[Detachment is not that you should own nothing, but that nothing should own you.] — Ali ibn Abi Talib

"Is something the matter?" Araumir asked, noticing Azar's depressed expression.

"Nothing. I just don't think I should remain here. My time has passed; everything I knew and loved seems to be long gone from this world, and I don't want to live on memories. I'm thinking it's better if I simply let fate decide the future of my descendants. I don't feel as attached to them as I believed," Azar said.

"Yes, I think you should return to wherever you came from. Just let things be," Hamsha advised, despite no one asking for his opinion.

"My departure brings you joy only because you have never tasted what living as my subordinate feels like," Azar said confidently. "Araumir, what are your thoughts about my decision?"

"I will follow you no matter where you go. The decision is yours, master," Araumir replied.

Azar nodded in silence, resting his empty gaze on the bones remaining on the table. Not even the smell of roasted meat helped alleviate his disturbed emotional condition.

"Syed, Azar Syed, the chief is asking for your and Araumir Syed's presence in the meeting hall," called a voice from outside the tent.

Following their guide, Azar and Araumir walked through the crowded streets, attracting the eyes of many before they were led inside the community hall. Their guide then retreated with a lowered head outside the building to resume his duty as a guard.

Finding themselves the center of attention, as all the elders and important figures of the tribe watched them curiously, Azar and Araumir remained still, unfamiliar with the common etiquette of the current times. But Mohul quickly assisted.

"My people, to the left you have Azar Syed who, as I explained to you before, is likely to be our reborn ancestor. To the right is Araumir Syed, the one who saved our caravan by first defeating the Calabi tribe, then the two Djinn-born people who tried to take our loot," Mohul introduced them. "Please, Azar Syed, Araumir Syed, have a seat." He gestured to the empty cushions at his sides.

Azar nodded in acceptance before moving to take his seat, Araumir following his example.

"Samira, please serve tea to our guests," Mohul said to someone beyond the curtain at his back.

No one responded, but Azar could sense movement. Deep silence and curious gazes followed until a woman with long black hair and dark eyes came to serve the tea.

"This is my wife, Samira," Mohul presented her to his guests, and the woman removed the veil covering her face before making a respectful bow. "Samira, these are the men who saved me this time."

"It is my honor to meet you. I am Samira, Mohul's wife, and I use this opportunity to thank you for saving my husband and our children," she said, making another bow.

Azar made a bow and Araumir mimicked the gesture.

"Faira, your youngest daughter, summoned me back to this world, so first you will have to thank her for all that followed," Azar spoke clearly.

"Yes," Samira responded before covering her face again and returning to the back.

"Forgive me, but I have to ask," said what seemed to be the oldest man present. "Why are you claiming to be our ancestor? My son has told me a few things that I find hard to believe, as my old bones have witnessed many mysteries of the desert, but nothing like what he described."

"Azar Syed, please don't take it as an insult," Mohul said with a bow. "This person is my father, Tariq. He is just curious."

"Like we all are," Lamuda added. "This matter concerns the roots of our tribe," he said after receiving some unfriendly gazes from the elders.

If what Mohul said was true, then by all means, they had to be careful not to attract Azar's wrath.

"Your blood originates from the Tora, a clan that existed about two thousand years ago. Your granddaughter being able to summon my soul is the best proof of that. I was someone from the upper echelons of Tora, so by common sense, I am your ancestor. The place where your grandchildren had entered was the altar I had created for my people to communicate with me. However, I did not expect the mighty Tora to become just a legend of the old days in merely two thousand years," Azar explained, his words pressing heavily on everyone present.

All had their doubts, especially since they had never heard of such a clan. But everyone kept quiet as Tariq voiced his thoughts.

"My father told me stories about the clan you've mentioned, but I considered them to be just that until my son spoke of this matter," Tariq said. "This being the case, I heard that the mighty Tora possessed a great gift from the sky. A pair of unique eyes, if what my father said was correct."

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Azar smiled.

"All the Great Clans have a gift from the sky. I am glad that someone still remembers ours, but this body of mine had stayed in stone for a long time and the profile i set with this thing called fluxolit notified me upon arrival that my bloodline has dissipated," he explained.

"Then, can you show us your profile? So we can see for ourselves?" Tariq asked cunningly.

"I can," Azar said, proceeding to activate the fluxolit as he learned from Kaira.

When his information appeared, Azar let everyone gather and see for themselves. And when even the name of Tora appeared as his affiliation, silence descended over the hall. There were still doubts as the profile could be manually edited in some cases, but most of the people present chose to remain quiet and take into consideration that Azar really might be who he claimed to be.

"Is this enough to make you believe my words?" Azar asked.

"No," Tariq answered truthfully.

"I thought so," Azar said. "Truth be told, it's up to you if you believe my words or not. I am not sure if I will remain in this world for much longer, anyway."

"Why?" Mohul asked. "Is Azar Syed ill?"

"Every soul that comes to incarnate or possess a body has a duration of five days to make a decision. To stay or not. And as the loss of the things and people I knew pains me, I think I will leave after resolving your problem with the Calabi," Azar explained.

