Some houses are not built for protection… but to be the last thing standing when everything else collapses.
At the first thread of morning light,
before Saba had fully awakened from the nightmares of its night,
the stone house atop the mountain began to hear what brought no comfort.
Footsteps.
Not hesitant.
Not random.
Measured steps,
moving in circles,
drawing closer, then stopping,
as if counting the breaths of those inside.
Aram sprang from his place,
his sword already in hand before full awareness caught up with him.
His body moved on a warrior's instinct,
without question, without hesitation.
Solan stood at the narrow window,
his eyes scanning the gray expanse.
Siham held the opposite opening,
steady as a drawn string.
And Karem pressed his fingers around the hilt of his dagger,
as if only the metal restrained him from striking.
Solan whispered, barely audible:
"They're not passing through…
this is an encirclement."
Through the stone slits,
they saw shadows moving around the house.
Soldiers.
Humans…
and among them, shapes that did not move like the rest,
their motion heavier,
their gazes not searching but knowing.
The siege was complete.
The house was not fortified,
nor prepared for a prolonged fight,
and all of them knew the brutal truth:
If combat began here,
it would not end in their favor.
Then
The knock thundered against the door.
Strong.
Direct.
Not a threat,
but a declaration.
Aram raised his hand for stillness,
stepped forward with measured pace,
his heart bracing for the worst:
An assault.
A betrayal.
Or a swift end.
Before his hand reached the wooden bar
A voice came.
A voice he knew.
A voice he had believed lost forever
in the darkness of the chasm.
"Open up, Aram…
before we break the door."
Time froze for a single heartbeat.
Then the door opened.
And the shock struck.
Tavar.
Standing there in torn clothes,
his face pale,
but his eyes
Unbroken.
Behind him stood men.
Familiar faces.
The men of the chasm.
And around the house,
the bodies of soldiers lay scattered.
Silent falls.
Swift resolutions.
No screams.
No spectacle.
Aram did not speak.
He took a single step forward,
then pulled Tavar into a fierce embrace,
as if only the body could believe what the eyes saw.
Tavar said, catching his breath:
"We weren't going to die there…
not before we finished."
They entered.
The door closed.
A heavy moment fell
a moment filled with things left unsaid.
They sat.
And Tavar spoke.
He told them how Seraph had come to him in the cell,
how he had believed the meeting to be an announcement of the end,
then how the jinni revealed himself,
what he had done,
and of the covenant not yet broken.
He spoke of his rescue,
of how he was guided to the chasm,
of a passage visible only to jinn eyes,
and how the men of the chasm returned to the light
one by one,
while the palace burned in chaos.
He gestured as he said:
"The escape ignited the palace.
Ronen lost control.
He unleashed the soldiers,
spread the search everywhere."
Then he paused,
as if the next words weighed too much to carry.
"And he changed the plan."
Aram lifted his head instantly.
His eyes narrowed.
His mind outran the question.
"He won't wait for the caravan," Tavar said.
"He'll execute the king…
soon."
Silence fell.
It was not news to be answered.
It was a blow to be absorbed first.
After a moment, Aram asked:
"And Seraph?"
Tavar replied:
"He said he'd return with word."
They did not wait long.
Seraph appeared as shadows do when summoned,
confirming everything:
The execution was imminent.
Before the heir.
Before the plan could fail.
Here
Minds began to move.
Karem spoke, his eyes alight:
"If I had white salt…
I could make a fire
that would throw the entire palace into confusion."
Rayhan added:
"And I
with the right sand,
I could hide an entire army."
They looked at their packs.
Nothing sufficient.
No time to experiment.
Tavar said with heavy regret:
"The cavern…
everything we need is there.
But it takes time…
time we don't have."
Seraph inhaled slowly,
then said a single sentence
that shifted everything:
"And if I give you the time?"
All eyes turned to him at once.
"I can carry three…
to anywhere.
And return them
before anyone notices they were gone."
Aram understood instantly.
No discussion.
No vote.
He spoke the names without hesitation:
Karem.
Tavar.
Rayhan.
To the cavern.
Then Marana stepped forward,
her voice steady despite the fear:
"I want my brother with me…
I don't want him far away if we fall."
Aram agreed,
returned the wooden key of the cavern to Tavar,
offering a brief, aching smile:
"That's your charge."
Seraph agreed.
They settled on leaving by night,
and returning before the next dawn.
Aram remained with the others.
He stood by the window,
gazing at the distant palace,
which from above looked
like a beast waiting for its prey.
He said with calm severity:
"We have a mountain…
and we have vision…
and we will turn this place
into our ground."
And he began to draw the plan.
Assigning roles.
Measuring distances.
Counting breaths.
And in his heart,
he knew with certainty:
Tomorrow…
would not belong
to Saba alone.
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