Chapter 26
Rami
“Wait!” Nahlah’s desperate plea halted our departure, bringing the swirling domain back into focus.
“Nahlah!” I hissed.
She pushed past me, advancing toward the Zephyr. “What about a tale!”
“Nahlah!” She was entirely driven by her reckless impulses! I stepped in front of her, attempting to shield her from the consequences her boldness might bring. “What are you doing!?”
“The tome said she would accept a dream, a memory, or a tale entwined!” Her eagerness radiated as she spun back around. “Would a story suffice?”
The ghost of a smile touched the Zephyr’s lips, curiosity flickering in her ageless eyes as she nodded. “It’s an option. Though I have yet to hear one that is adequate payment.”
“Then, in exchange for safe passage through the doorway, may I offer you one?”
“And if it isn’t sufficient?” Her question sent a chill through me, but Nahlah’s next words set my fear ablaze.
“I will give you both a memoryanda dream.”
The gravity of her proposition hit me like a physical blow, and in a moment of desperation, I spun her around, pressing her against Huriyah’s side. “Are you out of your mind?!”
“I suggest you weigh your next words very carefully,” she warned, her cheeks flushing red. “May I remind you that when you asked for my cooperation, you assured me that if I had more expertise in something, you would heed my advice?” Her reminder felt like a trap, ensnaring me with my own words. ”This is where I excel, Rami. Storytelling.” She crossed her arms determinedly across her chest.
The urge to whisk her away and protect her was overwhelming. But resisting would only deepen the divide between us. Not to mention, her role as the Heartseeker lent her instincts a weight I couldn’t ignore. With a heavy heart, I nodded stiffly before addressing the Zephyr. “If you deem her tale acceptable, you will grant the three of us free passage with no stipulations. If not, then you will take your payment from me.”
“I can—” I raised my hand, cutting off Nahlah’s protests.
”These are the terms for my cooperation,” I responded firmly. Nahlah watched me for a moment, an unreadable expression on her face before she nodded, her jaw clenching.
”I accept your terms.” The Zephyr, visibly entertained by our discussion, motioned to Nahlah with a grin. ”You may proceed.”
I watched anxiously as she scanned the landscape intently before studying the Wraith. “May I ask a question?” she inquired after a minute.
“Only because you pique my interest, Heartseeker,” the Zephyr said, raising a finger into the air. “But only one.”
“Of the thousands of lands you guard, have you set foot in any of them?”
Silence fell, the Zephyr’s stilled contemplation contrasting with the restless movement of her hair. After a moment, she answered, “No.”
Nahlah smiled, her voice taking on a soft cadence as she began, “For you, I offer The Painter’s Freedom.”
THE PAINTER”S FREEDOM
Once upon a realm, there lived a renowned painter, known for her remarkable works. This artist possessed the unique ability to capture the essence of places she’d only dreamed of seeing. Her art featured everything from the towering peaks of the Ardeelian Mountains to the deep waters of the Atlantean Kingdoms. Each canvas was a portal to a world beyond, inviting wanderers and dreamers alike to lose themselves in the beauty she depicted.
“What adventures the painter must have!” they’d exclaim.
Yet, the painter was bound to her tower, tethered by a physical affliction that prevented her from ever leaving. The secret to her unparalleled artistry was an enchanted mirror that revealed the most breathtaking wonders of the realms. Despite the glimpses the mirror provided, she ached for real adventures, for the freedom to experience the world beyond her body’s confinement.
During one particularly lonely dusk, a curious bird visited. Sensing her sadness, he asked, “How can you paint what you do not know?”
The artist bristled. “I love my paintings! And my mirror keeps me as well-informed as anyone else.”
But the bird pressed on, “How can you love what you do not know?” In her frustration, she requested the bird leave her be. But for three nights, it returned, singing tales of joy and exploration, of the wonders discovered on the wings of courage and within the winds of change.
Eventually, she confessed her body’s restrictions, and that she could only experience the realms through the glass of her mirror. Moved by her plight, the bird gave her a gift—a single feather. “With this,” he proclaimed, “your heart and soul can roam free, even if your feet cannot.”
The painter crafted the feather into a brush, using it to create doors on her canvases. More than just art, it became a gateway, allowing her spirit to traverse places she”d only dreamed of seeing. Now, she could experience these places as vividly as if she were walking through them herself, a freedom her physical constraints had never allowed.
