The Jewel of Zecaj | ONC 2022

01🔸Badriya

Photo by Melodyferg on Pinterest.

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A wrong deed can turn good if one has good intentions when doing so. And today was one of those days.

Klalasha was a feeble spot among feeble spots in the land of bounty, but it was an oasis for its people who couldn't afford to be rich. Even under the scorching sun, the province's souk bustled with folk who wanted to spend or to sell. Nothing else mattered. In the market, you were either the vendor who hollered prices or the buyer who demanded bargains. But Badriya wasn't any of the two, and never will be. For she was someone whom everyone knew would exist but often would never be caught.

A thief.

Badriya eyed a tall boy standing next to an old lady talking to a merchant selling silk. His skin and hair were fair like the clouds, which was unusual for a Zecajian. He was holding a bag over his shoulder—not a bag, more like a large piece of cloth tied into one, and it was filled with fruits. Rare, delicious, juicy fruits. Shiny apples, round oranges, plump grapes. The kid must've got them from a caravan coming from Soom. That, and he seemed to have possessed quite a bag of coin to afford such a commodity from those overpricing snakes. His employer must've paid him a good wage. Lucky him.

And lucky for Badriya, she would get at least some of it for free.

Sliding out a rusted knife from her left sleeve, which was just enough to feel its sharp tip pricking her wrist, Badriya strolled to the cloth merchant's makeshift tent and pretended to look around. The products displayed ranged from simple muslin to thick wool, and rare leather to fluffy cotton, all of them dyed with various colors and peculiar patterns. Some were folded neatly, and some were hung around the tent for people to see. Badriya ran her free hand over them, feeling the cloth's smooth and clean texture under her callused palm. She hoped that the merchant would not mind seeing faint streaks of mud and camel crap on his merchandise.

The woman went on her way, a new silk scarf draped over her arm. Then, it was the boy's turn. Taking a step forward, he pointed a finger to a bundle of brown linen behind the merchant and began to talk prices with him.

The two men were distracted. Now was her time to move.

Badriya puckered her lips. "Nothing fits my tastes here," she muttered. "I should look somewhere else, I suppose."

She walked away, and just as she passed behind the boy, she swiped her knife at his bag.

The cut was made in a breath, but Badriya used her beginner's skill of the blade to make sure the hole looked like it wasn't created intentionally. In no time, fruits came tumbling down the ground. The boy quickly tore away from the merchant and knelt down to collect his precious items.

A couple of beggars in rags, whom Badriya noticed were stalking around the stalls earlier, ran to the fruits still unpicked nearby. Badriya stood in front of her victim in defense.

Oh no, you don't.

"Go away, you filthy vermin!" she yelled at them. "These fruits are not for you!"

Now exposed, the beggars scrambled away in fear. Hiding the grin forming in her face, Badriya turned to the poor boy and helped him pick the rest of the fruits.

"T-thank you," he said when she handed the last of them. "Thank you so much. I thought I'd lose my money from those pickpockets. I just got my wage from my master this morning."

"You should be careful next time." Badriya patted his shoulder. "The people around here. . . they are not to be trusted."

The boy nodded. "I will, for sure. I thought I was careful enough, but. . . Well, I never thought they would be so desperate."