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DILRUBA BADAWI WASN'T SURE IF SHE WOULD EVER see the tahararat min alkhatiya again. Yes, perhaps she would come across more of his kind—like the one she had danced for in Tayma—but they would all never truly be what this tahararat min alkhatiya had been to her.

"I admire your self control, Dilruba," He had suddenly said to her when they had parted more than three days ago now, at the darkest hour in the night underneath a sickle moon, in the lands of Al Diwan where Abelhamid had his guild and his abode.

"You burn with questions about Abelhamid, you ache to know what occurred between us—what wishes I once granted for him, and how we reached such a point that the man can now use only a name he gave me to weaken me whenever he wishes to do so. You want to know everything I know about him, and you know I know so much more than you do."

"That fact alone discomforts you, and you must agree when I say that keeping his past and purpose from you is perhaps one of the very few noble things Abelhamid has ever done in his life."

"But you are more than just curious, Dilruba, you ache to know, and despite your desperation, you are patient and considerate. You asked your lover and he refused, so you stopped asking. You want to ask me but you fear that knowing a former genie's past is an accursed thing, so you don't want to risk yourself and neither do you want me to condemn myself to further hell by telling you. I admire your control, my friend. You are one of your kind, Hegra's court dancer and poetess. I admire your retreat as well, wherever it may lead you."

The tahararat min alkhatiya's parting words still rang in her head now, as they had for the past three days, and she felt braver with them reverberating inside of her like a companion—his voice still sounding as though he was in front of her, speaking to her directly with his knowing tone.

It was now more than three full days since Dilruba had taken Kiah and left Burhan Abelhamid's guild, and it had been two days since they had exited the vast lands of Al Diwan entirely, following the map that the former genie had given to her like it was divine scripture. She was so terrified of taking a different path by mistake, so much so that she kept the map open in front of her—her emerald eyes instantly on the parchment every ten seconds as she alternated her gaze from her path ahead to the map.

She hadn't slept a wink, anxious as she had been that Burhan's men—Ahud and Yunis—might still be at her heels in pursuit after they had discovered her missing, and would instantly find her if she rested somewhere to close her eyes. And even now that she was long off the lands of Al Diwan, she was still paranoid.

Dilruba was exhausted, but it was a balanced sort of exhaustion. Upon exiting Al Diwan, two days ago, she had come across a merchant traveling with his wares and three spare camels.

Allah's grace had been at her side, for the merchant had long lost his way and was heading into Al Diwan instead of the city of Thāj where he had initially intended to go to sell his wares—wares that consisted of beautiful scented perfumes that Dilruba and Kiah both had a delight sampling, and of course the man had been kind enough to let them sample his best concoctions, infusing their senses with beautiful exotic scents amidst the dense heat of the desert.

Dilruba aided him in finding the route to Thāj that he had so strayed from unknowingly, using the map that the tahararat min alkhatiya had given her, and then she had mustered up the courage to ask for the purchase of a spare camel. Her jewelry hadn't been enough for the price the man had in mind, but he had been gracious enough to offer her a discount, taking only some pieces of her jewelry and giving her one of his wild Bactrian camels in exchange—a tall beast of dirty white with two mighty humps on its back.

Dilruba had also gotten a bottle of luxurious smelling Agarwood mixed with a heady musk of amber and frankincense—a scent both her and Kiah had fallen in love with at first smell. It was the kind merchant too who had given Kiah her name, and his compassion had solidified itself in Dilruba's impression of the man with that gesture alone.

"Ah, she is beautiful, isn't she?" He had mused, watching Carpet with sun weathered eyes as she sniffed at the perfume samples he had displayed for them.

"She is," Dilruba had smiled, recalling some information that the tahararat min alkhatiya had shared with her. "She is from the Cave of Wonders in Jerash."

"The Cave of Wonders? So she survived the collapse? They say that all the wealth of those caves was taken back into the sands, no amount of digging will ever bring them back."

