Gazing at the afternoon sun, Dhi’b al-Sahra shifted his gaze northward. With longing in his eyes and an ache gnawing at his heart, he sighed—regret was such a cruel thing. Despite knowing that time wouldn’t heal his wounds, he continued to cling to the hope that the years would somehow dull the pain—it hadn’t. It remained as raw as ever, as fresh as the recently plucked fruits in front of him.

Lost in the memories of the past, he reflected on the time when he lost everything—becoming a slave, alone in a foreign land. Even if he could go back home now, he saw no purpose in it. Everything that connected him to his past was long gone. Even his desire for vengeance had vanished. How could it not, when the person he hated the most lay dead? Life, he realized bitterly, was cruel; even his revenge was taken away from him. Now, he possessed everything and yet nothing. At times, he found himself questioning why he continued to exist, and for what purpose, if any, his life served.

“Master,” Nasir said with the utmost respect, his voice carrying a hint of concern. “Tariq is late. He should have been here three days ago. He’d never broken a promise before. Even for him, this delay is highly unusual.”

‘He’s alive. I can still feel our connection.’

“Don’t worry, he’s alive,” he assured Nasir, his voice carrying a comforting tone. “Trust me, I should know.”

“Yes, master,” the attendant responded, bowing respectfully.

“Also, this development comes as no great surprise,” Dhi’b remarked, pausing to take a sip from his coffee. “Considering the danger of this mission, I’m already satisfied that he is alive. While the artifact holds priceless value, its acquisition is merely a bonus.”

“With the artifact found, you shall at last be able to settle your debt, master,” Nasir stated, a warm smile spreading across his face.

‘Yes, the debt will indeed be settled. A debt of life and blood can only be paid by life and blood…And, of course, by a legendary artifact. However, one cannot ignore the countless lives lost and the river of blood spilled in its pursuit. The principle of equivalent exchange—a balance—shall at last be restored.

Yet, one must wonder: is my life truly worth the toll exacted by so many others?’

Dhi’b let out a heavy sigh, his breath laden with the weight of his burdens.

“Master, forgive me. May I ask if you’re alright?” the attendant inquired, a tone of genuine concern filled his voice.

“I’m fine,“ he responded with a nod and a gentle smile.

‘If the legends hold even a grain of truth, though they seldom do, if they indeed are true, the cost of those lives might pale in comparison to the artifact’s true value. And therein lies the problem. A relic of such power is bound to wield considerable influence over fate. I fear the price I must pay to restore equilibrium.’

Lost in the labyrinth of his own thoughts, he was abruptly jolted back to reality by the sound of his attendant’s voice.

“Master? Master,” Nasir uttered softly, trying to get his attention. “The Satrap’s...”

“Yes, you’re right,” Dhi’b responded, slowly rising to his feet. “Despite this being a secluded oasis, it’s important that we show our host the appropriate respect.”

After donning an attire befitting the occasion, they made their way to the palace of the Satrap.

----------------------------------------

“You filthy hag!” Rustam bellowed, shoving the old woman with contempt. “I warned scum like you ain’t wanted around here!”

Rustam, the leader of the local gang, was a formidable figure who ruled this portion of the oasis with an iron fist. His history was shrouded in mystery, but his brutality was infamous. Rising to power through sheer intimidation and cunning, he instilled fear in the hearts of his men and the people living in his territory. Under his ruthless reign, people lived in constant fear.

As Rustam hurled insults at the poor woman, his followers closed in around her, their laughter echoing in the air. Some eagerly joined in the jeering, their raucous voices adding to the already chaotic scene.

Most of them appeared to be in their late teens, wearing tattered rags that seemed not to have been washed for ages. The oldest among them was their leader, Rustam, who was directly assaulting the old woman. Dressed in a simple tunic, Rustram stood at an average height with a stocky build and a bulging stomach. His balding head and unremarkable face, adorned with a mustache, bore a resemblance to a provoked bear emerging from hibernation—a sight both intimidating and menacing.

Meanwhile, onlookers cautiously observed the unfolding scene, recognizing the troublemakers for who they were and wisely choosing not to intervene. These thugs had long claimed this area as their territory, exploiting poor street vendors by demanding protection money.

