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"You know the life you have committed yourself to often ends in death.
All life does."
-The Valiant
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"You know the life you have committed yourself to often ends in death.
All life does."
-The Valiant
-==+==-
Her world did not end in a bang, or a whisper; but rather one scream at a time.
The dunes of sand across the Eazim desert shifted ever so slightly with the gentle breath across them, coming in from the distance ocean that those within the Qadir party had never seen saw one. A fire made of burning paper from food packaging and the rare pieces of gathered wood crackled lightly in the empty night while figures were scattered about the shadows of the bonfire on mats and blankets. Two identical children were asleep upon a bed of blankets, one holding the other in her arms, chin resting on her sister's shoulder as they both slumbered as they always had. The fire was dying as the sun began her rise over the desert, licking across the soon burning sands with a gentle wisp as if she had no care for the destruction that would occur in her day.
The soft wailing of the babe brought soft groans from those still sleeping, the embraced twin of the two girls shifted with a frown at the disruptive awakening; her elbow bumping into her sister's face and wedging the girl off.
"Gul," whined the elbowed girl, rolling over in her spot and pulling the blanket over the top of them with her, leaving her sister to the still cool air of the morning. A shriek escaped the eight year old as she felt the frigid air on her bare toes, which startled a shout from the two's mother that was still blinking sleep from her eyes, three feet away.
"Azra!" The girl shouted, sitting up and then lunging towards her left onto her sister to attack the still half asleep girl. More shrieking escaped the two girls, mixed with laughter while others around them weren't as entertained or grateful for the loud bickering so early. The two girls batted at each other and fought over the quilt until it was eventually snagged from both their hands, Azra having held on longer and getting dragged briefly across the sand a foot to try and keep the blanket in her grasp. Their father, holding his daughters' covers, frowned in aggravation; though before he could rant at them for being disruptive so early, their mother, Aaliyah exclaimed, "Too early!" towards Faraj. He abruptly paused then gave a sigh, rubbing his eyes with his hand.
The caravan was small, only holding eight people; Aaliyah, Faraj, and their twins, along with Zaki the aging flutist, and another young couple with their first daughter, whom was the wailing baby that originally woke the others. By then, Aaliyah could shout all she'd like, for all of them were rising from their pallets, happy or not. Faraj stretched his arms over his head with a grumble, bones popping before he shuffled back over to Aaliyah. He fell to sit with crossed legs besides her and folded his arms, grumbling to his wife and getting airy, cheerful responses.
Following much in the steps of their parents, Azra grumbled to her sister and abruptly made a face at her before scrambling to her feet to run off once Gul, her younger twin, attempted to tackle her once more. Thus their first daily game of 'catch the other' began, and the two identical girls dashed across the sand to escape, Azra ahead of her sister to avoid being caught.
When Azra eventually miscalculated her step and went sliding forward, becoming an eight year old heap in the sand, her sister leaped upon her, shouting, "I've got you! I got you!" The battling continued and they laughed and giggled- unaware that soon that line would be one that haunted them for the remainder of their lives… one of which, was not very long at all.
By the time everything was packed up, it was a third through morning, all were fully awake and chattering, and the sun was fully flaring across the group. Sandals had found their ways to the Qadir feet by then, sand now like fire rather than the cool temperature it had been when the hungry babe had first blinked awake.
Azra marched ahead of the group with her sister and father, whistling on her flute as Gul goofed about Faraj, trying to prompt him to dance with her as they went, though he was much more interested in trying to be sure they stayed in the proper direction. Hanan, the young wife that traveled with the group with her husband, laughed as she shared to Aaliyah, her baby around her back and distracting itself by pulling on her mother's black curls. The rest of the caravan, simply traveled along, Zaki watching his young flutist student, Azra, with pride, while Hanan's husband, Aasil, kept an eye out around them.
If only he had been looking behind him as he went.