Dilruba had only nodded. The Cave of Wonders in Jerash had been an unbreachable thing of fantasy and myth, many had doubted the Cave's existence for many years until a warlock—The Sultan of Agrabah's sham royal advisor—had dragged Aladdin into the caves and had made him retrieve the lamp with the tahararat min alkhatiya inside, and Carpet too had followed out. The caves had collapsed then, and what had followed in its wake had been the royal advisor's desperate attempt to use the genie to take over the Sultan's throne, which had ultimately fallen short in lieu of the Aladdin's control over the lamp and the genie.

Multiple stories and events existed of times where all present Sultans of cities had faced attempts at their thrones, but none of those stories mattered enough unless the attempts succeeded. When a Sultan was dethroned, it was cause for mourning and secret celebration of times to come, and everyone in Ancient Arabia talked about the dethronement for a good few years to come, regardless of how far away the city was where the dethronement had taken place. So The Sultan of Agrabah's—her uncle's brief victimicy, hadn't really made as big of a news as his daughter's consequent marriage to the street rat who had aided in the recovery, did.

"She is a survivor," Dilruba had managed to the merchant, her eyes fixed on Carpet.

To which the man nodded and smiled. "Then you should name her Kiah."

The name had sounded more than just fitting. Kiah meant a new life, a new beginning. And in the desert, with Dilruba basically uprooting Carpet from the brief life the being had known and taking her to Hegra, a new life and a new beginning was a concept that the Hegran girl desperately wanted to welcome for both their sakes.

So the name Kiah had stuck, and now her companion was named Kiah, and the being too approved heartily of her given name.

In summation, the merchant had given Dilruba Badawi more than she could've ever hoped for in the journey she had undertaken and the kind of people she could've imagined she'd meet along the way—especially after the tahararat min alkhatiya's warning about the travelers at Dadan, except, she hadn't reached Dadan yet. But now, two days later, astride a Bactrian camel with Kiah seated in front of her, holding the camel's neck with two golden tassels to support herself, Dilruba Badawi was feeling more confident in her journey than she had at any point before.

The contents of her sack—affixed at the camel's side—was less jewelry than she had had before, much less food than she had had before, but an addition of a bottle of extravagant perfume, and for a court dancer who considered herself and her appearance a currency, perfumes could almost replace water for her soul—that was how much Dilruba liked scents.

Granted, the presence of the perfume in her sack also constituted simpler times—to times when all she had to worry about was her appearance, for as long as people were looking at her, her body would remind her of her dance routines and her performance would flow smoothly every time.

The desert landscape was wide and repetitive in a way that it conjured human sight and commanded it in such a way that mere precious sense became a slave, and through the eyes and the sight, so did the mind. Dilruba Badawi was certain this was how people lost themselves in the sun and the heat of the blaring, ruthless sun above. She was certain that had she not had Kiah by her side, she too would've lost herself and never found herself in Hegra—at least not in the way that she knew herself to be, for the body could travel to many places could it not? But does the mind remain the same upon arrival at any destination? Does the heart?

Granted, Dilruba was not the person she recognized herself to be even with Kiah at her side. She was no longer the person who had set forth from Hegra to Agrabah, all to attend her cousin's wedding celebration. So much had occurred since then, and at present, try as she might, she could not in herself feel the sense of recognition and confidence that she had once felt in herself before.

Yes, she was doing what the old Dilruba would've done, not straying from her own self defined path of righteousness, regardless of stumbling and falling head first in love with a merciless criminal. But why then had the experience so changed her? She was still making the decision she knew to be right in the end, but why did having had the experience make going back home.. Empty? Like she was missing something integral in her life now?

She did not want to think about Burhan Abelhamid. How could he have left such a hole in her when he did not even exist to her a whole month ago? How could someone so blatantly come into her life and her heart, carve out a space for themselves by viciously pushing all of her inner flesh and organs aside, and then leave such a gaping hole when they left? Could not her organs re-adjust? Could not she go back to her default life feeling as she had felt before she came to Agrabah?

The tahararat min alkhatiya had doubted it. He had claimed—suggested—that she was foolish to assume she could just fit herself right back in as though the space she left in life and time had maintained itself faithfully for her presence again. But was it such a foolish thing to expect? Was she really such a fool?