As the crowd scattered, the old woman’s voice quivered with despair, her cry echoing down the street. “Ain’t there no justice left in this city?!” she wailed, her plea falling on indifferent ears. Undeterred by her frailty, she turned her anger toward her attacker. “You heartless thief! You worthless scum!” she accused, her voice trembling with rage. “Do folks ‘round here got no decency? To sink so low as to rob a poor, helpless old woman! You’re just downright shameless!” Her fury burned as she demanded, “Give me back my money!”

As the old woman edged closer, the thug’s face twisted with contempt. Without hesitation, he backhanded her, the force of the blow rippling through the air. A grasp escaped her lips before he callously shoved her to the ground. Stumbling, she collapsed with a resounding thud, akin to a discarded sack of potatoes. Frozen in shock, she just stared into the air, unable to say anything.

“You crazy witch! What the hell did you just say?! Shameless? I’ll show you what real shamelessness looks like,” Rustam roared. Consumed by rage, he lost his grip on his sanity with each kick aimed at the old lady. Profanities spewed from his mouth like venom as he mercilessly assaulted her. Even those who minded their own business couldn’t help but glance their way, concern on their faces as they feared for the old woman’s life. “Should’ve kept your trap shut and handed over your damn money, b*tch!”

“Hey!”

“Shut your mouth and stay outta my business! Or else…” Rustam roared with ferocity. Turning around, he froze at the sight of the strangers. Stopping himself from cursing, his words trailed off abruptly as he carefully scrutinized them.

‘Look at those fancy robes they’re struttin’ around in. Hmm… Silk from the East? Must’ve cost ‘em a fortune. Seems these two are filthy rich.

And that fancy karakul they’re wearing. Are they some kinda big shots I don’t know about?

Pfft… Doubt it. Why ain’t they got some people if they’re so important? If they were anybody important, they’d have soldiers with ‘em.

Probably just a couple of rich b*stards tryin’ to show off. Think they can pull one on me, huh? Seen their type before. Flashin’ their wealth like it means a damn thing. I rule these streets, fools!

Hmm… What if they’re really important? Better play it safe. Show ‘em respect, but make it clear who’s in charge. Yes, that’s what I should do.

Gotta keep up appearances. Can’t let ‘em see my weakness, or my men might think I’m soft. And all these eyes watchin’... Can’t give ‘em any ideas.

Why should I be scared, anyway? I know some nobles. Got guards in my pocket. Ain’t no reason to back down from these clowns.’

With that in mind, Rustam puffed his chest in bravado, striding confidently forward as his followers gave way.

“Hey, friend. You better keep your nose outta our business ‘cause we ain’t playin’ around here. Please be on your way,” Rustam grunted, forcing a grin, gesturing to the road. “I reckon you’ve got better things to do than stickin’ your nose where it don’t belong. Take my advice, friend, if you know what’s good for ya.”

Suddenly, amid the tense atmosphere, one of the men in front burst into laughter, his boisterous voice shattering the silence and drawing the attention of everyone.

“Nasir, is that a threat I hear?” Dhi’b asked, his tone tinged with amusement as he turned to his companion.

“It appears so, master,” the attendant responded. A sinister grin formed across his face, while his eyes never left the leader of the thugs. “Indeed, it seems so.”

‘These damn idiots! Wasn’t I clear? I showed ‘em some kindness and gave ‘em a chance to back off without lookin’ like fools. Maybe they’re just a bunch of morons who couldn’t grasp my generosity.’

Struggling to contain his anger, Rustam forced a strained smile onto his lips. “It ain’t no threat, friend,” he muttered, gritting his teeth with a very tense expression. “Just a friendly reminder.”

“A reminder?” Dhi’b chuckled, his voice couldn’t contain the humor in it. “Why do you keep calling me 'friend'?” Before the man could answer, he turned to his attendant and quipped with a playful tone, “Hey Nasir, do I have a friend that’s that ugly?”

Upon hearing the insults, Rustam’s face suddenly contorted into a frown, his veins bulging as he struggled to rein in his simmering rage.

