In the Shadow of the Sun

One

       "Every soul will taste death. You will be paid your wages in full on the Day of Judgement. Anyone who is distanced from the Fire and admitted to the Garden, has triumphed. The life of this world is only the enjoyment of delusion." The mufti sang into Faddayah's ears through her white headphones, connected to her phone by a dangling silicone cord. Her phone sat in her lap, creasing the light georgette fabric that her abaya. It was difficult to tune out the deafening rumble of the university Jeep that she and three others drove through the scorching desert of Iran. Outside the sealed window that she rested her niqab-clad face against, dunes of long forgotten sands blew gentle streaks of white across the landscape. You'd be forgiven if you mistook the landscape for an alien world, it scarcely resembled anything hospitable. Alas, there she was, traversing deeper into the Lut Desert in search of a structure that may or may not exist.
          "...sand dunes have been forming around the walls the satellite captured, it's almost like it's been sinking slowly, but certainly over the past four decades," a grave voice that belonged to her white haired professor trailed, snapping Faddayah out of her deep concentration. The woman's attention was forced from the window towards her instructor, urging her to remove her still blaring earbud from beneath her headscarf. "Faddayah, are you listening?" The snow haired elder snapped, his intense green eyes locking into hers. "Yeah, I am, Dr. Heath," she replied, her distaste for the man who had been leading the dig concealed beneath her motherly tone.          
          "Try to look like it, then. This is important, it's not the ruins your lot are used to." Dr. Heath was never quiet about his malice towards Faddayah, or more accurately, anyone who called themselves Middle Eastern.
Faddayah inhaled, her niqab touching her lips from the change in pressure, but before she could say something she'd regret, a hand touched hers, the hand belonging to her classmate. "Don't let him get to you, what do you expect from a fat British man?" The classmate spoke in their native tongue of Urdu, her tan hand not releasing its grip on Faddayah's,        "He's so fat, he might sink the ruins himself." She let out a loud laugh, throwing her head back, causing her long hair to be thrown over the seat.
       Almost instantly, she felt better, her classmate always had a talent for doing that, "Zoya, that's evil." She cackled back in the same language. From behind the second row of seats, another voice joined in their laughter, "Stop! Stop! You'll make me piss myself!" The voice of a man spoke in, again, their mother tongue.
       "Don't do that, Mujtaba! He might drink it," Zoya kept it going.
       A wave of continued laughing spread across the jeep, even the driver was laughing. This made it worth it, at least in Faddayah's mind. The long hours, the racist professor, and the scorching heat were all worth something with the chance to discover something great alongside her friends within reach.
       "Shut it! The university told you that you can only speak English on digs!" He shouted over them, like a child who was being laughed at on the playground, "Shut your mouths and be quiet until we get there, you d-" with no warning, the car lurched to a stop, throwing Dr. Heath's large frame against the dashboard of the vehicle.
       "We've arrived," the driver announced, putting the vehicle in park, "Radio me when you're ready to leave, Dr." Pushing himself up, he shook himself off, adjusting his wide brim readers, "Thank you," Even if his tone was calm, he was leering at Zoya with a look that says more than his words can, "Mujtaba, unload the back." He ordered, covering his head and face with a keffiyeh, ensuring none of the sunlight would touch him, he didn't want to get burned.
       "He looks like your uncle Hamzah." He poked Zoya's shoulder, a final bout of laughter created by the three's Urdu joke. Alas, Mujtaba obliged, jumping from the car onto the hot sand, his thobe covered in sand from the trip.
       Zoya was the next to speak, "How much has been dug out this far, professor?" She questioned, fishing her bag from the foot space below her chair.
       He was drawing an umbrella before he stepped out to shield his eyes from the sun, "So far, the entrance and courtyard has been dug. The university doesn't wish to go any further until we can catalog the idols we find, they have yet to be identified." With all of his UV protections, the professor stepped out from the Jeep, joined by his students. Mujtaba held the large pack of gear on his back, squinting to avoid the grains of sand from assaulting his eyes.