No, she wasn't. Abdelhamid was just.. A time. A beautiful time during a tumultuous season, but still a time. His presence had been akin to shelter. His attentions towards her, his words to her, his actions for her, his love on her. Everything had been a time, and times came to an end. Time passed and it flowed and newer times came, did they not?

Ibn al-'Amid, a Yemeni poet, once said in a verse, 'A soul—dearer to me than my own soul—gave shade to me, protecting me from the sun. It gave shade to me, how strange, a sun shading me and protecting me from the sun.'

Burhan was dear to her, even though he was now just a period of time for Dilruba. But the Hegran girl had promised off her own soul and body to him—she had promised it all away to a period in time, and now even though newer times might come, she was not as free as she had been before. She would no longer be as free as she had been before. She would never love another man like she had loved Burhan and still did, and she would never let another man touch her like he had. And having lived for twenty-five years, she decided she was lucky to have had the experience of love that she had—regardless of how brief it was—and the loss did not feel entirely like a loss anymore.

When Dilruba centered herself away from her thoughts and came to her present, she realized that Kiah's body was twisted as her forefront was turned up to look at her whilst her upper two tassels still carefully held the back of the camel's neck.

"What is it?" Dilruba asked, her brows furrowing as she tried to decipher her companion.

Conversation with Kiah was challenging for the most part, for at times she struggled to make herself be understood. Dilruba had to be patient and try to understand the being even amidst the flurry of quick anxious motions that Kiah presented in place of words. Some of her movements were obvious enough to translate, whilst others just left Dilruba exasperated and clueless. She wished that she could understand the being with just as much fluency that the tahararat min alkhatiya had, so that Kiah did not feel frustrated or misunderstood, for surely both the latter feelings were horrible to feel when one was traipsing through the heat of a desert.

At present, Kiah only merely looked at Dilruba curiously, and the latter girl had—in lieu of the absence of eyes or even a face—at least learned to decipher the emotions that overtook the magical being's form under complete control. So in some way, if not complete easy conversation, at least something had been accomplished, had it not?

"What's the matter?" Dilruba tried softly again, "Do you want us to stop briefly again, or are you merely curious about my thoughts?"

Thankfully, Kiah did not eat. Dilruba was not sure what beings like her sustained their bodies on—or if they sustained themselves at all—but it certainly was not human food, so it was only Dilruba was dwindling the food ration she had brought, and it was only her own mouth that she had to worry about feeding.

Kiah let go of one tassel from the camel's neck and waved it in a circular motion, nodding her head. She had picked the second option, she was merely curious about Dilruba's thoughts.

"Well," The Hegran girl managed a smile. "I'm thinking about poetry, I suppose. Do you realize how every feeling we have ever felt and everything we go through in life, it is all already spoken in verse? How come there's rarely an original experience to write a verse about? How come everything that there is and will be, has already been covered by poets?"

Kiah turned her head to a side, gazing out perhaps at the wide expanse of the desert to their right as the Bactrian camel both of them were seated upon, trotted on.

"I believed Allah did not have favorites amongst men," Dilruba continued, "I used to think he loved all of his creations equally, but perhaps, he loves the poets just a little more."

Kiah turned to look at the Hegran girl again, and Dilruba laughed.

"Do you find that upsetting?"

Dilruba raised her hands to push her cloak off her head, welcoming the light of the sun directly on her head as she gathered her loose hair in both hands and gathered it all into a thick knot at the top of her head, before re-adjusting the hood of the cloak on her head. The entirety of her back was moist with her perspiration, and now that her hair was up, she could feel a slight cooling effect.

"It is alright, I think. I don't mind it," She said then, "Why should the poets not be the favorites? Do not they have so much wisdom to give? Do they not feel everything as deeply as Allah intended man to feel? Perhaps all those who appreciate life and live as Allah has intended for us to live, are His favorites."

"And that includes you, sweet Kiah," Dilruba smiled. "You are surely amongst the favorites, how could you not be?"

"A gentle creature like you. I think you're merely upset in vain," The girl turned to squint her eyes, fixating them on the horizon to her left. So far, everything around them was the same. The same sand dunes, and the same sunlight as far as the eye could see.