And it was then that Azra's world ended. In that moment, with that first scream from Aasil as he was suddenly blindsided by the shaft of a spear crashing against the side of his head. He was thrown into the sand, and the second scream was that of Hanan as she turned swiftly around to see her husband falling to the sand in a disoriented heap. Her baby let out a wail at the sudden whipping about of her mother, clutching to Hanan's curls with such force it brought the first tears to the woman's eyes.
Zaki, the old man with years of knowledge and wisdom, never even produced a scream. His eyes were only filled with horror as his neighbor collapsed from the force of the spear before the weapon was sudden pierced into his back. The man, clearly in barely in shape to travel despite his insistence to do so, felt his moments of adventure crashing down as he lost balance and fell against the sand, blood staining the grains red from the wound in his back.
Scream after scream, the world came crashing down. Faraj unsheathed the dagger at his side, his only weapon, as he turned about to the white-haired horrors that had come for them. Nightmares come to life, whip and spear-bearing Songaskias bared their teeth in vicious victory towards the startled Qadir party. Aasil gave a grunt as he groped for his own dagger before he was kicked fully to his stomach by his original attack, the slaver pressing down on the young man as the other Songaskias advanced on the remainders.
"Run away!" Aasil screeched in Faraddi, clawing at the ground, desperate to get up as he watched his wife pale. Aaliyah grabbed ahold of the terrified woman's arm and began to sprint the opposite direction, towards her twin daughters and away from the their attackers. Gul gave a wail of terror, frozen in place until Azra began to drag her in the same direction as their mother and Hanan, while their father stayed in place, growling as he held his dagger at ready for attack. Though as he did, he felt cold with his own fear, knowing quite well that he was doing nothing to protect himself- only hoping this would allowing the women to escape.
To the dismay and life-altering horror of Faraj though, he was no real help to the situation- in truth, had he run with his wife and daughters, he could've saved them. Instead though, he had choose wrong and he was swiftly beat down- his knee giving out with a snap as it was eventually kicked too far back. If only the man had run like his children, he was strong and swift enough to lift both and still run with how light the two were. Their mother could run well if she had not had to keep pulling her girls forward, for their small legs couldn't carry them as far as Hanan and Aaliyah's. Had he just ran… they all would've made it except for Aasil and Zaki.
Though instead, everything crumbled. Of the three Songaskias, two darted after the women while the last broke Aasil's leg and made sure that neither man could run off. Zaki could only watch with dimming eyes, his last vision that being of Faraj begging just that his daughters survive.
The women were caught easily by the long-legged Songakias, and Hanan was grabbed by the hair while the women that were kin to Faraj were all yanked to the ground, easily enough as the moment Aaliyah was whipped across the back of the legs, she collapsed and her children, grasping to her hands, fell along with her. A scream escaped Hanan again as she thrashed against the man holding onto her, her daughter wailing as it was stolen.
Thus her baby was gone and never seen again, abandoned there in the desert as they were dragged back across the dunes to the men and the corpse. Hanan was the broken woman no one ever wishes to become, her heart left in the desert with her daughter, buried beneath sand now. Azra and Gul were desperate to grab to their father as they were dragged back to him. Instead, they were shoved away by a foot, and metal was clasped around their wrists; shackles like they were criminals rather than eight year olds.
The choppy sentences of the Songaskias were taunting as the cuffs were tightened, and Gul spat towards the pale-haired man locking hers. A palm across her cheek put a swift end to her rebellion as she was whipped across the face and a handprint was felt behind on her tanned skin.
"Desert-snake bastards!" Aaliyah screeched in Faraddi, though the men only laughed, unable to understand the Qadir tongue.
Azra felt tears welling up in her eyes as she was dragged to her feet, along with her sister, by the slaver, looking about with terror before finally asking in a soft voice, "Abal, what's happening?" Though her father never responded, as a palm crossed his face when he attempted to speak again. This prompting the young Qadir to hold her tongue as well, like her father and mother, and everyone else who had suddenly fallen silent save for the slavers.
