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...
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*You are killing me and you are keeping me from dying*
Badr watched the sun sink from where he stood at the top of the dune, his silhouette sharply defined against the backdrop of the evening sky.
The sinking sun, a radiant sphere of fiery hues, hung low on the horizon, casting its warm and mellow glow across the landscape. The sky, painted in a canvas of soft purples, pinks, and blues, showcased the remnants of a day well-lived.
Or so it pondered.
Shoug turned her head to her right and gazed at Badr, and a frown marred her beautiful face. He had been up there for over an hour now, standing still as if he were a status, a soulless being, and she understood why the man had not spoken a word to any of them since the afternoon.
They had been riding for two days to locate Harib without stopping. The only time they did was sleep under the open sky with Badr guarding Shoug and his men on the other side. After two horrifying and extremely tiring days, Badr and his men had reached the location of an abandoned village, only to find that Harib was nowhere in sight.
It was as if the man, this notorious phantom, had moments ago slithered away. They could see the still-warm ashes, the footprints of innumerable men.
Badr had not uttered a word. The only indication of his rage was the tick of his jaw when Shoug had peered at him. He had stood there and took in the sight, the fire which had torched a few hours ago, the crumbled robe in one of the mud chambers.
Badr had been late.
The knights gaped around, attempting to sheath their rage. Shoug understood that the men were furious and exhausted because every bone in her body screamed at her. Her limbs felt feeble, and she could barely walk without trembling.
The men were irritable due to their journey and this failure; since Badr refused to divert his gaze from the chambers collecting whatever evidence he wished to discover, Jabbir decided they were to ride for another hour only to halt where they were now.
They had stopped at another deserted village; this one, however, had fewer crumbling houses than the one Harib was supposed to shelter in. Badr's knights, without a word, dismounted their horses and camped around the chambers: They knew better than to disturb the eagle who soared high in the sky and halted by the dune, staring at the sun's descent.
Above, the clouds parted in scattered patches, like a delicate veil gently pulled aside by Badr's gaze. Golden beams of light streamed downward, like ethereal fingers reaching out from the heavens to Shoug, prompting her to reach out to Badr to talk to him.
With a deep inhale, Shoug looked away from her spouse, perturbed. Blades of grass and desert plants caught the sun's final caress, each bush aglow as if adorned with a tiny flame. Flames that burned within her, she wanted to apprehend Harib just as much as Badr, and now that they had failed, Shoug did not know how to reach the man she had agreed to pair with, but she knew she had to speak to him.