"All this will pass, you know," Dilruba Badawi uttered then, meeting Kiah's eyes—well, where someone's eyes usually are—with an assurance. "I know it feels like we have been traveling forever, and I know we don't have a proper guide but this map that the tahararat min alkhatiya gave me, but we are on the right path. We will be seeing the Lion Tombs of Dadan any hour now, peeking from above these dreary desert plains. If you want, we can also explore the tombs when we stop for a rest. Would you like that? We will be careful."

"I adore tombs, they are so fascinating to me. Back in Hegra, I often visit the Tomb of Lihyan, son of Kuza," The Hegran girl reminisced. "There's something about those tombs. I have a.. connection, to that place. And I can never explain it even to Ahya, but someday I shall explain it to you. It is a magnificent place, regardless of the man for whom it is a tribute. I will show you the tombs when we arrive in Hegra, but for now, we shall explore the Lion Tombs of Dadan together, shan't we?"

Kiah nodded, an urgency in her nods that depicted her excitement. It was a relief in some ways, having a companion like her at your side. Dilruba was conscious and grateful for how Kiah was always energized, and full of strong emotions. She wanted to ask why that was. Allah, Dilruba wanted to ask so many questions about the being's past and how she had come to be in Cave of Wonders in Jerash, for the tahararat min alkhatiya hadn't offered that information and Dilruba hadn't asked back then. But who thought of questions or dwelled on curiosity when their hearts were beating wildly in their ears and there was hurt escalating in the spaces the organ had left behind in their chest?

The time for questions and dwelling on one's curiosity was now, in the thick of the desert with nothing but silence encapsulating every moment, and a wide expanse of land all around and ahead. Except, Dilruba was certain if she asked any questions she had about Kiah, it would be a difficult conversation, perhaps both in the way of conveying and understanding.

"Do not get entangled in this cycle of days and nights," Dilruba uttered then, "For there are other times and places that belong to you."

Kiah tilted her head—where head usually is—to look at Dilruba again, her fabric body twisting effortlessly.

"It is Qabbani's verse," Dilruba spoke, smiling, before looking away and lowering her voice. "One of the most influential poets from the city of Thāj."

"Allah, could I have met him, do you think?" She glanced at Kiah again. "Thāj was just.. there. I've never been, and surely entering a city in the hopes of meeting a poet who has long retired—from work, and life both, perhaps—is less dangerous than entering a city to attend a Princess' wedding? Surely?"

"At least," Dilruba tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. "At least, I should hope so."

"I shall never travel for leisure again, Kiah," The Hegran girl mustered a slow smile, her eyes stinging at the realization. "I can not. This trip to Agrabah, I thought I enforced it. I had thought it was something I decided for myself. But it wasn't. The governor of Hegra—he's my patron—had already written to my uncle and promised my talents for the wedding celebration. He was merely waiting for me to come to him and ask permission for a trip that I believed was my own decision. He gave me that effect—that delusion. He did not deny it to me."

"And now," Dilruba dropped her gaze to her lap. "Now after everything that has happened, the governor will never let me go anywhere—if it isn't for an appointment arranged by him—again. Even though he did arrange appointments for me in Agrabah and would've sent me either way had I not wanted to go. But.. this is just how he is."

"I'm not sure how much he knows—how much Salman Chalhoub has told him, that is, if the royal advisor managed to leave Agrabah and is back in Hegra at present. But I'm prepared to accept it all and ask for the governor's pardon. I can't.. I can't do without his patronage, Kiah. At least, I don't believe so."

Kiah shook her head, motioning out something that seemed like anger directed at someone else—the governor of Hegra or Salman Chalhoub, most likely.

Dilruba mustered a laugh. "Allah, I should really stop speaking. I have ruined your mood have I not? I have ruined both our moods."

Kiah did not say—do—anything else, and the pair plunged into a comfortable silence together, the only sound in the air being that of the hot winds whistling against the sand dunes and the deep crunch of their camel's steps in the sands.

