This is one of our two 'Lust Ennead contest' winners @Fiery_FS with Dead Leaf. Congratulations on the win and for writing such a great entry for us to enjoy.

He had been sure that after death, he of all people, would be bestowed with a place in heaven.

And why not?

He had been a noble and a gallant ruler. Was tolerant and humane even to the prisoners of war and had been more victorious than any of his predecessors. The people and his kingdom touched new boundries under his leadership. He was showered with blessings, not due to fear but out of sheer respect and admiration. His people still idolize and worship him, generation after generation; and he knows that he does not deserve it.

If only they knew, that Sultan Ibrahim Suleiman was here, stuck and rotting in the 2nd circle of hell. Who would believe that the invincible and gallant Sultan is facing a raging tempest that makes him swerve everytime like a dead leaf..?

They wouldn't believe, because in their eyes Sultan Ibrahim had been nothing but an ideal ruler. He had won wars spreading his territory. Took measures which ensured the betterment of his subjects. What more was expected from a king? It seemed certain that he had made his forefathers proud and thus would be received in the heaven with a great pomp and show. Sure he had the tendency of being supercilious, but it was a customary character trait among the people belonging to his stature.

However, no one knew what went through the Sultan's psyche. No bets on the reasons behind his every action; the ulterior motive behind his every move.

On the contrary, it didn't take him long to understand why he was here.

He always knew, deep within, that he had been a great king but a pathetic human being. His God was making him pay for his deeds. Deeds which he was guilty of, but never thought them to be equivalent of a sin.

He wasn't aware of the fact, that, in the eyes of that Supreme Leader, hurting someone intentionally was no less than brutally killing them.

And he had wronged and hurt someone. Someone very close to his heart. Someone he very dearly loves. He still remembers all those beautiful moments he had spent with Zari.

Zaryab Sulatana was his best friend, his childhood sweetheart, his first wife and the woman who gave his Sultanate their next leader.

Zaryab and Ibrahim were betrothed at an early age and grew up together. They were inseparable since childhood, as thick as thieves roaming and stirring trouble around the castle.

Ibrahim didn't allow anyone to separate his Zari from himself. That was the reason why Zaryab Ibrahim Suleiman excelled in politics and swordsmanship. She was a skilled female equestrian and had a vast knowledge about astronomy and medicinal herbs. She was a better warrior than any of Ibrahim's brothers.

No wonder, when Ibrahim took over the throne Zaryab turned out to be his most trusted confidant and advisor.

Like the intricate work of 'Zari', she too was delicate, her beliefs woven with gold and silver, royal yet impactful. She understood Ibrahim like no one else and was never afraid of pointing out his mistakes on his face. She was his backbone, his home.

Her slender figure and ivory skin. That diamond stud, sitting on her dainty nose, which sparkled under the sun. Her long straight black hair which swayed on her thin waist. All this managed to leave him spellbound, always.

As his power and realm grew, so did his responsibilities and pressure. Soon he started loosing control and lashing out at anyone and everyone. He stopped taking advise due to the fear of being judged as an incompetent ruler.

He started favouring the company of sweet-talking crafty men who flattered him with praises and complements, over his wise and loyal courtiers. With no sensible advisor by his side, he started making impetuous decisions.

His vainglory didn't even spare his relation with Zaryab, it became unpleasant in spite of the blind trust, companionship and deep understanding they had shared for almost four decades.

It didn't happen in minutes, no! His Zari wasn't the one who gave up this easily but he had pushed her, stubbornly and heartlessly until her broken heart and bruised self-respect forced her to accept defeat.

He had used heart-rending words, which, on recollecting, still make his cold and dead heart wrench in pain.

His new sly council had made him believe that as a conqueror, the women were his possession, and the size of the harem was an ultimate symbol of a Sultan's power. This had managed to satisfy his puffed-up pride.

He started capturing women, filling his harem with concubines and slaves. He was well aware that Zaryab would never approve to his tyrannic ways but he didn't bother.

As his harem started getting filled with nubile women, he became imperious and ignorant towards his Zari.

He knew, there were days when his queen yearned for her best friend and lover's attention but he didn't bother and deliberately ignored her. Looking back, now, he sees himself as nothing but a cold-hearted fool; he is ashamed.

Not long after, lust overpowered his love completely. He started spending large part of his day with the young concubines of his harem. Neither anyone bothered nor dared to correct his ways. He became insensitive and disrespectful towards women, treated them like playthings.

His reasons for indulging in warfare altered. He stopped making allies and thinking about the welfare of his people. His every decision was fuelled by lust. He started declaring and winning wars with a sole purpose of upgrading his harem.

While the Sultan was busy in plotting the downfall of his state, Zaryab resorted to concentrate upon the upbringing of their son, the next Sultan.

But one day something struck, like a bolt of thunder, clearing the clouds of conceit from Sultan's vision. The reality in front of him was horrifying.

The news of Zaryab Sultana's death shattered the kingdom along with him. He had cried like a baby that day, squalling and begging God for a chance to apologise to his best friend but alas.

His harem, filled with women, started disgusting him. He was ashamed and repulsed by himself. But at that time, the only things left with him were regret, guilt and self-hate.

When clueless people adjudged him to be grieving, he was dying a slow and torturous death. When they advised him to move on, he didn't know how to. His harem, bustling with activity started haunting him; Zaryab's absence tormented him. He had gone to her chamber, not once but hundred of times, spent hours sitting besides her bed and talking, wishing that somehow she would hear him.

They say, "guilt is an incredibly powerful emotion, It eats a person, hollow, from within" and so happened with him. He started detesting himself and the rivals started taking advantage of the situation.

But he couldn't care less. All he wanted was to beg for forgiveness. Beg on his knees for Zari's forgiveness.

If given a chance, he would ask her to talk to him, while laying beneath her favourite Mango tree; Zari loved speaking. Or maybe he would caress her features, her large, bright brown eyes and her pink lips. Or maybe feel her nimble fingers run all over his face. His soul craved for her; still does.

Soon the attacks increased and his empire was in grave danger. But even after leaving the world, his Zari didn't leave his hand, Their son stepped in and took over the throne; as a parting gift to him from his childhood love.

Watching their son rule and make decisions which rectified his mistakes gave him the glimpse of Zaryab Sultana. Each action of their son screamed Zaryab's guidance and he couldn't have been more relieved.

Not long after, Sultan Ibrahim fell ill. It seemed like finally God had decided to hear his plea of not wanting to live without her. So when death knocked his doors, he had left eagerly in an hope of reuniting with her but found himself stuck, paying for his sins.

Undulating and swinging, his soul still wishes to cleanse itself off the sinful acts and then reunite with his soulmate, his Zari.

Glossary-

1) Harem- It referred to the domestic private spaces that were traditionally reserved for the women to serve the purpose of maintaining their modesty, privilege and protection.

The royal harems however were large in size and housed the wives, concubines, pre-pubescent male children, unmarried daughters and female servants of the palace.

2) Zari work- It is an intricate art of weaving threads, made up of fine gold or silver, into fabrics made up of silk. Traditionally zari was used as an embellishment of the royal attire.