‘B*stard! Look at your own damn face before you start talkin’. It’s nothin’ to brag about.’

“No, master,” the attendant retorted with a smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement at the sight of the enraged thug. “You’ve got taste. Besides, I wouldn’t dare befriend someone who might ruin your day. Just looking at that goddamn face makes me want to offer a feast to the gods in gratitude for blessing me with a face as ordinary as mine.”

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Both, the master and attendant, erupted into laughter, their raucous voices echoing through the silent streets. Everyone stared at them; even the passerby stopped in their tracks, their expression a mixture of shock and disbelief at the audacity of the duo.

On the other hand, Rustam wasn’t too happy with being made fun of; his anger reached a boiling point where he could no longer contain it. Shooting them with his fiery glare, he clenched his fists at his sides. “B*stards! Let’s see who’ll be laughin’ when I’m done with ya!” he shouted, unsheathing the blade at his waist. Instantly, his men braced themselves, readying themselves for battle as their leader prepared to confront these strangers.

“Nasir, it seems the truth cuts deep,” Dhi’b chuckled lightheartedly, his laughter ringing out without a care in the world.

“It sure does,” the attendant replied, mirroring his liege’s nonchalant demeanor despite being outnumbered. “Master, mind if I tell you a joke?”

‘This damn b*stards! I ain’t ever been disrespected like this before in my life. No matter what, they gotta pay with their lives!’

“Kill ‘em!” Rustam roared, consumed by a raging fury as he charged forward, wielding his blade, followed by his ruthless men.

“Is this another one of your lousy jokes?” Dhi’b asked, skepticism in his voice as he raised an eyebrow.

“No, this one’s actually good, I promise,” Nasir responded, grinning mischievously at him.

“Okay,” the merchant sighed.

“Why are ants so arrogant?”

“Uhmm… I don’t know.”

Running towards their enemies, Rustam frowned, his gaze like daggers aimed at the two strangers who were talking and dismissing his presence.

‘This damn bast*sds! Why are they ignoring us? It’s like they ain’t scared of me and my boys.

Hmm… If they ain’t scared, this could only mean…’

Feeling an ominous foreboding, Rustam’s eyes widened, fear clear in his eyes as realization struck him. Instantly, the color drained from his face, leaving it pale and ghostly. As his steps slowed to a crawl, he caught his breath in his throat while his heartbeat pounded in his ears. “Hold on…” he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper, sensing the impending doom.

The attendant suddenly disappeared, appearing in front of Rustam. “Boo!”

While his men stepped back in surprise, Rustram froze, overwhelmed by fear, as if witnessing his own death unfold before his very eyes. He just stood there as the attendant masterfully placed his fingers on his forehead.

“...because they’re ant-intelligent,” the attendant quipped, chuckling at his own joke.

‘Sh*t!’

Nasir flicked Rustam’s forehead, and it suddenly exploded.

----------------------------------------

Suddenly, the entire area descended into silence. Even Rustam’s rowdy men, once boisterous, stood frozen, their faces a mix of fear and disbelief. They couldn't move or speak, too shocked to even consider running. Even the onlookers stood motionless, their mouths hanging open in shock. They couldn’t believe that the notorious thug had finally met his end, despite witnessing it with their own eyes.

On the other hand, Nasir stayed indifferent, unfazed by the horrified stares aimed at him. He calmly stood straight and composed, casually dusting off his clothes, ensuring not a speck of blood or gore was on them.

“You’re really bad at jokes,” Dhi’b remarked, sighing as he shook his head. “You lack any talent for it.”

Nasir glanced at his master and chuckled. “I really thought that this was a good one.”

“No, it’s bad!” Dhi’b exclaimed playfully, grunting in response to his servant's words. “It’s even worse than last time.”

As the banter between the master and the attendant continued, the eyes of people around them shifted back and forth between the two men, surprised at their nonchalant and laid-back demeanor. It seemed as if, at that moment, they were the only ones who existed in the world.