The Lion Tombs of Dadan were a miracle sight to behold, when upon the passage of precisely an hour, they had towered into view amongst the desert plains. The structure of the tall tomb, its walls high and eroded into dust somewhat by the markings of time, still stood with might, shouting of its survival to all those who chanced to look upon the ruins. Comparatively, to the Tomb of Lihyan in Hegra, these tombs were ruins.

They were a cluster of standing walls with distances between each other as each tomb separated itself from the tomb beside it. Some tombs were more ruined than the others, but all of them were significantly touched by the cruel passage of time to such a point that had Dilruba been a clueless traveler lost in the desert, she would assume these structures to be only haphazard broken walls created to serve as some sort of dwelling. Only the towering size of these walls would've struck her to guess at them being the ruins of tombs, nothing else.

Dilruba had heard stories about the marvels of structure in a place called Rome—the land of marble and artistry, a pagan land where man thought themselves worthy of carving Gods from stone and marble and then falling on their knees before their own creations. Rome was said to be a cacophony of towering pillars, to the point where it was said that the sky was scarcely visible with one's feet on the ground.

Of course, she had never been there, and never would. Still, she supposed now that she was in The Lion Tombs of Dadan, she could imagine what Rome would look like, looking at these towering broken walls—some tombs had only a single one with heavily eroded edges whilst others had two and the most walls a single tomb had was three. All these walls however, had carvings of lions made in their insides, as though made for only the view of those inside the chambers. The chambers—that should be the result of four walls joined together and protecting a space in between, were non-existent now, all the treasures of the spaces robbed and sold off and the preserved burials of the men and women—The Lions—discarded and turned into dust.

Dilruba Badawi touched the walls of one of the tombs with a bare hand gently, feeling the hard and rocky surface of the yellow sand coloured stone walls, standing in the chamber area of one the tombs. Her finger traced a carving of one of the lower lions on the wall—the etching still so smooth and perfect, having withstood the test of time. She could feel the energy in the stone wall if she closed her eyes and imagined it. The tomb was thrumming with a certain energy—something mixed with a melancholy and a sense of.. grandiose.

Kiah too was entranced, looking about and floating throughout the space, indulging in her own scrutiny. The wild Bactrian camel had been tied to a heavy stone a few yards in front of the tomb they were in, and the animal was just preparing to seat himself in the sand, making a concave space for his seat by pushing sand away using a single foot.

"Do you know who The Lions were, Kiah?" Dilruba spoke softly after a pause as both she and Kiah made their way to another tomb, this one having all three walls intact and giving a clearer sense of the small spaced chamber in between that may have housed treasury and a person's preserved body once.

The carpet looked at Dilruba with curiosity, shaking her head.

"They were a very influential family who lived two centuries ago," The Hegran girl began, recalling all that she knew about the topic as her voice molded into her poetess' tone. "They were wealthy, and grand. But they were selfish and thought themselves superior to everyone else. They did not want to submit to Sultans and be made to live in cities governed, they wanted a land entirely to themselves. They wanted to follow their own rules in life, and not be weighed down by the gravity of the rules that pre-existed, both in religion and in the nature of life."

Kiah was fully captured by the tale, the tomb around her forgotten.

"They wanted their own religion, and a life that did not resemble anyone else's," Dilruba sighed, her emerald eyes fixed on another lion carving she spotted, as she slowly walked over to it and touched the lion's eyes softly with her fingers. The eyes were deeply carved, making the animal appear.. furious.

"So they found these unclaimed lands," The girl sighed, glancing at Kiah and smiling. "The family consisted of Kitan Zumurrud Dadan and his wife Jawla Zumurrud Dadan. It was said they were siblings as well. They moved here and made their settlement here, calling this place Dadan after their late father. Together they had seven children—five sons and two daughters."

Kiah fluttered off the ground, floating right in front of Dilruba's gaze so she would not have to tilt backwards to meet the Hegran girl's eyes.

Dilruba laughed slightly at Kiah's eagerness, reaching out a hand to gently caress one of Kiah's golden tassels—the carpet's hand.

"A scholar visited them once, do you know?" Dilruba continued. "His name was Ihtizaz, and he was—is—still one of the most foundational Arabian scholars on the studies of human nature. Poets and artists, as scholars, refer to his work all the time."

