37 Arash - Beacon of Hope

Fierce winds howled around him. He felt the coldness bit into his skin, felt it steal his heat. 'Three years!' But it felt like an eternity to him. He shifted Adam on his back and pulled a soft leather mask over his face.

"Make sure we don't touch any skin. Fall down if you must, but don't let our skin's touch!" Arash warned as he studied the sapphire giant in the distant. It all

felt like it had all happened yesterday.

"What will happen if our skin's touch?" Adam already had his doubt.

"You will most probably die," Arash replied. "Where does that Majid live anyway?"

"Die!" Adam swallowed hard as everything after that turned into an indistinct blur. "Why don't we take Tamresh with us. He is big and strong and doesn't particularly kill people by touching them."

"He won't but you will... Where does that damned Majid live?" Arash asked for the umpteenth time.

"I can kill people by touching them?" Adam's jaw dropped as he studied his right arm.

Arash groaned in frustration; instead of asking him again, he peered into Adam's memories. He filtered out the inner voice of his uncle, dove deeper into his sea of memories and finally, he found a man. Majid pale, sickly man. Old age had carved countless deep grooves on his pock-marked face and he slouched in such a way that his left shoulder was always raised slightly higher than the right one. All in all, Majid was as dangerous as a 5-year-old child. 'Why is he afraid of him?' Arash frowned at Adam's deep hate for this old man.

Diving deeper into his uncle's sea of memories he found his answer. Majid was all that his uncle hated. A man who rejected Blessed as gods and was a priest in the house of BadBakht, the god of the wretched.

Living in the outskirts of the town, Arash never came in contact with religion or any such things. 'I guess even the gods can't save the outters' Arash grinned darkly as he dug further for information for this so-called priest. The more Arash found about the old man, the more of a mystery he became.

No man of his age was able to live in the harsh town of Harra. Those who couldn't work were considered dead weight. But that rule didn't apply to Majid, he enjoyed deep respect from the masses and would receive abundant offerings from his followers.

Arash turned back to his uncle and found him still staring at his right hand in great horror. 'You don't exactly kill, you steal their strength.' Arash finally

said.

"Steal?" Adam immediately jolted back to reality as he turned towards Arash. "How in the Blessed Name do I do that?"

"Huh! Runes" Arash said as he started towards the temple of the BadBakht. Adam was relentless in his questioning, while Arash was in no mood to answer. 'Take care of this.' Arash turned to the little snake.

'What do you want me to do?' Najwah said.

'Just keep him occupied' Arash said offhandedly

Najwah nodded as he weaved a new reality for Adam where all his questions were answered.

Arash pushed through the beatings of the cold winds, his hair whipping wildly against his face. He found his way through the narrow alleys between the closely packed houses; relieved to find familiarity in the dark corners and the deafening sounds of the howling winds. As he moved closer and closer to the center of the city, the alleys became narrower and narrower until he was forced out on the cobbled streets.

Unlike the outskirts of Harra, men could be seen walking on the streets. Giant bulging masses walking proudly against the harsh winds. They wore thin leather tunics that barely covered their broad chests, while they didn't wear any masks against the wind and dust. Arash could feel the contempt in their gazes and hear ridicule in their comments as he walked past.

Feeling the mood of his master, Najwah made short work of the bulging masses around him. The little snake left them drooling, staring blankly at nothing. Arash felt a strong rush as he saw the men around him turned to dumb mutes. He recounted they would never be able to string together a single sentence, would stand here till death if left undisturbed. Amidst his moment of glory, he couldn't help but wonder what would have happened to him if he didn't have runes of willpower that were a natural enemy to the little black snake.

"Never, do that again!" Arash said darkly to the little snake, who frowned at first but peeking in the heart of his master, he couldn't help but smile.

"You are afraid of me?"

"Return what you have taken." Arash enclosed Najwah with silver wisps of will.

Najwah gritted his teeth and mumbled some words. He reluctantly vomited out the stolen memories which sped towards their respective owners. Soon the silence around them was broken by the shocked men. Even though little could be heard under the moaning of the wind. Arash knew what they were thinking as he had gone through what they had just experienced.

"What's the point of being surrounded by such delicious food and not able to eat anything?" Najwah said sullenly.

"We are here!" Arash exclaimed as he stood before a four-story building, Tower of Hope. Instead of calling it a tower, it appeared more like a giant brick shooting into the sky. Most buildings around here were almost two-story, nothing came close to its height as it soared proudly towards the sky, standing still against the beatings of the wind, a beacon of hope for all the wretched in the world.