CHAPTER TWENT-FOUR

YUSUF AND HIS ENTIRE VILLAGE began to worry for Sokath. Days had stretched into weeks and there was no sign from the burning sand nor sun that his son would return. He did not want to fear the worst. Losing his only daughter was enough, but losing his strongest son would surely be the tipping point. Yusuf was an hourglass, the last grains falling before he had to shatter.

His eyes did not squint as he looked at the rising sun, his irises used to the warm and bright glow. It would take more than the burning ferno to make him turn away.

As he inhaled the sand filled air, he realised what to do. Yusuf had to travel to Yaheisea with his army behind him. As he exhaled, he felt a firm hand on his shoulder.

The traveler turned to see his wife, pale and thin, her brown eyes strong and powerful. Then, he remembered why he fell in love with Jada.

"Have faith in your son," she crafted out carefully, "and have hope that he will execute his plan."

Yusuf's hand went on top of Jada's. "But what if he needs help or finds himself in danger? What if the Caliph-"

She closed her eyes, shaking her head at the sun. "Maybe it's because Zeeda is the oldest, and perhaps it's the fact that Sokath is the second oldest, but I always knew you favored her far more than the rest. He never had the love of a father you gave to our daughter, nor the support. So please, just this once, let him make you proud by avenging Mazeeda and the thousands before her."

"No, I-"

"We will wait for his signal just as we promised, yes?"

Yusuf simply pulled away from Jada and walked away without a single word.

THE FALLING SUN BEHIND THE sand dunes turned everything it touched gold. Sunsets in Yaheisea were the most beautiful in all the four lands, something the Caliph used to take great pride over. Now, he favored the moon much more.

That didn't matter to Sokath, not when he had all the intentions to end the king's reign and everything and everyone that followed suit blindly.

Zaid was slowed to a stop as the Malika's oldest brother dismounted his horse, running his calloused palm along the female's neck. He made camp right out of the lively city life.

It baffled him, left him confused as to why such a city that was so welcoming and bursting with such excitement be ruled under a murderous king. He wondered how Mazeeda was able to stay alive all this time without being held at knife point.

He exhaled slowly as he looked at the bow and arrow laying across from him. Sokath's tired face broke into a small smile at the memory the object held.

‘Am I holding it right?’ Mazeeda's voice was laced with excitement and thrill as Sokath guided her hands into the right places on the bow.

‘You are,’ Sokath reassured her all those years ago when he was only twelve and she fourteen. He stepped back and examined her posture. ‘You're rigid as the desert's weather. Relax your shoulders, yes?’

"I am." Her muscles did not give away one bit. ‘So tell me the next step.’

‘I just said for you to relax your shoulders, you look like grandma.’ He walked behind his sister and pinched her shoulders.

The oldest sibling shrieked and stepped away. ‘Are you going to teach me or refuse like father?’

He sighed out a laugh. ‘Please try to understand our father, his views on where women should stand in society is traditional, it's what he grew up knowing. Do believe me when I say that he is trying to be more objective towards women for the sake of our village.’

‘He only does so now that he's been chosen as the leader. If Rashid had not risked his life during that sandstorm for that camel, our father would not be in the position he is now.’

‘Mazeeda, he never wanted this position, you of all people should know that. He was just a man with a wife and a family and the best caravan Evilla has ever seen in two decades. Our people have spoken; they chose our father for a reason, not because he craves for power.’

‘Maybe not now, but he will later. That’s how power works, it always starts as a humble thing before it turns into a poisonous entity. In the end, isn’t that what we want? To have some type of power we can hold onto, something we make up so we can use it to justify the things we need to have control over.’

Sokath stared at his oldest sibling, fascinated and curious to how mature her thinking was. He wondered, as he started at those frowns that were formed through that strong scowl, when she became this way, for she was too young to be stressing over things adults should be stressing over so children like them wouldn’t have a care in the world. Only then did he realise, as he watched her struggle to pull the bowstring back to her chin, that he was going to give up his childhood for her so she could grow up like any child in Evilla.

“I will fix this,” he whispered into the cold air as he looked down at the bow he gripped fiercely. With a spark from the two flint stones, Sokath set the tip of the arrow aflame before shooting it towards the endless night. “It’s time for you to come home Mazeeda.”

MAZEEDA STARED AT HERSELF THROUGH the fogged-up mirror, she watched the water glisten down all the curves and ridges that her naked body displayed. The storyteller took note of her disappearing hennas that once branded her body. She began to wonder if Khai's henna —if he bore any—were slowly fading away as well.

Sighing, she grabbed the robe off the hook and wrapped it against herself. The material was smooth and cool against her warm skin from the jasmine bath. Even months into the marriage, the Calipha was still not used to the smell. She made a mental note to ask Khai why he insisted on such a scent.

