The Journal of Rafiq al-Rashid
Several weeks have passed since the City of Sapphire fell foul of the Darvaki horde and life has slowly returned to normal. Bazaari once again crowd the markets, the great mosque is no longer just a refuge of the old and sick and even the sekut have returned like rats after the passing storm. From the ruins of the old Bazaari quarter, my academy flourished. It feels like just yesterday that we opened our doors to talented individuals from all walks of life, yet I now find myself as the tutor of a dozen of the finest minds in mardoum society.
Day blended with night and I very quickly lost track of time while surrounded by tome and scroll, forgotten relics of the cities library. Hamzi made tutoring look so easy, yet I find myself struggling to keep up with the students’ thirst for knowledge. Often my day would be spent teaching one methodology and then my evening spent researching the next. But all this education is good for the mind, I had become lazy in recent years and relied too much of cheap tricks.
Just as things had started to settle, my evening routine was disturbed by a heavy and somewhat authoritative knock at the door. With only moments to gather myself I was greeted by two Pasdari ready to collect me for the Majlis ceremony in my honour. I remember looking over at the stack of papers on my desk and there, under several stacks of scroll cases, is a crisp and unopened letter that bears the official seal of the city. No time to shave then.
The ceremony was breathtaking. It seemed like the entire city had emptied into the civic hall and for the first time in weeks I felt the weight of our achievement as thousands of eyes sat fixated on myself and my companions.
Once the ceremony had subsided, we were invited to a more private meeting with the Vizier and a few select members of high society. It transpired that we were once again needed in service our adopted city. Construction slowed as materials had become harder and harder to acquire. If there was any chance of returning the Sapphire to its old splendor, we would need a sizeable supply of raw materials from the great northern city of Behoustan.
In addition to the sizeable fortune entrusted to us, the Vizier placed us under the charge of a young and bright eyed mufti named Benn.
So the next day, with Benn and the city’s wealth in tow, we set out towards the third jewel of the Caliphate: Behoustan, City of Topaz.
No matter how often you travel through the Bahar, it becomes no more forgiving than the last. Wind, sand and sun lashed at any exposed skin it could find and the dunes spanned out for miles in all directions. Though the journey was unusually quiet, which given previous experience, was never a good sign. The Caliphate is a dangerous place, any journeying party would expect to encounter any number of the predatory creatures along its travels, yet we rarely saw anything larger than a desert lizard.
We did encounter several small Bahari groups travelling westward for the rainy season, many of which brought news from the various parts of the Caliphate. It would seem that life in Darvish Kapur had returned to the status quo albeit with the new Sheikh, Wassim al-Kapur. As for the civil unrest in Yasminah, word was that it had come to bloodshed. These were dark days indeed.
Our journey took us north, to the Great Oasis. Once populated by vast numbers of Bahari, this desert jewel was now completely desolate. Dark clouds hung overhead and in the distance, thunder boomed. At first I didn’t realise what I was hearing, dismissing the thunder as a sign of the coming storm. Yet the sound replayed in my mind over and over until realisation swept through my thoughts and drew my gaze skyward. This was not thunder, but the booming voice of a creature far too abhorrent for the natural world. Once again it boomed out Maissa’s name and the beast fell from the heavens like a swooping hawk. The ground around us exploded as more creatures, born of lightning, began to whisper a dark chorus in reverence of this winged beast, this Shaitun of Atash.
I’ll admit I was worried about Benn. He was a sheltered creature, much like I used to be, and to experience such horrors first hand could easily break a man. But he stood firm in his conviction and we brought a swift end to this new monstrosity.
Exhausted, we set up camp overnight at the Great Oasis before continuing our journey north, out of the Bahar and into the mountainous realm of Behoustan. There we crossed onto the main trade route between Darvish Kapur and the northern cities, a vast winding road that followed the banks of the river Kimri.
