Arabs are well known for their culture, Poetry, and hospitality. They are also recognized for their valor and leadership. Badr, son of Sheikh Faisal, a valiant knight known among the tribes.
Due to his father's grave illness, Badr is named the lead...
This was a chapter that brought tears to my eyes while writing it. Best of luck.
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~*Be patient when you sit in the dark. The dawn is coming~*
Badr sprint forward to where a dozen brigands fought his knights. Running, he moved his head right and growled to see that some of them had long gone invaded the inner circle of the tribe, and his men endeavored to stop them. Badr took off his cloak and flung it aside just when he reached the bandits. Scared, enraged, and perplexed at the unforeseen audacious invasion, Badr swung his ax in such speed that the blade caused a sharp hole in one of his opponent's chest.
Why was his tribe attacked in the middle of the daylight? Thieves attempted to loot at night and be discreet. However, this was war. Puddles of crimson water littered the tribe. Badr's knights were expeditious to gain their wits and strike back. He had trained them infinite nights for this.
Defend the women, children, and elderly. Always keep a weapon close. And if attacked while asleep with a blade to your throat, do not perish without a fight.
Just when the last scattered cloud unveiled the sun, the last of the bandit fell. Badr watched the man fall to his knees and crumble. Badr extracted the ax from the man's body and turned. Chest heaving, sagr al fursan scanned around for more like an unhinged animal. There was blood on his clothes, blood on his hands. Badr could not tell if it was his blood or the blood of the men he had just terminated, but he knew that it was warm. The depletion of the war; caused his ax to shake in his hand, and before Badr could drop the weapon on the ground, his blood ran cold.
"BADR!" cried a woman's voice. His mother's voice.
As he turned to the voice, his whole world tipped to the side. With a cry of absolute horror that tore from his chest, Badr ran; he ran as he had never before. His sandals slipped on stones, but he did not stop.
He had to run faster.
Badr ran.
Ya, Allah!
The wind sprint alongside him, taking sand and dust with it, causing trees to sway in their roots. A sharp stone bit his left foot, and Badr: for a few ominous seconds stumbled but quickly gained his balance and ran towards his mother.
However, in the seconds that he wavered, something occurred. Instead of walking the last few steps, Badr froze. His form went rigid, and he merely stared. It was then; that a deadly monster roared in Badr's chest, scalding him to his core.
Suddenly screams from around him erupted, and people crowded, but Badr could not move. His body commenced to tremble, and sweat dripped down his frozen spine. Jabbir took the last steps for Badr, seized the last of the bandit, and drove his sword through the man's heart. Even then, Badr stood there, but his eyes gradually traveled to the other body that lay lifeless next to his mother's feet.
