Winner of the 'Readers Choice Award' in Historical Fiction.
Winner of the 'Readers Choice Award' in Spiritual Category.
Winner of Best Muslim Readers' Choice Awards: Prince of Knights
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Arabs are well known for their culture, Po...
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I had such a hard time writing this chapter. I don't even know why this was so hard for me. I hope you guys like it.
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~*If you see the tooth of the lion, do not think that the lion is smiling at you~* Al- Mutanabbi
Every step that Faris took away from his chamber, dark shadows closed in on him. Rage as hot as hellfire blazed in his veins, and he saw red. He stepped out of the house but halted in the courtyard of sheikh Mubarak's house as his eyes landed on Umm Faris, who stood there waiting for him. Knight of knights swallowed and made his way to her. The wind seized the hem of his thobe and flapped it rapidly. He clenched his fist when the knight took note of the unshed tears in his mother's eyes. Leaving Raghad behind shook his senses, but leaving his beloved mother behind, felt as if someone cut his wings; and he lay there bleeding.
Faris stood before her, he dropped, from his mighty height to plant a tender kiss on his mother's forehead. "Give me your blessings, mother." He whispered against her warm skin.
"You have them, my son. Now and forever," Umm Faris spoke in a clear voice, but her eyes screamed the dread in her heart.
Faris al fursan held her hand, kissed her palm. "Forgive me, mother, if I have wronged you. Forgive me if I have even oppressed the ground you walk on."
"Ya waladi," Umm Faris swallowed then smiled. "Rest your heart. You have never been disobedient to your mother. May Allah bless you." Faris clenched his jaw, knowing that this might be the last time he sees his beloved mother. He knew Faris knew that if a single tear were to roll down his mother's eyes, his feet would not move. He would build his own grave where her tears would land.
"Fe Aman Allah."
"Fe Aman Al Kareem." Umm Faris squeezed her son's hand.
Knight of knights moved away toward the wooden door where Fahad, his sibling, stood with a sombre face. Just as he was about to speak, the door of their house opened, and his uncle Khaleefa walked in. Faris went up to his uncle and kissed his forehead out of utter respect. His love and reverence for his uncle were immense. The man had taught Faris how to fight how to ride a horse and be a man.
"May Allah be with you, and bestow victory upon you," Khaleefa said patting Faris's shoulder, a peculiar melancholy in his eyes. His eyes reminded Faris of his father, Sheikh Mubarak.
"Fe Aman Allah, 3ami," Faris responded, then walked out of the house well aware that Fahad followed him.
The mighty sun peered down at him as Faris made his way to his knights. His steps were firm, his form rigid. Tension, rage oozed off of him like a stream. The wind reeked of invisible tension so thick that his heart commenced choking. The beast was content that Raghad had forgiven him. Faris knew that it was all that mattered now, even if he did not return to her. He can meet his Lord, his Maker in peace.
