Golden Storms | #Wattys2020

Prologue

A/N: Assalamualaikum/hullo and welcome to Golden Storms! I hope you will enjoy reading this as much as I am writing this ❤️ PREVIOUS READERS: THIS BOOK HAS COMPLETELY CHANGED. Make sure to VOTE, COMMENT and SHARE!

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أول الشجرة بذرة

"A tree begins with a seed"

Darkness blanketed the vast city of Tridari, completely and utterly, save for the blazing fiery torches of the palace. The wind had picked up, having travelled over the sand dunes outside the city, over its towering walls, swooping into the cobblestone streets. The wind was the only sound that broke the silence that followed curfew - that, and the occasional sounds of distressed cattle.

The darkness hid the fading magnificence of Tridari. When the sun rose you could see the tarnished marble homes of ancient noble-blooded families – yellowing -white and gold and crystals of fiery hues - and you could see the intricate, cracked, tiles of the rooftops and those which adorned the walls of the masajid (houses of prayer). You could just see the tips of the towers of the palace, elevated in all it's glory, the beautiful marble and crystal work that it was made of hidden behind tall, foreboding iron rungs and dull stone walls. If one walked idly throughout the city, he could see it had once been as great as Alexandria or Babylon.

If one was to ride through the desert in the dead of the night, he might pass the city of Tridari and never have known it existed until he walked straight into its foreboding, looming black walls which encased it's dark magnificence. The desert sands howled around it, but could not shake the city made of stone and marble. The fiercest flames could lick the stone for eons and make nothing of it. Once, a time that almost seemed mythical now, it was a place of beauty and glory where artists travelled from far and wide in an attempt to somehow narrate of its beauty to the worlds beyond. Now Tridari was a dark, dangerous place, guarded jealously by the cold Hashshashin who serve the cursed progeny of Akram House- the ruling House. None may enter, none may leave.

That great evil had hit Tridari over a three generations ago. The beloved Sultan was poisoned from the milk he drank to break his fast. To this day the culprit had never been found, but the days following his death chaos reigned, blood was shed among the Nobles, and the House of Akram managed to take power. It established its own laws, disregarding the Islamic laws which had kept the city in great peace for decades, closed the great golden gates of Tridari, and plunged the city into darkness. Slowly, the Hashshashin began to rise in dominance- the assassins, who had until the reign of the House of Akram, been outlawed. Today they thrived under Sultan Mahmood Akram; roaming the rooftops at night, watching the ongoing of everyday life from the shadows, quickly usurping any seeds of possible rebellion.

It was tonight however, that rebellion in arms of a nobleman was riding through the forest encased within the city walls, effectively cutting off less courageous civilians from trying to escape. His cloak swirled behind him like smoke, fading into the dust left behind in his wake. One strong hand grasped the reins of his magnificent bay stallion while the other was closed around the little girl sound asleep against his chest. Her father's strong arms sent her to the world of dreams even when she was in utmost danger.

The stallion cantered through a well-rehearsed path, thundering through the night with the urgency of his master. The stars blinked and twinkled above them, watching the disarray with interest. There hadn't been much to watch in Tridari for a long time. The small discord had caught their attention.

The nobleman steered his steed to a stop as the gates embedded in the stone walls suddenly appeared through the trees. Fiery torches revealed tall, imposing figures standing as still as marble on either side. The gates were open, but freedom seemed still too far. The nobleman dismounted and the sudden movement caused his daughter to take a deeper breath and clutch at his chest.

One of the statue like Hashshashin came to life and stepped forth. A hood covered most of his face, his bulky figure was intensified by his cloak. But his large exterior did not fool the nobleman – this man could move as gracefully as a snake if he wished. He extended a gloved palm, silently waiting for his payment. The nobleman detached a drawstring pouch from his saddle and handed it to him. They both watched as pouch was opened and precious stones glinted in the fiery light.

"My lord" the assassin purred, "you have upheld your side of the bargain"

The nobleman nodded, "I trust you to uphold yours, Laith"

"Laith always delivers"

Laith gestured to the open gate, "your party awaits. I can give you just a few moments"

"That shall be enough"

The nobleman strode past the gates and into the open air and all he could think was freedom. But it was not his time yet. It was not easy to pretend that the party of defectors was not standing a mere few feet away, watching him.

He tried to pretend for just a moment longer that they were not there. He retrieved his daughter from his chest and held her so he could see her face. He wished she would open her golden eyes and beg him never to let her go. He wished she would start crying so he would have to take her back with him. His heart felt as though it was breaking over and over again with every breath she took before him. He brought her back to his chest and buried his face in her soft hair. His eyes grew hot, and his throat tight, but he whispered to her all the same.

"My child, you are a daughter of Tridari and this will always be your home. I love you so much my child. I will never forgive myself for doing what I am about to do. But you have to know freedom to bring it to this land, and you are our only hope. Falaq Aulaad é Khalifa, my lioness, be strong. Be brave. Be kind. Never let any man or woman walk over you, nor anyone around you. Let no injustice escape unscathed. Listen to no fool's orders. Fear Allah Azzawajal and no one else, and nothing can harm you. You have a great task ahead of you. Make me proud, my princess. Your father shall eagerly await the day you come back home."

With that he gave her a fierce kiss on her brow and tore his gaze away. Straightening his back he walked with all his grace and confidence to the leader of the defectors, the exiled general of the Hashshashin, Hussein.

"You do not have to do this, my friend" Hussein spoke before the nobleman could bequeath his own daughter. The pain in the general's voice almost made the nobleman falter, but he thrust the girl in his arms before he could change his mind.

"I believe in freedom for my people" he told him, "Of all the sons and daughters of my House, this child has the heart of a lioness. She will excel in the land of the free"

Hussein clasped the nobleman's hand, "and I promise I will train her to be the best warrior Tridari has ever seen"

"And I will wait to hear from you, and you will never hear the end of my thanks to you old friend. May Allah subhanhu wa ta'ala protect you and my child."

The nobleman and Hussein both gazed down at the little girl sleeping soundly in Hussein's arms. She looked harmless and innocent as any child but Razaak knew there was something special about her, something very real, something magnificent.

"My lord" Laith prompted from behind the gates.

"Fi amanillah Falaq" the nobleman whispered, before exchanging one last glance with Hussein and sweeping away back into the prison that was his home.