"If you have decided to leave, why remain to help us with the Calabi?" Tariq asked, feeling something fishy.

"Because I was summoned by your granddaughter to help her, and I can't return without completing my mission," Azar said.

"How are you planning to deal with them?" Tariq asked.

"Wiping them out always works, but I'm thinking of leaving them a clear order that they won't be able to act against."

"I see," Tariq said after considering a little. "Then let me thank you in advance." He raised his cup of tea.

Azar did the same.

"Now, if you don't have other important things to discuss, I would like to hear your stories, Tariq. I am curious to see what information was transmitted to you. In exchange, I can tell you about the good days of the Tora Clan or impart you with a yellow technique," Azar offered, and in exchange for such a valuable thing as a technique, Tariq accepted.

. . .

Dawn found Azar resting back against a wooden pillar supporting his tent. The orange and red colors of the sun made their presence felt over the horizon as the first morning rays landed on his face. Eyes closed, Azar remained trapped in thought. Not much had he learned from Tariq's stories, but enough to confirm the fall of the old world he lived in.

"You know, when I was little, I always argued with my mother. A difference in perspectives, as I called it later," Azar said to Araumir. "I think I've told you about this before, but allow me to share it with you again."

Araumir just nodded, and when Azar didn't hear a complaint, he continued.

"From an early age, I understood that I could not trust the teachings of my mother, as my understanding was beyond even what she could comprehend. However, in her motherly desire to help me, I couldn't just hurt her by telling her she was harming me with her teachings. So I endured and detached. From her, from my family, and everything that had the power to hurt me, understanding that if I didn't give the power for the external world to hurt me, only I could bring harm to myself."

"Me detaching from everything gave me access to the world beyond the physical as my vibration and understanding increased. However, this also led to me not feeling what I considered normal to feel when the people I loved left this world on their death bed. When my grandmother passed away, I wanted to cry and mourn her like everyone else, yet I couldn't. Because I treated death as a common and simple choice that helped the soul of a person arrive home."

Azar let out a deep sigh.

"You know?" he asked. "Following that path led me to leave this world after only twenty-one years of life. Because nothing bound me to this world anymore, because I had what I always desired, freedom. And I thought that this world had nothing to teach me anymore."

"Yes, master," Araumir replied. "And your decision led us to explore a variety of worlds and technologies we never thought possible. The journey that we started then led us to the point where your soul can create its own realm and I can travel with you freely. I find nothing wrong with the decision you took back then."

"Then why, Araumir?" Azar asked. "If I have learned and mastered everything this world had to offer, why am I feeling this emotional chaos in my chest? Why can't I now detach from the things and people from my past? Why am I troubled by the destruction of the things that I created?"

"I am not sure, as my experience with emotions is still too shallow to understand what you feel," Araumir said. "But as we have evolved, I believe that this world evolved too. So, perhaps, we can explore and learn things we couldn't before. Or maybe, your understanding of relationships reached a new height and you value them more after spending so much time alone. Maybe you're more aware of the beautiful things that you had and didn't treasure enough."

"Maybe," Azar repeated, a tear dropping down his cheek.

"Whether you decide to remain or leave after finishing the quest, I will follow you. But we only have two more days to bring the matter with the Calabi tribe to an end. So, I have to ask. What is your plan?" Araumir questioned.

"I'm not in the condition to spill blood, so I'm thinking of using the Soul Enslavement Ritual on the chief and elders of the Calabi tribe to forbid them from acting against the Mirha even after i am gone," Azar replied.

"That should do, but what about the ones who paid them? From what Hamsha said, the Calabi are just the borrowed knife, not the mastermind wishing to end the Mirha," Araumir said.

"Getting to the bottom of things will require time that I don't possess. Besides, the mission I've accepted is only related to the Calabi. I have decided to not remain here, so other things do not concern me," Azar explained.

"As you wish. Is your current soul power enough to enslave the Calabi tribe chief?"

"That I don't know, but in case I'm unable to, you'll just have to kill him," Azar said.

"There is no problem with that," Araumir assured.

As the people of the Mirha tribe started to come out of their homes and tend to their work and morning training, Azar and Araumir found themselves needing to enter the tent because of the bustling, noisy atmosphere on the streets. Inside the tent, Hamsha was still asleep, snoring so profoundly that one might confuse him with a dangerous monster.

"Wake him up," Azar said, annoyed.

Araumir grabbed the sleeping man by the clothes and lifted him in the air like a weightless feather.

"Good morning, princess," Azar mocked when Hamsha opened his eyes, awakened by the sudden motion.

"A-Azar Syed, what do you want from me?" Hamsha asked, afraid that he might be killed.

"Peace and quiet," Azar replied. "You snore like a bear."

"A what?" Hamsha asked when his feet touched the ground.

"Never mind." Azar waved his hand for the man to not bother.

"Azar Syed, I heard you're awake. Can I have a few minutes of your time?" Kaira's voice sounded outside the tent.