“What’s happening here?!” the head guard bellowed as he passed through a throng of people, his men trailing closely behind. His eyes quickly glanced at the headless man on the ground. Recognizing some familiar faces, the leader of the guard wasted no time in assessing the gruesome scene before him. Since these were the bastards that controlled this area, he deduced that the headless corpse was likely their leader, and the one who killed him was one of those two men.

The head guard turned his attention to the two strangers, quickly noting their stature and clothing. With a sigh, he realized that they were likely important and powerful individuals. Despite his desire to vent his frustration at being dragged into this mess, he knew he had to maintain his composure.

‘Really? Now they come? No matter where I go, the guards are always so late.

Useless!’

“Who are you?” the head guard asked cautiously.

Dhi’b just sighed and didn’t respond, his frustration clear in his face, opting to show a golden insignia instead.

The leader of the guard immediately paled upon seeing the insignia. He hastily bowed in apology, followed by his men. “Forgive us for the disrespect, honorable one!”

‘I really hate using this. It’s as if I’m some arrogant prick who enjoys power-tripping. But they just irritate me so much. Some of these fools, or maybe all of them, are likely under the pocket of these thugs.

Damn these corrupt idiots. It’s their fault that not even a poor old woman can walk safely in the day. What has this world come to?’

“Hmm…Nasir, this is my first time witnessing an old woman being assaulted in broad daylight. Is this normal?” Dhi’b asked, snickering as his eyes never ventured away from the guards. “The world is truly becoming more dangerous.”

“You’re right, master. Even I’m afraid to go out these days, never knowing when I’ll get attacked,” the attendant responded shamelessly as he walked back to his horse. “However, I’ve never seen an old lady get attacked inside an oasis before. This is truly troubling.”

The guards were sweating profusely as the words continued to poke at them in mockery. With nowhere to hide, they remained bowing their heads, their shame for all to see.

“Yes, this is indeed quite troubling,” Dhi’b replied, nodding his head in agreement. “What has the world become? Perhaps later, Nasir, I’ll seek the Satrap’s opinion on how the world is rapidly changing. Even his majestic oasis now seems to be embracing such trends.”

“Yes, master…”

Before the attendant could finish his words, the head guard hastily kneeled and interjected, ”Sorry you had to witness something so abhorrent, honored one. Don’t worry, I’ll ensure to carry out the punishment severely so that they’ll know the Satrap won’t tolerate such misconduct. I promise that something like this won’t happen again.” Rising to his feet, he issued the command, “Take them!”

The guards swiftly arrested all those involved before hurriedly retreating. The head guard respectfully bowed his head to Dhi’b before following his men. Meanwhile, the onlookers quickly resumed their activities or feigned disinterest, unwilling to become further entangled in this mess.

‘Shameless!’

Dhi’b couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head at the guards’ comical retreat. However, when he glanced at the old woman on the ground, his old, weathered brow furrowed; he felt pity for her.

‘What has the world really become?’

“Help her,” Dhi’b said, signaling his attendant to aid the poor woman. After his attendant nodded in acknowledgment, he dismounted from his horse and headed in the opposite direction, towards several stalls selling various foods. Without knowing where to go, he simply chose the nearest one.

As soon as he approached the stall, the people nearby froze, fear evident in their eyes. He couldn’t really blame them; after the recent incident, if he were in their shoes, he would also react the same way. Though he understood, it didn’t mean he had to like it. Feeling powerless, he could only sigh.

‘I really hate this. People often dream of being admired or feared by others. They don’t realize that in time, it gets old… awkward and annoying.’

As the silent stares grew awkward, the owner of the stall stepped forward. “Peace be upon you, honorable one,” he greeted, bowing low as a sign of respect before looking back at him with a big smile. “Farid’s Kebab. The freshest and best kebab in the entire oasis.”

This instantly eased the tension around them. After observing him for a moment, Dhi’b returned the smile.

‘A true merchant. I like this fellow already.

Seems he’s a much better merchant than me. Sometimes I wonder why I stick with this profession. I’m really bad at dealing with people, especially, those I don’t like.’

“Best in the oasis?” Dhi’b asked, raising his brow playfully.

“Indeed,” he responded, nodding his head enthusiastically. “That I guarantee.”