"Anyway," The Hegran girl raised her shoulder briefly. "Ihtizaz came here and visited them out of curiosity. It is because of him we know what we know about Dadan because the family received no one else before or after him. What they withheld from him, Ihtizaz was clever enough to decipher by himself."

"They married the two daughters they had to two of their own sons, and forbade the other three remaining sons to find wives for themselves. One of the remaining sons begged Ihtizaz to take him along, back to civilization and away from his family. But Ihtizaz was a scholar, Kiah, and he knew he would get nowhere if he betrayed people's trusts and beliefs. So he refused to take Mundir Zumurrud Dadan with him."

"But during his time at Dadan, Ihtizaz discovered that the family had made up their own religion. They worshiped the lion, and believed that lions would protect their graves in life and their souls in the afterlife. And as members of their family died, each got a separate tomb built here, even the infants who died because of stillbirths and miscarriages were given tombs just as big."

"But the prospect of the tombs was not known when Ihtizaz was here, all he saw was the beliefs and way of life of this incestuous family who still had years to live. But when his studies on them were complete and he had made to leave, refusing Mundir Zumurrud Dadan's request, Ihtizaz on his journey realized he had forgotten a belonging of his back in Dadan. So the scholar traveled back, and do you know what he found upon his return?"

Kiah fluttered her body in the slow wind, impatient and eager at the story.

"Mundir Dadan had killed himself," Dilruba's voice softened. "He had swallowed large stones and torn himself apart from the inside. The family was discussing the burial and deciding upon whether they should build their first tomb. But Ihtizaz was no longer interested in their plans or way of life. He traveled back to the city he had come from, the city of Bayburt, and sold all of his findings about the family and their nature of living. Then he retired, and never forgave himself for not helping out a young man of nineteen who had sought him in desperation."

Kiah's fabric body slumped, and she floated back onto the ground, seating herself upon a big stone, her head slightly bowed.

Dilruba sighed, bending softly to touch her companion, caressing her back gently.

"It's alright, gentle Kiah," She murmured. "Mundir was the first one of his family to become free. No doubt Allah forgave him for what he had done to himself, and now he is happy. He is very happy. I know he is."

Kiah raised herself to look at Dilruba, nodding with a sudden vigor.

"Let us find Mundir's tomb, shall we?" The Hegran girl smiled. "I don't suppose the names they might've written are visible any longer, but I'm sure we can still figure out which one belonged to him together."

Dilruba and Kiah spread out serenely in the Lion Tombs, hands touching walls and the girl's gentle footsteps cascading throughout one tomb to the next as Kiah floated excitedly around, both of them trying to find the tomb of the nineteen year old Mundir, as the camel they had rode upon gathered his rest in the warm sands which were now turning slightly cooler under the animal's skin. 

In the sky above, the sun was darkening and cooling into a fierce exotic orange, and the blues in the scape were molding into a darker shade. Dilruba Badawi was weary of dallying at Dadan, for the tahararat min alkhatiya's warning still lived in the back of her mind, threatening to rise to the surface. She was careful of not stopping to sleep for hours on end, and would only initiate rests if Kiah or the camel needed them. Kiah could sleep whenever she wanted to, and Dilruba was happy to adjust her on her lap or however Kiah wanted to be adjusted. And Dilruba would get a few hours of sleep in—still mounted atop the camel—whilst Kiah watched the camel's progress and was on alert to wake the Hegran girl up should anything go amiss.

In summation, Dilruba Badawi made sure they did not stop for hours upon end even if it was nighttime, for the moon lit up their course just fine, and traveling at night was indeed a bonus, for one could cover large distances without being spotted.

At present however, the search for Mundir Zumurrud Dadan's tomb was a distraction from their course and plans. And Dilruba knew that time was being wasted in the search. Still, it was a happy distraction, she felt. The distraction offered a consolation like rarely any distractions did, and just this once—since she started this journey—she wanted to feel like she could breathe easily.

But the darkening of the sky awoke many things at The Lion Tombs of Dadan, and as the moon appeared in its full form in the scape above—without the sun having even left yet—it foresaw things that neither Dilruba Badawi or Kiah could ever foresee.