The screams silenced and the world had ended.
The dunes of sand across the Eazim desert shifted ever so slightly with the gentle breath across them, coming in from the distance ocean that those within the Qadir party had never seen saw one. A fire made of burning paper from food packaging and the rare pieces of gathered wood crackled lightly in the empty night while figures were scattered about the shadows of the bonfire on mats and blankets. Two identical children were asleep upon a bed of blankets, one holding the other in her arms, chin resting on her sister's shoulder as they both slumbered as they always had. The fire was dying as the sun began her rise over the desert, licking across the soon burning sands with a gentle wisp as if she had no care for the destruction that would occur in her day.
The soft wailing of the babe brought soft groans from those still sleeping, the embraced twin of the two girls shifted with a frown at the disruptive awakening; her elbow bumping into her sister's face and wedging the girl off.
"Gul," whined the elbowed girl, rolling over in her spot and pulling the blanket over the top of them with her, leaving her sister to the still cool air of the morning. A shriek escaped the eight year old as she felt the frigid air on her bare toes, which startled a shout from the two's mother that was still blinking sleep from her eyes, three feet away.
"Azra!" The girl shouted, sitting up and then lunging towards her left onto her sister to attack the still half asleep girl. More shrieking escaped the two girls, mixed with laughter while others around them weren't as entertained or grateful for the loud bickering so early. The two girls batted at each other and fought over the quilt until it was eventually snagged from both their hands, Azra having held on longer and getting dragged briefly across the sand a foot to try and keep the blanket in her grasp. Their father, holding his daughters' covers, frowned in aggravation; though before he could rant at them for being disruptive so early, their mother, Aaliyah exclaimed, "Too early!" towards Faraj. He abruptly paused then gave a sigh, rubbing his eyes with his hand.
The caravan was small, only holding eight people; Aaliyah, Faraj, and their twins, along with Zaki the aging flutist, and another young couple with their first daughter, whom was the wailing baby that originally woke the others. By then, Aaliyah could shout all she'd like, for all of them were rising from their pallets, happy or not. Faraj stretched his arms over his head with a grumble, bones popping before he shuffled back over to Aaliyah. He fell to sit with crossed legs besides her and folded his arms, grumbling to his wife and getting airy, cheerful responses.
Following much in the steps of their parents, Azra grumbled to her sister and abruptly made a face at her before scrambling to her feet to run off once Gul, her younger twin, attempted to tackle her once more. Thus their first daily game of 'catch the other' began, and the two identical girls dashed across the sand to escape, Azra ahead of her sister to avoid being caught.
When Azra eventually miscalculated her step and went sliding forward, becoming an eight year old heap in the sand, her sister leaped upon her, shouting, "I've got you! I got you!" The battling continued and they laughed and giggled- unaware that soon that line would be one that haunted them for the remainder of their lives… one of which, was not very long at all.
By the time everything was packed up, it was a third through morning, all were fully awake and chattering, and the sun was fully flaring across the group. Sandals had found their ways to the Qadir feet by then, sand now like fire rather than the cool temperature it had been when the hungry babe had first blinked awake.
Azra marched ahead of the group with her sister and father, whistling on her flute as Gul goofed about Faraj, trying to prompt him to dance with her as they went, though he was much more interested in trying to be sure they stayed in the proper direction. Hanan, the young wife that traveled with the group with her husband, laughed as she shared to Aaliyah, her baby around her back and distracting itself by pulling on her mother's black curls. The rest of the caravan, simply traveled along, Zaki watching his young flutist student, Azra, with pride, while Hanan's husband, Aasil, kept an eye out around them.
If only he had been looking behind him as he went.