       "Let's go, we have to be out of here before sunrise." Dr. Heath oke led the way, a stone pathway leading the way into a small, wooden hut placed there by the first dig team. Behind them, Faddayah and Zoya walked beside one another, "This is your first dig, are you nervous?" Zoya asked Faddayah, noticing the not so subtle anxiety she was excuding. "I wouldnt say nervous. Anxious is more accurate, it seems like we might be digging too far somewhere we couldn't." She admitted, her eyes looking around the area. In all but one direction, there was nothing but sand. A vast ocean of rock and silica powder spread out across the horizon, disappearing as the heat waves rose from the ground, distorting the light that passed through them. Due East, the wooden shack was in the center of four large structures. However, they were covered by blue tarps that didn't move when the wind blew, obscuring what images or functions they may serve. Faddayah couldn't stop herself from imaging what secrets may be held in this space, how many people may have gone through these lands, how many stories the sandstone could tel, if it was able
"I heard from a friend that it's a burial site, but the bones have already been sent off to the university." Mujtaba appeared from beind them, hauling the supplies like a mule.
"Cut the chit-chat and hurry up, don't forget, we're on an academic sabbatical." The professor hollered, opening the door to the shack with a keypad.
"Alright, Mr.Piss-Drinker," Zoya muttered, pulling ahead of the rest of them. Out of the three, she seemed to be the most excited to begin their research. All of them had earned a scholarship on the grounds of an anthropology-centered education, but she was the only one with plans to pursue a career in the field.
"She's having a great time, I can't imagine how." Mujtaba spoke once more, assuming Zoya's spot beside Faddayah. "This is what she's always wanted to do Twenty-six years and she hasn't let up one bit." She trailed off. Her determination to her craft was something she admired about her. She woke up every morning and, not even for a second, let her will to achieve her dreams falter, only Allah himself would be able to slow her down. Her eyes never left Zoya's back, looking to her friend for a sense of comfort in a time where she would otherwise feel nervous. This wouldn't be a long expedition.
"Hurry in, a dust devil is coming." Dr. Heath shouted, all but pushing Mujtaba and Faddayah into the tunnel just beyond the reed door, slamming it shut behind them with a thud. The difference in heat was immense, a comfortable wave of cool air rushing from the stone staircase. It went down, seemingly, farther than you could see, but a press of a large button at the hands of Dr. Heath lit up the passage, which seemed more manageable with the light piercing the thick darkness of the underground.   "Finally." Mujtaba took off his shemagh, his curly black hair falling to the sides of his head, "How far down is the site, Dr?" He asked their professor. "Just down these stairs, this area was excavated twelve hours ago, none of it has been seen yet. The briefing I received told me that there was a large boulder in the way of this tunnel, which is why we didn't see it until now, only the idols outside." The large-set man responded, pushing past Zoya to descend the stone-clad staircase, "Before we begin marking, do not touch anything that I haven't first looked at it. This site is my discovery, it's important I'm the first to see what is here." He sounded proud of his "discovery" and it was apparent in the way he defended everything inside like a child does her toys on the playground. "Get to it, the driver will be back in the morning." He commanded, waddling to the small office setup deeper into the chamber. Faddayah blinked, unsure if she was actually hearing what he said, his audacity is unparalleled.
       "Come on, let's get started," Zoya took Faddayah by the hand, dashing down the stairs with an ear to ear grin on her face. "I still have a hard time believing he's trusting a bunch of grad students with something this important," She commented on the absurdity of the entire situation. "Actually, considering I've never actually seen him working, it's not a shock he'd make us do this." She only stopped speaking when they reached the bottom of the stairs, eyes growing wide as coins when she saw the primary chamber, jaw dropping to the floor.
       All around the three students, walls of sandstone dropped down farther than light would pierce, a monstrous spiral staircase leading down towards the darkness, not unlike a tower that was lost beneath the waves of sand. Nothing was out of place, the structure's walls were plastered in a sea of mosaics fashioned from colored bits of stone and script from a language that made no sense to the modern human mind. The quiet splattering of dripping water from beneath the umbra of the stairs echoed up from beyond the rail that lined every inch of the walkway. Wall sconces marked every 30 feet, but they were devoid of their torches, perhaps raided.
       "Subhan'allah..." The words left Faddayah's mouth, her voice dancing down the stairs and into the dark, almost taking a physical form, "How long has this been here?!" She spoke, addressing no one specific, but rather the air itself.
         "If the Brit is being honest, upwards of 4,000 years, dating back to pre-Babylonian Iran." Mujtaba answered, his eyes darting all around the chamber, falling on the drop down, "There isn't a single light, but of scaffolding, or even a bit of sand in here, I don't believe it was just excavated." His concerns fell before they met Zoya's ears, brushing them off as a simple mistake, "Even if he's a liar, we still have the chance of a life time here, a chance to be the first to uncover something new to Iranian history," She spoke with a level of intelligence and passion for her work that made Faddayah's heart flutter as butterflies do before a breeze takes them away, down wind to their new tree to congregate on.
