It began with the gentle flirtatious movement of the wind serenading the sand. Oblivious to its plan, the sand shyly flirted back. It became a seductive dance that soon turned into a game. At first, nothing seemed out of place. The wind was tender and gracious in its movement.
Suddenly, its facade fell once the sand was completely charmed. The fine grain of sand was no longer enough to satisfy its hunger. Hard rocks and grain became victims of ephemeral flurries. The tango was broken as was the initial magic of a lover coaxing its target of interest.
As the wind increased in strength, the air was filled with yellow sand dust. Its initial clarity was lost in a blanket of oppressive and opulent sand in space. The sand was not prepared for the whirlwind that carried it and played harder creating a harsh reality.
A monster that threatened to cover and suffocate everything in its way. The cloud was completely shrouded, no amount of light could penetrate through the thick layer of sand. Thus a sandstorm was born. Unlike the usual sand dust, the Bedouins were left unprepared.
This was nothing new to the people. It was an occurrence that could be considered quite normal, except this time, it was induced. Someone powerful was visiting them for reasons unknown to them. Fear was immediately instilled in their hearts.
The cries of the children and yelling filled the camp where they dwelled. Mothers ran around trying to bring their children to safety. Men ensured that their horses and camels were safe before seeking refuge. These animals were their main source of survival in the desert.
Amid the thick layers of swirling sand, the only visible things were the long beautiful necks of camels. Leading the herd of five strong camels, a figure dressed in black sat, completely covered except for his black orbs.
Prowling beside him was another whose posture spoke of grace and regal bearing. He was draped in the customary attire of the Bedouins. A silver sleeveless gown was worn over his long white tunic. The most outstanding piece on his body was his turban.
It matched the embroidery on his silver gown and was held in place by a heavy silver coil. With the turban wrapped around his face, his hazel orbs were the only features that could be discerned. Closely riding beside him was another whose demur was nothing short of nobility.
Two more camels rode behind them in silence. The five figures came to an abrupt stop at the main entrance to the village. The man garbed in black looked towards the hazel orbs. "We are here. How much longer do you need the cover of the sandstorm to finish your business? I have to get back soon."
The nobleman spoke before the other. "Zakariya, I never knew a Jinn could be impatient. We just got here brother. However, you are right. We should finish the task at hand as quickly as possible. My prince, how long do you think it would take?"
Four pairs of eyes fell on the man riding at the group's center. His distant look didn't change nor did his demur. The air around him shifted, suddenly turning cold. When he eventually spoke, his voice was calm yet authoritative.
"Zakariya, this matter carries a lot of weight for both our kind. I believe it's in your best interest to be patient for I can not force things on them. Their lives are hard as it is. I can only be diplomatic in this matter. Yusuf, you shouldn't tease a jinn. Who knows if he decides to blow you off into space?"
It was supposed to be a joke which came out stiff and awkward. That made it even funnier evoking laughter in the two men. The royal guards at the back could only bite their tongues. They wouldn't dare laugh at their prince openly.
"Let's go inside. It's time." The camels walked through the open gates leisurely. The storm was still going rough and steady. Regardless, the group of five was unaffected by it. They were protected by magic. With a jinn in their midst, it was especially convenient.
***
Inside one of the most luxurious tents, an old man sat on a heavy mat leaning against the wall. His old eyes were filled with profound wisdom. In one hand, he held a cup of steaming coffee that would be raised to his lips from time to time.
Sitting around him were four other men, all in their prime of age. Just like the sheikh, they had their cups in their hands, sipping on their coffee. A veiled woman stood to the side, occasionally refilling their cups. Behind the brave front they had put on, the elders were filled with tension and worry.
They waited nervously for their guests to approach. A part of them, willed the guest to hurry up for the anxiety gnawing at them. The other part willed them to take their time until their nerves were relaxed and they were in control again.
Regardless of it all, they were prepared to receive their guests. A moment later, several heavy footsteps came to a halt outside the heavy tent. They sat upright, waiting for the guests to introduce themselves. This was their custom.
Friends or foes, it didn't matter. When a guest appeared, they were obliged to treat them with kindness and hospitality. What they didn't expect, however, was for their guest to be the most revered prince of the entire land.
The pride of the Kingdom of Almaas. The old sheikh stood abruptly, hands shaking as he attempted to keep the cup away. The others weren't as composed as he was. The sound of breaking cups filled the tent, with no one paying attention to them.