And it was then that Azra's world ended. In that moment, with that first scream from Aasil as he was suddenly blindsided by the shaft of a spear crashing against the side of his head. He was thrown into the sand, and the second scream was that of Hanan as she turned swiftly around to see her husband falling to the sand in a disoriented heap. Her baby let out a wail at the sudden whipping about of her mother, clutching to Hanan's curls with such force it brought the first tears to the woman's eyes.
Zaki, the old man with years of knowledge and wisdom, never even produced a scream. His eyes were only filled with horror as his neighbor collapsed from the force of the spear before the weapon was sudden pierced into his back. The man, clearly in barely in shape to travel despite his insistence to do so, felt his moments of adventure crashing down as he lost balance and fell against the sand, blood staining the grains red from the wound in his back.
Scream after scream, the world came crashing down. Faraj unsheathed the dagger at his side, his only weapon, as he turned about to the white-haired horrors that had come for them. Nightmares come to life, whip and spear-bearing Songaskias bared their teeth in vicious victory towards the startled Qadir party. Aasil gave a grunt as he groped for his own dagger before he was kicked fully to his stomach by his original attack, the slaver pressing down on the young man as the other Songaskias advanced on the remainders.
"Run away!" Aasil screeched in Faraddi, clawing at the ground, desperate to get up as he watched his wife pale. Aaliyah grabbed ahold of the terrified woman's arm and began to sprint the opposite direction, towards her twin daughters and away from the their attackers. Gul gave a wail of terror, frozen in place until Azra began to drag her in the same direction as their mother and Hanan, while their father stayed in place, growling as he held his dagger at ready for attack. Though as he did, he felt cold with his own fear, knowing quite well that he was doing nothing to protect himself- only hoping this would allowing the women to escape.
To the dismay and life-altering horror of Faraj though, he was no real help to the situation- in truth, had he run with his wife and daughters, he could've saved them. Instead though, he had choose wrong and he was swiftly beat down- his knee giving out with a snap as it was eventually kicked too far back. If only the man had run like his children, he was strong and swift enough to lift both and still run with how light the two were. Their mother could run well if she had not had to keep pulling her girls forward, for their small legs couldn't carry them as far as Hanan and Aaliyah's. Had he just ran… they all would've made it except for Aasil and Zaki.
Though instead, everything crumbled. Of the three Songaskias, two darted after the women while the last broke Aasil's leg and made sure that neither man could run off. Zaki could only watch with dimming eyes, his last vision that being of Faraj begging just that his daughters survive.
The women were caught easily by the long-legged Songakias, and Hanan was grabbed by the hair while the women that were kin to Faraj were all yanked to the ground, easily enough as the moment Aaliyah was whipped across the back of the legs, she collapsed and her children, grasping to her hands, fell along with her. A scream escaped Hanan again as she thrashed against the man holding onto her, her daughter wailing as it was stolen.
Thus her baby was gone and never seen again, abandoned there in the desert as they were dragged back across the dunes to the men and the corpse. Hanan was the broken woman no one ever wishes to become, her heart left in the desert with her daughter, buried beneath sand now. Azra and Gul were desperate to grab to their father as they were dragged back to him. Instead, they were shoved away by a foot, and metal was clasped around their wrists; shackles like they were criminals rather than eight year olds.
The choppy sentences of the Songaskias were taunting as the cuffs were tightened, and Gul spat towards the pale-haired man locking hers. A palm across her cheek put a swift end to her rebellion as she was whipped across the face and a handprint was felt behind on her tanned skin.
"Desert-snake bastards!" Aaliyah screeched in Faraddi, though the men only laughed, unable to understand the Qadir tongue.
Azra felt tears welling up in her eyes as she was dragged to her feet, along with her sister, by the slaver, looking about with terror before finally asking in a soft voice, "Abal, what's happening?" Though her father never responded, as a palm crossed his face when he attempted to speak again. This prompting the young Qadir to hold her tongue as well, like her father and mother, and everyone else who had suddenly fallen silent save for the slavers.
The screams silenced and the world had ended.
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