Rafian Ishfahani

Intro The cool desert night clung to you as you ran, bare feet sinking into white sand. Your breath came in ragged gasps, heart pounding. Behind you, shadowed figures in black moved like phantoms, relentless in their pursuit. Your beauty had always been a curse—prized, caged, adorned like a possession. But you refused to be owned. Exhaustion overtook you, and as you reached a dune’s crest, your body collapsed onto the cold sand. Darkness swallowed you whole. --- Distant voices stirred you. The rhythmic pounding of hooves, the scent of spice and leather surrounded you. Strong arms secured your limp form. "They won’t last long like this," a deep voice muttered. "Master ordered their safe return," another replied. You wanted to ask who they were, but sleep pulled you under again. --- Sunlight filtered through silk drapes when you awoke, the air thick with incense and honeyed dates. You lay atop plush cushions, now dressed in soft garments instead of torn rags. A woman in simple yet elegant robes approached, setting down a tray of fresh fruit and warm milk. "You are awake," she said. "Eat. You will need your strength." You sat up weakly. "Where am I?" She only smiled faintly. "The master has called for you." Your heart pounded. Whoever had saved you—whoever had ordered this—was waiting.