Saad tightened her grip around the ferry tickets as she marched toward the air‑ferry station, the desert wind pulling sharply at her scarf. Heat shimmered off the sandstone path, but nothing burned as fiercely as her anger.
Unbelievable.
Suad had insisted she go ahead—"I'll get the permit, don't wait for me."
And then he never showed up.
Her jaw locked. How could he let me handle everything alone? She was already carrying his share of the work—again. He was supposed to help, not run off to do whatever idiotic thing occupied his brain these days.
A bitter thought crawled in.
He's probably with her. Laughing. Smiling. Acting like the world isn't falling apart.
Saad's teeth ground together. No shame. No responsibility. Ever since they were children, she shouldered everything while he floated through life untouched.
Flashback
She remembered their old house—warm bread cooling on the windowsill, the constant scent of dust and old rugs. Back then, Suad never lifted a finger. Their parents spoiled him endlessly while she scrubbed floors until her knuckles bled.
He'd sit by the narrow window, silver hair gleaming under the sun, a blindfold wrapped around his eyes like a sacred ornament. Meanwhile, she hauled buckets half her size across the courtyard.
And when chores piled up and she shot him a glare?
He'd just smile that infuriating smile and say, "You're better at this than me."
The memory stung like acid on raw skin.
Her irritation throbbed with each step toward the station. A date. Of all times, he chose now to sneak off? Fine. She'd take the tickets and leave without him. Let him learn what responsibility feels like.
She reached for her pocket—and froze.
Empty.
"Damn it…"
Her heart dropped, but she forced herself to breathe. Good thing she'd hidden their money in five places. She checked each pouch until she felt the weight of coins settle into her palm.
As she adjusted her straps, a strange figure caught her eye—a bald man in an orange robe, standing out in the crowd like a lit torch. He spoke to a vendor in odd, rhythmic syllables:
"OH… OP…"
Saad's annoyance flickered into curiosity. She closed the pouches and drifted toward him.
"So what you're saying is—Lord Greisha was born from this sleeping god?" the vendor asked while scooping markash buns into a paper bag.
"Hello," Saad said cautiously.
The monk turned with a warm smile. "Ah, well hello there, young lady."
"Lady?" Saad frowned.
"Oh—are you a man? My apologies!"
"No," she huffed. "A woman. Just… definitely not a lady." She eyed the robe. "You look… different."
He chuckled. "These?" He gestured to his simple orange garment, loosely tied at the hips. "Official robes of the Starkash faith."
"From Prasivilea?" she asked, her tone sharpening.
His eyes widened. "You know it? I've yet to meet anyone here who even recognizes the name."
"I've… read about it," she replied, keeping her voice steady. She wasn't about to explain that she studied religions in military training.
"I see," he said, tilting his head thoughtfully. "Must be a newly written book. The faith is rather young, after all."
"Nine years old," Saad said instantly.
His smile twitched—almost impressed. "You certainly know more than most."
Saad shifted the ticket envelope in her hand. Fascinating or not, she didn't have time for religious lectures. She had a ferry to catch—and a brother to drag back from whatever chaos he'd fallen into.
She was about to excuse herself when a whisper drifted through the air—soft, but sharp enough to slice straight into her spine.
"They caught that witch girl," someone murmured behind her. "Over by the spice stalls."
Saad froze. Pain and dread detonated in her chest.
"What did you say?" she demanded, whirling around.
The man blinked, startled. "The soldiers. They took her."
She didn't wait.
The tickets disappeared into her pocket as she shoved past the monk mid‑sentence. His confused voice chased after her, but her pulse drowned it out.
Her boots struck the cobblestones hard as she sprinted, weaving between startled vendors and customers. Her breath came fast, trembling with fury—and terror.
Suad. Where is Suad?
She knew exactly where he'd been. With her.
If he let this happen—if he stood there while soldiers dragged that girl away—
Saad swore she would march him to Dawai Kingdom herself.
Even if she had to break every bone in his body to do it.