Chapter 2
Rami
In the depths of the shadows, there was a relentless, suffocating weight, a darkness that clawed at the fringes of consciousness. Falling. It was an all-consuming void, a black sea in which hope faded, each moment a struggle against the unyielding tides of despair. Drowning, drowning. The mind wandered these shadowy corridors, seeking an escape but finding none. Lost. Lost. Lost. A heavy mantle of countless days and endless nights, each blending into the next, a monotonous cycle of servitude and sorrow...
Then, a sudden, stinging reminder of the present—an unforgiving anchor back to reality.
Blinking to awareness, I met Sultan Ghazi’s annoyed scowl, his hand still raised from where he”d struck my face. My power responded instinctively to the threat, but as it reached the bands around my wrists, a searing pain shot through me, the agonizing echo of my own power turned against me. The restraints—disguised as beautiful bracelets—concealed their true purpose: keeping me leashed like an animal.
”Focus, Rami!” he barked, his tone laced with the condescension of one who never had his authority questioned.
”Asif, sayyidi,” I apologized, using his preferred honorific in hopes it would soothe his ego.
He exhaled sharply before spinning away, the fabric of his crimson cape trailing across the black marble floor—like a river of spilled blood. ”Today is the day we make progress!” he exclaimed, settling into his desk chair. ”Fetch the Heart”s tome.”
”As you wish, sayyidi,” I replied, my neutral tone hiding the dread knotting in my stomach.
His obsession with the fabled Heart of Eternity had begun in the sands of his youth and stretched into the horizon of his reign. Driven by legends of the Heart—rumored to grant the power of the universe to its wielder—Sultan Ghazi spared no expense in its pursuit. However, every unsuccessful expedition further depleted the sultanate’s financial resources, resources that could’ve been used to improve the lives of his subjects.
Approaching the bookshelf that extended the length of the eastern wall, I reached for an ancient green tome, drawing it forward. Skimming my fingers three spots to the left and six down, I grasped a thin, red book and flipped it upside down, a subtle rotation of a bird ornament completing the sequence.
Placing my palm against the wooden surface, I murmured, ”Iftah,” waiting as the warmth of my wards flowed over my skin, a reassurance that no intruders could gain entrance. With an audible click, the shelf slid open, revealing the entrance to the Sultan’s sanctum of obsessions and dreams. Known only to a select few, his life”s work was a treasure trove beyond imagination. Priceless jewelry, ancient relics, precious gemstones, rare potion ingredients, and more blurred in my periphery as I moved toward the smaller chamber.
Determined to avert my gaze from the macabre trophies lining the walls—remnants of tasks he’d coerced me into completing—I hastened my steps, suppressing the surge of rising bile and violent memories. Approaching the display of his most prized possessions, I picked up the black, leather-bound tome, tucking it under my arm. Pivoting on my heel, I tried to avoid looking at the middle stand, yet my feet refused to obey my command to keep walking.
Don’t look. Don’t look...
I whirled around, glowering at the lamp. Whenever Sultan Ghazi sent me in here, I always attempted to ignore it. Yet, despite my resolve, it persistently called to me, forcing me to acknowledge its presence. The wretched artifact gleamed atop the tallest pedestal, its polished gold surface reflecting the chamber’s torches. Etched into the metal were swirling arabesques and delicate floral motifs, with tiny gemstones embedded in the design. Its handle resembled a golden snake, the gracefully curved spout ending in a delicate point.
Despite its outward beauty, an unsettling ugliness emanated from its depths. It was a paradox of magnificence and malevolence, drawing me in even as it repelled me—a constant reminder of the chains that bound me.
”Madness!” Sultan Ghazi exclaimed an hour later, after multiple failed attempts. Pacing like a caged animal, his cape swirled with each agitated stride, his jeweled fingers tapping out a frantic rhythm against the cover. ”I’ve dreamt of possessing the Heart of Eternity my entire life, and now, when the tome is within my grasp, it mocks me!” His accusatory gaze was bloodshot and wild. ”The genio bond should compel you to unveil its mysteries at my command! Why isn’t it working?”
I resisted the urge to sigh in exasperation. He’d repeatedly wished, demanded, threatened, and ordered that I unlock its secrets. Despite my best efforts, it resisted my powers, the words and letters on the pages constantly rearranging unpredictably, driving the Sultan to the edge of madness.
”Sayyidi,” I replied with practiced neutrality. ”The Heart’s protections are ancient and powerful, far surpassing the genio bond’s capabilities.” It was a truth well-rehearsed, a shield against his volatile temper. This conversation had become a daily ritual since I”d ventured into the Shadowed Sands, negotiating for the ancient tome rumored to reveal the location of the Heart of Eternity.
”Nonsense! It simply doesn’t think I’m worthy!” he exclaimed. ”I’ve been too lenient, too confined by my generosity and benevolence. I haven’t allowed myself to fully realize my potential, and that’s why it hides its secrets!” he declared.
As he continued his tirade, speaking of dominion over the realms and riches beyond imagination, I tuned him out from my perch on the windowsill, looking down at the courtyard below. Prince Haytham was training with my second-in-command, Darif, their swords glinting in the sunlight. The contrast between father and son couldn”t have been starker. While Sultan Ghazi reveled in opulence and power, Haytham exhibited the discipline, humility, and perseverance that his mother had possessed.
