A Crook In The Sand

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“IF YOU KNOW THE ENDING to my story, then finish it,” Mazeeda questioned him, discreetly testing the waters.

He shook his head, face plain and giving nothing away. It was like staring at a wall and expecting it to crumble. “This is not my story to tell. It is yours.”

The queen sighed into her hands, slowly losing patience with her husband. “Then there’s no point in telling it if you already know. The only reason why I woven the story was to...was to…”

Now that Mazeeda thought about it, her intention to why she decided to tell the tale was up in shambles. One part of her was screaming out at her that she had done it to save Shazerade's life and the other to save her own. And in the back of her head, there was a whisper and it said: You do it for him. It keeps him sane. You wish to please him.

"Love." Khai's voice pierced through her thoughts, shredding them into silence. "I want you to tell me your story, yes?"

Her eyes wandered from his eyes to his mouth and finally his hands, empty without his glamorous dagger and now occupied with the silk sheets. "Fine," she obeyed him like a servant. "The tale of Sharik and Leila starts once again and like always, you are correct, their story will end quickly and tragically.

But for now, the moon is shining proudly above them. The stars quiet and the night sky shy. The breeze soft whispers against the gentle cold atmosphere.

With her hands on Sharik's chest, Leila pushed him away and gathered herself up. The sleeve of her shirt now ruined, stained with ashes of the unknown.

The sun warrior stood up as well, not bothering to wipe off any lent. 'Leila, I-'

'It's dangerous,' she said. 'It's best if we part ways here as strangers.'

'Friends,' he insisted.

Sighing, she nodded. Always stubborn, always persistent. It made her realise why he was alive.

Stepping out of the old temple, her steps careful and measured. Leila picked up her dagger and put it back into its sheath. Everything was telling her to take one last look behind her back, but society was denying it.

Sharik went for her wrist once again, but stopped short of it. He would let her go again. He swallowed, afraid he was making a mistake. 'Will I ever see you again?'

She stopped walking but didn't turn to answer him, didn't dare look him in the eye one last time. 'No, I hope I don't. And if we ever do, I have a feeling it's when something bad has happened.'

That was the priestess last words to him as she winnowed up towards the Sky.