Book 1 - Sand
Part 2
This thread is intended to be paired with The Hourglass (1.2)
Saturday, February 4th, 2023
Paterazam, Dabaab 16th, 412
It had been over a week now, and Omar Naciri was genuinely starting to doubt Alkhatawf even existed. After all, the Sayaduuni were very passive, and despite their threatening name the Hook was too. In the 80 or so years they had existed, they hadn’t carried out a single noteworthy attack against Zakyn Petroleum Corporation, WEGEC’s subsidiary in the area. They hadn’t even incited mild resistance in the past 5 decades. Who knew? Maybe they had died out years ago, and he and Yufraan were out here in the desert chasing ghosts.
It’s not like he hadn’t planned for the possibility, but to be honest, his backup plan wasn’t that good. In her communiques, Azniv had said March 20th was the likely date of the attack, during the Alnahda celebrations - which would mean Omar and Yufraan would have just over a month to incite a people to revolution. And while Yufraan could do it, they’d still need supplies, transportation, et cetera, et cetera. Overall, it wasn’t his favorite idea.
For what seemed like the millionth time he looked out across the bare desert. He saw some saw palmettos in the distance, their vibrant green contrasting the soft yellowish sand and the bright blue cloudless sky. Silently, he pointed to Yufraan, who nodded. While saw palmettos could grow this far out, their presence usually meant a house; usually built around them. As they got closer, it became evident that this was a small homestead; a well was connected to a small irrigation system watering a variety of herbs, and a small house constructed from sandstone, wood, and adobe sat completing the scene. What was today again? Paterazam. Artisans like this usually went to sell their goods on Rahnam. Omar went up to the door and knocked one, two, three times.
“Coming!” came the sing-songy voice of an old woman from inside the house. Omar stepped back, and the door swung open to reveal a bare Arres aurian. “Arham, my friends. I was not expecting visitors today, but I am glad to see people here.”
“Apologies for the intrusion, mutj, but we were simply trekking through the desert when we noticed your homestead. My child and I simply wished to stop by; we know it can get lonely out here.” Omar looked at Yufraan to notice they had drawn a hood over their head, to obscure their identity. Probably for the best.
“Well, thank you for your kind wishes. It has been rather lonely since my wife passed, and our kids moved out to the city. Please, come in, enjoy a cup of tea, will you?” the old lady said, opening her door wide.
“Many thanks,” Omar said, walking into the small house with Yufraan following him.
The interior was extremely cozy, and Omar could tell it had been well-maintained even in the woman’s age. The main room had a small cooking area with a stove and cupboards, a drying rack, and of course a teapot. There was a sewing machine - non-electric, pressed against one wall, next to a small dining table with four chairs around it. A radio rested on a cupboard, playing some of the Urthvision XVIII finalist songs. There were two doors, leading to a bathroom and a bedroom. The most impressive feature was a grand rug covering much of the entryway, intricately woven in such a way that it seemed to glow gold as the sunlight hit it.
“Please, have a seat, my friends. Tell me, what are your names?”
“My name is Omar Isaawi. And this is my child, Malak Isaawi,” Omar said. He felt a little bad for using Sa’adah’s last name like that, but he knew she would’ve been fine with it. Spirits knew she had stolen Naciri enough times in her day.
“Well… those are lovely names! I’m Najwa. Najwa Shariiq.” She pauses for a long moment as she goes to check the tea. “So, you’re going through the desert, are you? What’s your destination, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Oh, not at all. We didn’t really have a destination, we were searching for… a group of friends.”
“Maybe I’ve seen them around. After all, people have a tendency to pop up around these parts. Tell me, what do they do?”
“Well… I suppose they’d best be described as fishermen - you know, working with hooks,” Omar says tentatively. He doesn’t think Najwa is dangerous, but he still doesn’t want to give too much away, just in case.
“Hooks, I see. Interesting. A bit odd, isn’t it, for fishermen to come this far out from the coast?”
“For many of them, fishing is just a day job. They enjoy hunting, or… they did in the past, at least.” At this point, Najwa slithers over to the pair, pouring tea into their cups before sitting down herself.
“This may sound familiar. And tell me, why might you be searching for them?” Omar thinks for a long second - he hopes not too long.
“It’s our mothers - my mother, and the one of one in the group. They used to be very good friends, before circumstances drove them apart. But they’ve been in poor health for a while, and now… now the doctor fears that they may die soon. But we - my child and I,” he says, putting his hand on Yufraan’s shoulder. “We believe that if we work together, we may be able to find some sort of remedy, or even a cure.” Omar Naciri sits back, and hopes the metaphor did its job.
Najwa Shariiq’s eyes dart between the two of them, looking each one up and down as it looks like she’s making a decision. Suddenly, her eyes light up, and she gently nods to herself.
“Yes, yes. It all makes sense though. Yes, I know who you are looking for - and you can drop the act, Omar Naciri. And your companion?” Yufraan stands up with almost blinding speed, dropping the hood and revealing their face for the first time. Najwa looks up in awe at the young person whose face almost seems to glow with faint sunlight. “Mutj Mutadiit al-Ildarra Alaalahiiya! My apologies for not noticing sooner. Had I known, I would not have questioned you so.” Yufraan smiles.
“Oh, that’s no problem. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” they say, extending their hand. “And please, call me Yufraan.”
“I - of course, Yufraan,” Najwa replies while shaking Yufraan’s hand.
“As you likely gathered, we are searching for Alkhatawf. We believe that WEGEC is going to launch an attack on the Mukarras governorate on Alnahda, and that it will coincide with a crackdown on people in the other four governorates,” Yufraan begins. “But we believe that our resistance in Aldaar, combined with an uprising here - which they’ll never expect - may be enough to defeat the Mirhaimians.” Najwa thinks for a second before responding.
“Of course I will tell you where Alkhatawf is, and I wish you the best in your adventure. But be warned - Saarkis Hawk is very stubborn, and he hasn’t made a move against Zakyn Petrol in 50 years. He’s unlikely to start now. Then again, I hear he has a new second in command, some fiery young human. No offense,” Najwa says, nodding to Yufraan. “She may be able to help you convince him.”
“Can you take us to Alkhatawf?” asks Yufraan.
“Oh, my child, I wish I could. But my bones are weary, and even the trek to Sayaduun every Rahnam is starting to be too much. But come; let us sit, and finish our tea. I can tell you how to get where you need to be.”