“Then lead the way, good man,” Dhib replied, chuckling as he gestured towards the vendor’s stall. “Let me taste that kebab of yours.”

As the vendor led Dhi’b into his stall, the people quickly gave them some space. This was the cue for his wife, who quickly handed him a kebab. “One bite that you’ll never forget,” he declared, his smile not wavering.

Smiling back, Dhi’b happily accepted the offered kebab. As he observed the couple and the atmosphere around him, memories of his past as an ordinary merchant struggling to survive flooded back. Though those times were tough, they held a special place in his heart, as those experiences had shaped the person he had become today. He was still a merchant, but of a different kind—one who lives in palaces.

“You claim it’s the freshest and best kebab?” Dhi’b asked playfully, taking a bite.

‘Indeed, it was fresh and delicious. However, compared to the ones I’m eating now, it’s rather ordinary. Still, it’s good.

If I had eaten this in the past, I would’ve cried from joy because this was a luxury I seldom could afford.’

Reminiscing about his past brought a smile to his face. However, he hid this as he slowly looked at the couple with a frown, causing their smile to falter upon seeing his expression. When he noticed their downcast faces, a smile quickly spread across his lips as he declared, “The best and freshest kebab in the oasis, indeed!”

When they heard Dhi’b comment on their food, the couple’s faces immediately lit up. Their laughter rang out, followed by their applause. “Thank you, honorable one, for your kind words,” the vendor said, bowing at him once more.

“Can I have ten of these delicious kebabs and seven of that naan?” he asked, pointing to the food he was buying.

With the positive response he received, the vendor wasted no time packing the ordered food and handing it over to Dhi’b. “Honorable one, I’ve added some extra in there for you to enjoy.”

Smiling at the kind gesture, he nodded in appreciation. However, as he was getting his money, the man quickly interjected, “No, honorable one! This is a gift. You don’t need to pay. Your kind words are already enough.”

“Nonsense!” Dhi’b replied with a big smile on his face. The merchant’s gesture was common in the desert as a sign of respect; however, knowing the struggles of a small merchant, he couldn’t accept such generosity. At this point in his life, where money wasn't an issue, he couldn’t accept such generosity when the amount was nothing to him but everything to the other person. “You already gave me respect and honor for making such delicious food. How can you prevent me from showing some generosity for the privilege of tasting this wonderful food?” He questioned, staring at the man playfully, revealing a gold coin in his palm.

The vendor’s eyes widened. He wanted to refuse, but the sight of the gold coin was too tempting to resist. Glancing at his wife, whose eyes were staring at the money, he gave in to greed and swiftly took the coin from Dhi’b’s hand. Bowing deeply, followed by his wife, he said, “Thank you, honored one, for such generosity to a lowly man such as myself. May the goddess bring prosperity and protect you always.”

‘That’s more like it. Be a merchant!’

Dhi’b chuckled at the vendor’s action as he accepted the food from his wife. “May the goddess protect you and your family, and may she continue to bless your hands, bringing even more joy to the sons and daughters of the oasis through your food.”

As he left the stall, Dhi’b noticed the people around him bowed their heads. The fear in their eyes was long gone, now replaced by deep respect and appreciation for what he had done for them. He smiled at them, bowing in return.

As he searched for his attendant, Dhi’b found him seated beside the old woman, who was wincing, trying to touch her injured abdomen.

“I told you, stop touching it,” Nasir remarked, gritting his teeth as he struggled to control his emotions. Despite his protest, the old woman wouldn’t listen, persistently prodding her injury. “You’ll only make it worse. Just wait for my master, okay?”

“Stop yer yappin’, boy! Youngsters these days got no respect for us old folks. You’re just like that rotten man, takin’ advantage of poor old me,” the old woman snapped at Nasir before nonchalantly getting back to what she was doing—more wincing and prodding.

Dhi’b could only smile while watching them. They seemed more like a mother and son. He had never known his mother or felt the love of one; she had died giving birth to him. That was why he enjoyed watching them. However, as he continued to observe them, he suddenly froze, and his smile slowly faded, replaced by a frown.

‘Hmm… There’s something odd about that old woman.’