holding kidnapped people.

"This will be a long trip, child." The woman said to me.

I just placed my head in my knees. There was nothing to say.