On cue, the Sheikh walked out, followed by the others. The guest waited to be welcomed by their hosts. Albeit their abrupt visit, there was no fear of rejection. Hazel orbs bore into the entrance of the tent, ready to scrutinize the first to step out.
Black piercing orbs collided with cold hazel ones. The gaunt old sheikh maintained eye contact. Despite the gown covering his body, the prince was certain that the man was anything but weak. Beneath the cover of the clothes, he was hard-bodied and sinewy without a doubt.
He didn't miss the hawk-like nose and sharp eagle eyes either. How did he observe this when his gaze barely left the man? It was a rare skill the royal prince possessed. Just like a predator, his gaze would stay fixed on his target while his mind roamed around in search of a weakness.
"Peace be upon you. Welcome to our humble abode."
The guard who formally introduced the prince and the rest stepped back. "Peace be upon you as well. Our sincerest apology for the way we made our presence known. It was inevitable. We shall leave your grounds as soon as our business is over. Do you mind if we take a few minutes of your time?"
The sheikh gestured for their guest to come in. They didn't fail to notice how the storm was still going but hardly affecting the newcomers. The sheikh fisted his hand hidden beneath his gown. The smile on his face wasn't sincere which the prince took notice of.
They walked inside and settled on one side of the heavy mat on the floor. Out of politeness, the prince loosened the part of his turban that was wrapped around his face. The elders in the room gasped, never having laid eyes on the man before.
Zuneir, the heir and the crown prince of the kingdom of Almaas. He was known mostly for two things in the entire world. His fearlessness and his good looks. Several poets have dedicated poems to these two traits he possessed.
He smirked. 'Well, it seems this face serves a purpose even with the elderly,' he thought. Zuneir stayed silent waiting for his hosts to break out of their shock. Once that happened, fresh snacks were served with coffee. The sheikh cleared his throat and officially welcomed his guests.
"My prince, we apologize for the poor reception. You caught us quite unprepared. I hope that you came in peace." In other words, he was telling his guests that their presence didn't impress them at all. It brought discomfort to his people and that was enough to put the prince on his list of unwelcome guests.
Unlike the rest of the world which seemed to bow down to the whims of the prince, the sheikh was known for his stubbornness. His decisions weren't swayed by just anyone. He was powerful in his own right. The extent of the power he held was unknown to the world.
Only a trusted few knew of him. Zuneir managed to get on his bad books with how he made an entrance. The sheikh didn't appreciate people pulling their weight around. To be fair, Zuneir rarely met a person who could say no to his face. Very few could do that and live to see the next day.
Taking in the sheikh's words, the prince's gaze turned even colder if possible. He could tell that his mission would be harder than he had anticipated. "My elders, I apologize once again for the inconvenience caused. The urgency of the matter contributed to how we barged in. I hope you can forgive our insolence."
Abdullah was his name. The old man whose eyes saw beyond the external appearance. His old experienced eyes scrutinized the prince and he made a conclusion. The prince was too proud to sincerely apologize. Mere words did nothing for him. He decided there and then that whatever had brought them to his door, he would reject without a thought.
"Go on, My prince. Let's get started. My people are uncomfortable as it is. " It was then that another woman walked in carrying a tray filled with fresh fruits diced expertly and a jug filled with fresh fruit juice.She was unlike the one who had served the men before.
Her entrance attracted the attention of all the men except for the prince. Zakariya, the Jinn King, lost his composure for a second before he schooled his features. Yusuf glanced once and looked away. The guards lowered their gazes after the initial glance with difficulty.
Abdullah's men subtly acknowledged her presence. This didn't go unnoticed by the prince who still ignored the woman. He didn't give women a lot of importance. The new arrival was someone important to be acknowledged by the elders.
He thought it was beneath him to give her his attention. The first thought that came to mind was that the sheikh had intentionally asked the aid to serve to win his favor. It wasn't new to him. Many attempted and failed.
The woman served them all. Upon finishing her task, she stood straight behind the elders looking away from the men. Her gown covered every inch of her body. Even her eyes were hidden behind the Burka she wore.
Zuneir didn't like the woman's presence. "I apologize in advance if you will be offended by what I am going to say. The topic of discussion is quite sensitive. Would you be kind enough to send your attendee away? I would be much more comfortable with her gone. Thank you."
Zuneir had no idea that his words had managed to give him the second strike. Abdullah spoke without any hesitation."I would also like to apologize in advance as well. She stays. Whether you want to complete your mission or not is up to you. I trust my people."