“I have lived, but I wasn’t alive,” she confessed as she watched the sunset paint the sky with colors she had no names for, feeling the sun’s vanishing rays wash over her skin as she wept openly. “But now, I am free.”
It was through looking beyond her limitations that the painter realized the essence of true freedom isn’t always about the physical escape, but the liberation of the mind, heart, and spirit.
As the tale’s ending lingered, I felt like I was awakening from a profound trance. Nahlah’s narrative had drawn me entirely into its depths, her every word resonating within me on a deeper level.
The Zephyr’s silence was contemplative, one of introspection as her gaze fixed on Nahlah, deliberating the tale’s worth. Her stance was relaxed; her usually restless hair settled, framing her form in a serene cascade as if she was finally at ease.When she spoke, her voice carried a tone of unmistakable want. “A tale well told. I accept your payment.”
Relief washed over me, so potent I had to lean against Huriyah for support. My admiration for Nahlah swelled; her intuition and ability to perceive and articulate emotions had engaged the Zephyr on a deeper level than mere storytelling. She”d tapped into a yearning for freedom and adventure that perhaps the Wraith herself hadn’t realized she harbored.
But the tale’s impact went beyond securing our passage and connecting with the Zephyr. When she spoke, I was no longer just a listener; I became the painter, trapped in an unbreakable cycle not of my making, desperately craving freedom.
”Shukran,” Nahlah smiled gratefully, pressing her fist to her heart. ”May you find what you seek.”
The Zephyr Wraith dipped her head, her eyes gleaming with a newfound brightness. “For you, I wish the same, Heartseeker.” With a flourish, she opened the ancient door, its hinges creaking, showing the centuries since its last use.
Stepping through the doorway after Nahlah and Huriyah, I cast a final glance back at the Zephyr; her form receding into the shadows. Nahlah had offered us more than just a story; she”d extended a promise of hope.
Blue skies and golden sands greeted us as we emerged back into the desert. Conjuring a massive palm frond, I suspended it in the air, shading us from the blinding sunlight. The stark contrast between the bright desert and the perpetual darkness of the Shadowed Sands always left me feeling disoriented, and it took some time to adjust.
”Are we in the Marasynth?” Nahlah asked, turning in a half-circle.
Though it looked exactly like home, it didn”t feel familiar. ”Actually, I think we”re in a mirror world,” I replied, studying our surroundings. ”Similar to how the Nuralian Court reflects ours.”
”That makes sense. How long has it been since we left home?”
”Well, a day in the Sands equals a week in our land. Combining the length of our stay in the Zephyr’s Lair, our time with Vee, and the hours of travel in between...” My stomach dropped. “It”s been about a month.”
“A month!?” she shrieked in disbelief.
I nodded, dreading the Sultan’s reaction. He”d requested that I check in with him daily, and considering the last time we spoke was two weeks ago for him, I couldn”t even imagine how angry he must be. Reaching out through our bond, I prepared myself for the full force of his fury, only to be met with a disorienting emptiness I hadn’t felt since before the Hunters captured me.
I couldn”t sense Sultan Ghazi.
My heart pounded, each beat echoing in the emptiness where his influence should’ve been.
“What do we do now?”
Her voice sounded distant and garbled as I tried to grapple with this new reality. For centuries, the invasive genio bond had been a fact of my existence, shackles I’d long since accepted as permanent. Though freedom was the one thing I yearned for more than anything, this sudden... quiet was terrifying.
Why couldn”t I sense the Sultan? The ground shifted beneath me as I gripped my chest, struggling to breathe. As Huriyah nudged my arm in alarm, his distressed whinny drew Nahlah”s attention.
“Rami?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”
Gathering my scattered senses, I straightened, determined not to reveal how rattled I was. “I”m a little dizzy,” I answered. “It must be the heat.” Huriyah immediately whinnied, angrily stomping his hoof at my lie as he nudged me again, this time more aggressively.
Nahlah darted a glance at him, her brows furrowing as she looked back up at me. ”Are you sure?”
”Yes.” Wanting to redirect the focus, I gestured to a cluster of honeybelle trees. “Let’s rest in the shade and figure out where to go next.”
“Okay,” she agreed reluctantly, her tone suggesting she was far from convinced but willing to let it drop. As we navigated toward the trees, I kept my expression blank as she watched me through narrowed eyes, and an annoyed horse snorted beside me.
Why couldn”t I sense him?