The two days went by in a flash, and before she knew it, Huriyah was exchanging tearful goodbyes with her father and best friend before departing to Medinah.
"You have to visit me more often!" Hakim insisted as he tightly hugged his daughter.
"I know Baba, I will try my best," Huriyah assured him, her arms tightly gripping her father, and her face buried in his chest. She inhaled his familiar musk, trying to imprint it in her brain.
"I love you," she whispered, forcing her tears back.
"I love you too," he said as he kissed the top of her head. "Now go before I change my mind about you leaving!"
Huriyah laughed before turning to her best friend. Laylah didn't even bother to hide her tears.
"You better come see me too, got it," she said as she tightly embraced her friend.
"Got it," Huriyah chuckled as she hugged her friend back. The two broke apart and Huriyah mounted her camel.
"Bye everyone," she waved as she rode off to meet Harith, who had already bade his farewells to his father.
"Shall we?" he asked her.
"We shall," she said. And with that, the two began their week-long ride back to Medinah.
...
Huriyah and Harith sat across from each other in his hut, working as usual. She had chosen to keep her secret identity hidden for the time being so that she could still work, though she told the little rascals her secret. They took the news quite well, surprisingly, and A'asal was rather enthusiastic about it, because now Huriyah could be her big sister.
"What are you thinking about?" Harith asked upon noticing that Huriyah's brush had stopped moving.
"Nothing really, just about everything that's happened," she mumbled. Harith nodded and resumed working.
The hours went by and Huriyah returned home to a surprise.
"Miss Huriyah, a package arrived for you," A'asal informed her as soon as she stepped into her hut.
"Oh really, from whom?" Huriyah asked as she took the package from the little girl.
"From your father I believe," A'asal answered.
"Okay thank you," she told her before going to her room to open the package. Inside was a long, white dress with various golden patterns on it, a khimar, and a face veil. A note fell out.
My dear Huriyah,
This was the dress your mother wore on our wedding day. I am entrusting it with you. Put it to good use.
Your loving father,
Hakim (and Nouri, he was the one that wrote this letter)
Huh? Huriyah wondered in confusion. Put her mother's wedding dress to good use? How was she supposed to do that if she wasn't getting married?
"Baba you don't make sense sometimes," she muttered to herself as she stood up to put the dress away. A glint caught the corner of her eye; she turned to see the long mirror in her room reflecting the light of the setting sun. Huriyah found herself drifting to the mirror, her dress in hand, and when she stood in front of the mirror, she held the dress up to her neck. Her reflection gazed back at her, a little, frail girl who was playing dress up with her dead mother's old clothes.
Without a second thought, she turned away from the mirror and quickly put the dress away. Her father was getting old and didn't know what he was talking about. She shouldn't let his words bother her.
Yet try as she might, her father's words kept on echoing in her mind, throughout dinner and even at night when she tried to sleep. Put it to good use. Like she would ever make the perfect bride, the perfect wife, hell she wasn't even the perfect daughter!
She sighed and quieted her thoughts. With the newfound silence, she was finally able to sleep.
...
"Hey, Harith, Hur, did you guys hear the news?" a villager asked.
Harith and Huriyah stopped in their tracks and made their way to the villager. They had taken a trip to the marketplace to restock on some supplies when the villager called out to them.
"What news?" Harith asked.
"The news of that sorcerer, what was his name--oh yeah! Muhammad!" the villager replied.
"If you mean the man who has revealed a new religion in Mecca, then yes, we have heard of him," Huriyah said.
"Why did you call him a sorcerer?" Harith asked the man.
He chuckled nervously. "I don't really know much. Everything that I know is from hearsay. But they say that his words are magical, words that not even the greatest Arab poets can piece together. He'd give you guys a run for your money, that's for sure!"
"Who's they?" Huriyah asked.
"You know, people who've been to Mecca recently. Speaking of which, didn't the two of you visit the city just the other day? Did you hear anything" the man asked.
"Yeah, we went, and we heard that he advocated for the rights of women and poor people. But we didn't actually hear him in person, so don't count on our word for that" Harith said.
Huriyah gave him a look of admiration. Only Harith would have the foresight and values to ensure that his ignorance would not be taken as fact.
"I see. That's a shame. I'll keep my ears on the lookout for any solid news," the man said before bading them a farewell.
The two resumed their shopping trip.
"I wish we heard this man speak when we were in Mecca," Huriyah mused out loud.
"Me too. But we were so preoccupied with our personal matters, we didn't spare our time for anything else," Harith admitted.
"This man intrigues me. I want to know more about what he preaches. Perhaps he will be influential enough to change the misogynistic traditions of Arabia," Huriyah said.
"Well considering that he is from the tribe of Bani Hashim, I wouldn't be surprised if he has a lot of influence in the politics of this region," Harith said.
The two spent the rest of their journey home in deep thought.
...
As the days passed, more and more news came from Mecca about the man named Muhammad. Huriyah and Harith came to learn that he was the husband of the most influential woman of Mecca, al-Amira Khadijah, the wealthiest tradeswoman in the region. He was also very respected by everyone throughout the land, known for his trustworthiness, fairness, justice, and compassion.
Yet despite his good reputation, and despite the sensibility of what he preached, Muhammad was struggling to get the local tribes leaders, to ally with his cause.
People who had been to Mecca say that the Quraishi leaders refused to accept these new ideologies, and have tried every method of silencing Muhammad and his followers, from bribery, to rock-throwing, and even threats of being exiled.
Huriyah was beginning to lose hope of societal change ever occurring.
"Harith, the more I hear about this man, the more I want to support him," Huriyah confessed one night. She and Harith had been reading letters sent by Nouri about the ongoings in Mecca. "I really want to hear what he has to say and support him."
"Me too," Harith admitted. "I wish to support this man's cause as well. But how?"
Huriyah thought quietly for a moment. Suddenly, an idea hit her.
"How about we get people from other cities to support him?" she suggested. "The people of Mecca are turning their backs against him, save for a few. He needs all the support he can get. How about we help find that support?"
Harith was quiet with contemplation. "It's not a bad idea," he finally said. "I have a few connections in other cities. I can send word to them of what's happening in Mecca."
"In the meantime, we need to get the support of the people here," she said.
"And to do that, we would need to go to Mecca to hear this man's words for ourselves, so that people will trust us even more," Harith continued.
"And we would need more people with us so that there will be many witnesses," Huriyah finished.
"Sounds like a plan," Harith said. "Other than you and I, who else should go?"
"I want the kids to come with us this time," Huriyah said. Harith cocked an eyebrow.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because we don't know how long this trip will last, and I can't leave them alone for an indefinite period of time," she said. "Besides, they know their ways around the streets better than we do, so they'll be a great asset," she said.
"Okay, that makes sense," Harith agreed. "I have a few other people in mind that could come as well," he said.
"Great, let's start finding them!" Huriyah exclaimed.
Harith chuckled at her enthusiasm. Her passion was evident, and he knew that passion was important if they wanted to succeed. Without wasting another moment, he stood up and strode out of his hut, ready to find people for their mission.
A/N: LET'S GET DOWN TO BUUUUUUSNESS! TO DEFEAT---ABU SUFYAN!!!!!!!!
That's right! Huriyah and Harith are about to kick as---GARD! Asgard! I totally meant to say that!
Anyways, this where the real action happens, so keep your hold your breath as plot thickens.
Toodles!!!