Nylah and Adelah stood at the center of the lavish room, holding out her nightgown of teal and ash brown.

"Anything from Khai?" Mazeeda asked as she sat in front of the mirror to her her hair combed out.

Nylah shook her head as she dipped her fingers into the coconut oil and applied a generous amount onto the storyteller's roots. "As of yesterday, nothing. He's still recovering if that eases your mind."

It did nothing of that sort, but the queen brushed it aside. "And Sinbad? Any word from him?"

The twin sisters looked at each other through the mirror's reflection. "In his room these days" Adelah coughed out.

"Ah," Mazeeda breathed out slowly. She was constantly wondering about his whereabouts since that day, if he felt guilty or if he meant every word. If what the twins said was true, then she would have to seek him out herself. The queen stepped into her nightgown and turned around so the strings could be fastened. “What is his agenda tomorrow?”

“We only keep tabs on you and the Caliph, my lady,” Nylah answered carefully, her attention fully drawn onto the knot she was making. “I could sweep the halls and find out if you wish.”

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you.” She bowed slightly.

Adelah nodded. “If that is all for now, you know how to summon us. Goodnight.”

Mazeeda watched as the heavy, sturdy doors closed shut with a click before she began to count to exactly thirty-two. Only then did she approach the door, closing it behind her as she made her way through the dimly lit hallway.

Her steps were light and measured, as if she were back in the desert, hunting with her three brothers for their next meal to bring home. Before she knew it, she was in front of another door that led right to the westside of the courtyard.

The cool and silky sensation of the grass told her that she was outside, the rhythmic sound of the fountain was like the warm blanket the sun set on her in the desert, the chirps nearby were a close enough second to her mother’s lullaby.

The queen tilted her head back, sighing out as she tried to clear her mind, observing her breath becoming one with the air. Nights in the desert were always cruel and unforgiving unlike day, but the nights in Yaheisea were much easier and nicer to her.

“Hello.”

Mazeeda turned to the youthful and pitchy voice, knowing quite well who it was by now. “Quite late to be out, yes, Sonya?”

She smiled as she made her way to the Calipha. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“We both couldn’t sleep,” Amon commented as he caught up to his daughter for a late night walk. “I can assume that you couldn’t as well.”

“I have too many thoughts in my mind to silence them for the night.” Mazeeda looked at her husband’s uncle, how tired he alwayslooked. His hair was ungroomed and even in the poor lighting, his eyes had bags that carried too many worries.

“On Khai?” Amon presumed.

She nodded, watching Sonya stroll to the water fountain. “On him. On Sinbad. On many other things. But yes, him.”

A small understanding smile coated his face; as well as… nostalgia. Not on his past, but rather on Khai and Mazeeda’s. He was often wondering these days why and how he and his nephew were willing to keep the darkest secret from everyone they loved. But it was moments like these, where he felt the Calipha’s sincerity and concern for Khai, that he understood why the king risked it all for her.

“A shooting star,” Sonya said in awe, her long, slender finger followed it. The young child had never encountered one before, blessed to have witnessed it.

Amon’s thought spindled to a stop as he looked up to find a glistening red dot fly across the sky perfectly, perhaps too perfectly.

The Malika stiffened. She knew that flicker of red anywhere, knew the perfect arch it made before slowly diminishing into the endless night. That’s not a shooting star, Mazeeda thought.

“That’s not a shooting star,” Amon said in chorus.

They looked at each other in that moment, knowing very well that between the two, one of them would have to break the news to the king. The worst part was, neither one of them wanted to.

Yusuf and his wife were preparing for bed when Rain barged in, breathless from what he was doing before.

“What is it?” Jada asked, getting up from her position.

“Come,” their son beckoned, opening the flap wider for them. “Quickly.”

Both parents followed his youngest child for a brief moment before halting to a stop.

“Look,” is all that Toha had to say for his father to understand.

Everything turned deafening silent as Yusuf watch the burning arrow crash into the sand only miles away from them.

“Is it Sokath?” Toha asked.

“Yes,” he sighed out, disappointed in his oldest son, but not at all surprised.

“What does it mean?”

Yusuf pivoted and began to walk back to his tent. “It means that he failed to kill the king and needs our help.” He was furious at Sokath to the point that he could choke on sand and survive. This was exactly why he didn’t want his son to handle it himself, the leader knew that there would be a mistake that could cost them everything. This was it. “He puts me to shame,” he mumbled to himself.

For Jada, all she could do was hug herself for comfort. “Oh Sokath,” she whispered softly, “what have you done?”

|AUTHOR'S NOTE|

finally an update in monthssssssss. i honestly was about to give up on this book bc of the slump i was going through.

i can't promise when my next update will be or if there will be a solid schedule, but what i can say is that there will be updates moving on forward