The sun blazed mercilessly over Duneshara, a kingdom carved from sandstone and old blood, where golden minarets reached toward the sky like the fingers of starving men. The air shimmered with heat, and the streets of the lower city bustled with life — not joy, not ease, but life in its most enduring form.
Heaven walked the narrow, sunlit path with a woven basket in her hands, its contents hardly enough to feed a family. Her dark hair was braided loosely down her back, strands sticking to her damp skin. Her eyes — vast and storm-dark — stared forward, vacant. She wasn't seeing the shops that lined both sides of the dusty street. She didn't see the vendor shouting about spiced figs or the children chasing each other in rags. Her thoughts were buried too deep in sorrow.
The people around her wore the layered garments of ancient desert life. The poor were wrapped in faded linens, stitched too many times, their veils dull and tattered — faces half-covered, not only for protection but to hide hunger and shame. The wealthy, in contrast, strolled beneath parasols held by servants, cloaked in silks of desert rose, saffron, and emerald. Their veils shimmered with gold thread, and their shoes clicked on the stone roads like the hooves of entitled beasts.
The market overflowed with color and scent — trays of fresh flatbread, cured meats, dried fruits, sandals of camel hide, scarves dyed with indigo and crushed rubies, glinting jewelry stolen from conquered caravans. Yet to Heaven, it was all background noise, a world detached from her own dread.
Then, a hand caught her arm.
"Heaven!" gasped Rasha, her friend, breathless and wide-eyed. "It's your home… they're there. The loan sharks. They're—"
The basket dropped. Heaven ran.
She sprinted through the crowd, past the whispers and glances, her sandals slapping the dry stone. Her heart pounded faster than her feet. When she reached her home — a crumbling clay dwelling in the edgeward alleys of Duneshara — her breath caught in her throat.
The door was broken off its hinges. The room inside was in ruin — overturned chairs, shattered pots, walls scuffed with footprints and blood. Her mother knelt by the wall, weeping. Her long hair was torn loose, her veil missing. On the floor, beside a shattered stool, stood Irman — her seventeen-year-old brother — trembling, his hands slick with red.
"Oh lord…" Heaven dropped to her knees beside him, grabbing his shoulders. "Irman! What…..what happened?!"
He didn't speak at first. He just stared at his hands, then at their mother, then at the body near the door , a man groaning faintly, blood soaking his back and pooling beneath him.
"He was going to rape her," Irman said quietly, jaw clenched, voice broken. "He had her pinned. He was laughing. I—I didn't think. I grabbed the knife. I stabbed him. Again and again. Until he let go."
Heaven's breath faltered. Her stomach turned.
In Duneshara, to raise a hand against a man, a wealthy man, one tied to the king's coffers was to sign one's own death.
"You've killed a loan shark," she whispered. "Irman… you'll hang."
She seemed to be lost in mind for a sec before he turned to her brother " you have to run, you have to get out of here, they'll take you." She said as she held his shoulders with both of her hands as she shook him, but he denied
"I don't care."
"Irman!!!!!" She screamed his name out.
His eyes burned, furious and wet. "I won't run Heaven!!!" He screamed at her, she wanted to scold him but he added " They'll come for all of us if I do."
She knew he wasn't wrong, his brother, a peasant who owned nothing, killed one of the government's people, he'll be punished, and if he runs, they'll all be put in utter danger, it wasn't something they should take lightly.
Her mother asked towards them, her gown ripped, hair messy with all the pulling with bruises on her face, neck and shoulders " your brother is right heaven, running won't solve anything, rather… it will cause more problems then we already have… we know irman won't get away with this, that man did something wrong to me, out of law, irman will be punished severely…. But not killed"
She knew her mother was right, but her heart was still heavy, if it wasn't for her mother, she would've run away with her younger brother irman along time ago, but she couldn't, her mother would suffer without them, her father was irresponsible, and about that…..
"Where is father?" Heaven asked bitterly, already knowing the answer.
Their mother sobbed harder. "He's in the streets … gambling. He sold everything. Even my wedding bangles, God knows what he'll take this time with him to sell."
A scream built in Heaven's throat but never escaped, she stood up, ready to go and face her father for what he had done. The problems, all of these is because of him, them losing everything, the loan sharks coming at them and even irman killing someone was his fault, and yet, instead of learning, he went ahead to gamble instead. That man never learns…. She was about to walk out when she heard them, the sound of hell , her mother sobbed as she hugged irman.
the drums of approaching guards thundered from the street.
They came in like dogs — loan sharks and royal guards alike. Without a word, they grabbed Irman. Heaven and her mother tried to stop them. They screamed. Clawed. Begged. One guard struck her mother in the stomach. Another backhanded Heaven so hard she saw white. Irman struggled and shouted, but they dragged him away.
"I'll be fine!" Irman cried out as he was being dragged away, blood dripping from his mouth. "Don't cry! I'll be fine!"
They knew he wouldn't, but the worst thing they feared wouldn't happen to him….. probably.
And the silence left behind said otherwise.
Neighbors came once the soldiers were gone. They cursed the father. They wept with the women and helped sweep the blood away. Someone brought food, it was the one who told heaven what was happened at her home, her one friend, Rasha. She brought bread and water. Another gave Heaven an old salve. But it was dust in her mouth.
They stayed with them for the day and helped them get back on their feet, they talked about other things to keep them away from thinking about what would happen to irman, and it worked. For a while they forgot, but soon the sun set, and night fell.
And with it came the devil himself.
Their father stumbled in, drunk, stained in sweat and pride. He reeked of arak and loss.
"Esha!!!!" He called, his wife's name "Esha!!!!" He called once more
Heaven, as if struck by lightning, she rose from her corner like a storm. "You," she said, her voice trembling. "You did this. You sold us for your luck!" She went to him screaming at the top of her lungs, ready to face anything that would come her way, and as if she predicted it…
He slapped her.
Her head cracked against the wall.
He grabbed her by the collar and roared, spit flying. "I am the man of this house!! You've father!!! You dare…..!"
"Then why do you only bring ruin?" she screamed.
He threw her against the other wall and hurt her shoulder badly, he was coming at her again when her mother interfered.
She tore him away. More shouting. More pain. Then he collapsed on the mat, cursing them in his sleep.
Heaven stared at Him as she held on her shoulder, pain hitting her hard. She stood up and was about to kick him when her mother stopped her
" I know he lacks" she said , but he's still your father"
Good or worse, her mother was right, he was still her father, hitting him would bring nothing but Bad luck in her married life.
" I hate him mother" she said as she sobbed.
" Irman isn't her because of him, Only God knows….."
" shhhhh" her mother silenced her and layed her on her lap. " all will be fine" she told her " these are hard times that God sent for us, but it will pass, don't worry"
I hope so... she said as she got lost in the land of dreams on her mother's lap.
But the morning came , and with it, a strange mercy knocked on their door.
It was morning, heaven was sweeping the dry rocks, her mother making something for breakfast, when the man woke up.
He walked out of the room and pain shot in his eyes, it was bright…. He complained… too bright.
" heaven, bring me some water"
Heaven cussing him out quietly, went to take the water for her father, the last drop of it that is.
In a bowl, she brought him water.
He took the water and washed his face and emptied the rest by drinking it, his throat was killing him….. before his family does
"Irman!!!!" He called out "Irman!!!!" No answer, his wife heard him calling out to their son, but she had no strength of telling him what happened.
"Where is that Good for nothing boy?!!!"
" At the Prison"