He and his sister, Yasmeena, differed from others in their lineage. Unlike past sultans, they embodied the qualities a prince and princess should have: kindness, thoughtfulness, strength, courage, and generosity. A flicker of pride warmed my chest as I knew a part of their character stemmed from my guidance, the first time in generations I”d tried to influence the future from the ground up.
In all my years of servitude, I”d never expected much from my masters, despite observing them from birth. Past experiences had soured me on interfering again, but their mother”s dying plea to watch over them had swayed me. Though the crown prince held the potential to break the cycle, I wouldn”t allow myself to hope just yet. It was a dangerous emotion, a gateway to wanting, believing, and ultimately, disappointment.
The Sultan”s rising voice cut through the air, breaking the spell of the scene below. ”With the Heart, I will ascend to heights never seen before! Imagine the power and glory!” His words were grandiose, his aspirations reaching far beyond the confines of reality. He was fueled by a power I knew would consume him before it ever truly belonged to him. ”But first, I must unlock its secrets. Tell me, Rami,” he demanded. ”Why does it resist me?”
I hesitated, weighing my words carefully, loathe to offer him the answer. Until now, I’d avoided giving a direct response, but his patience was cracking, and I couldn’t put it off any longer. ”I believe we must pay a price first.”
He stilled, a sinister calm overtaking him. ”A price,” he whispered, nodding emphatically. ”Of course, everything comes at a price!” His eyes were manic as he spun toward me. ”Give me your hand!”
Reluctantly, I complied, watching as he drew a dagger across my palm before pressing it against the tome’s cover. As the leather absorbed my blood, he clutched it with a white-knuckled grip, his eyes widening as a phrase materialized letter by letter.
Only one born of the Seekers shall find the Heart of Eternity.
”A Heartseeker!” he exclaimed. ”Yes, yes! This changes everything!” He resumed his pacing, and a sense of dread overwhelmed me at the familiar expression on his face. ”Yasmeena’s reveal will be the perfect occasion,” he mused aloud. ”Instead of just the sultanates, we shall send a summons to the entire realm. Among them must be a Heartseeker!” As he stalked toward me, my bands seared my skin, a signal that a wish was forthcoming.
”Rami, I wish for you to send a summons to anyone of royal and noble lineage, as well as those of significance across the realm. Don’t forget anyone important!”
”Even the fae?”
His face took on a pinched expression, and I fought the urge to react to his disgust toward my kind. ”Only their royalty.”
”As you wish, sayyidi.” Closing my eyes, I allowed his words to echo in the caverns of my mind. Granting a wish of this magnitude wasn”t as simple as snapping my fingers; it required precise concentration and construction.
I pulled up a visual map of the realm, each territory interconnected like a web of alliances and rivalries. With a deep breath, I reached out, threading the strands of persuasion and intention together, joining them with urgency as Yasmeena”s birthday was in one week. This gave the guests just enough time to prepare their transportation to make the long journey quickly.
I added three cords of excitement, and just one of yearning, as their fear of missing out on any occasion worthwhile would do the rest. When the enchantment glowed a complete lavender, I tied off the knot before moving through each kingdom, principality, territory, shire, region, province, clan, court, and fiefdom. With each land I passed over, my power raced across it, leaving behind purple specks where Sultan Ghazi’s targets were located.
To my surprise, as it sped through our domain and across the other sultanates, it looped back around, zooming through the Marasynth desert and leaving a purple dot in its wake. I frowned, as it was unheard of for our elite to live so close to the portal leading to the Nuralian Fae Courts. When I urged it to move closer, there was no sign of anything but sand and the creatures who dwelled beneath it.The only explanation I could think of was that one of our guests was en route to the celebration.
Once my power had circled the entire realm—leaving behind a map glittering with purple spots—I released the summons into the ether. They rippled outwards in a flash of light, the air crackling with energy, charged with the promise of a wish granted.
“It’s done,” I murmured.
“Excellent!” he grinned, clapping his hands together. “Everything must be perfect for the Heartseeker’s arrival!”
Feeling slightly drained from the magnitude of the wish, I ignored his eager scheming, my gaze drifting once again to the window. I watched as the agile and focused prince parried and lunged, fighting with the skill I had drilled in him and his sister since the moment they could hold a wooden sword. His commitment to mastering the art of combat and excelling in his studies was commendable, especially considering the turbulent rule he”d grown up under.
Turning back to the Sultan, I caught a momentary lull as he paused to breathe. Seizing the opportunity, I ventured, ”Haytham shows great potential. He learns quickly and is excelling in all of his studies.” My words were careful and measured, aiming to pierce the veil of his Heart-driven fervor with the reminder of a legacy closer to home. ”Perhaps it”s time to prepare him for his future role.”
He paused mid-pace; the suggestion catching him off guard. For a moment, the mask of obsession slipped, revealing a flicker of contemplation. But as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced once again by the imperious ruler consumed by dreams of power and dominion.
”Haytham has his uses,” he conceded. Snapping the tome shut, his voice grew distant as he entered the hidden chamber. ”But he lacks the vision, the gloriousness of what I will achieve.” A few moments later, he reappeared, righting the red book to its proper position. As the shelf slid shut, he turned, striding toward the doors with hurried and determined steps. ”Once I possess the Heart, our sultanate will be untouchable. And so will I.”