For as long as she could recall, Faddayah's feelings for Zoya grew, evolving from those of kinship and camaraderie, to that of adoration and respect before finally resting upon infatuation, where it lie now. Even now. As her eyes fell upon Zoya's long, glossy black hair, she couldn't hide her smile if not for the cloth covering her cheeks. All the money in the world wasn't worth what Zoya was to her. All she wanted was her, to run her hands through her hair, to slow dance in the pale moonlight with her, to cradle her in her arms and kiss her lips as she's always longed to do.
"Fada, are you listening to me?" Mujtaba snapped his finger at her, quizzical smile on his face, "Ahsan texted me, he's asking you to pick up your phone."
But as much as she longed for Zoya, Ahsan was who she was cursed to spend her youth with. As far as Faddayah's parents were concerned, she needed a husband to provide her a comfortable and stable life, and to give them the grandchildren they felt they deserved. He was, by no definition, a bad man, rather, quite the opposite. He worked as a teacher in Dubai, he made a wealth of money through stock trading and investing. His parents were longtime parents of hers, so it seemed obvious they should wed. From the days of infancy, she and Ahsan were thought of as a couple already, and her mother would talk about the day they would have children starting from the day Faddayah could speak. It goes without any contest that this isn't what she wanted, Faddayah wanted no part of Ahsan, although neither her choice nor consent were considered or required in the engagement.
"I'll text him when I get better service." She replied, "Can't you marry him, Muj? I don't want him." She teased, brushing her hand over one of the mosaics, feeling the cold stone against her hand, a stark contrast from the scorching heat of the Lut Desert.
"You know I absolutely would if he, you know, thought of me as a human." He retorted, a sense of sorrow laced into the hearty laugh that he often used to hide how he felt. It was convincing, but not when you knew him as long as Faddayah did. As far as strength went, Mujtaba was the strongest, not only physically, but mentally and spiritually. For he was a gay man, and an openly gay man. It was difficult for him, police often stopped him under suspect of homosexual acts, and he was shunned from every masjid in the entirety of their town. If not for his parents tolerance over his supposed "sinful lifestyle", he'd be on his own, but somehow, he stays strong through the persecution.
"Come on, we have to get started," Zoya grabbed them by the arms, a habit she developed from grade school, and pulled them down the stairs. They all turned on their flashlights, illuminating the darkness below. Mujtaba was the first to take note of the the odd lettering along the descent of the stairs, "That's odd, I can't tell what it says, but Im almost certain this is Akkadian." He pointed out.
"Why is that odd?" Faddayah questioned.
"The Akkadian Empire isn't previously documented to be this far north, this might change our understanding of their territory." He answered.
"It might not be Akkadian. Didn't several groups speak the language, it might be an undocumented tribe that spoke it." Zoya chimed in, using a specialized camera to take pictures of the lettering, using a university tablet to transcribe them, "Hm, it says "Await the...". Let's keeping moving, I have a feeling the staircase will finish it."
So, that's exactly what they did. With each new set of stairs, a new set of text was revealed. Faddayah and Zoya worked to decipher the text while Mujtaba photographed the mosaics with the camera he brought. They themselves told a story, depicting what seemed to be motifs of humanoid figures battling another figure with gray flesh and sharp teeth. Towards the bottom, both the mosaics were broken and water stained, as were the texts.
Standing at the bottom of the tower, on a platform just above a pool of murky grey water, they sat around Zoya's laptop, waiting for the software to translate the text they collected. The pool of water wasn't that deep, perhaps 3 meters at its deepest. However, there was another passage at the bottom, but a submersible would be required to traverse further. 6 idols sat at the bottom around the circumference of the spire, depicting the same grey skinned figures in the earlier mosaics. They were tall, with thin limbs and gaunt faces, further research would be required to figure out if they were found anywhere else.
A loud chime from Zoya's computer alerted the completion of the translation. "Let's see what this says," Zoya whispered in anticipation, clearing her throat, "It says, "Await the return of the day walkers. They hold the key to your salvation from the umbra of the..." it stops there, there isn't anymore text to translate." Everyone remained silent for a moment, letting the words linger. "We have to tell Dr. Heath." Zoya stood, preparing to ascend the stairs.
"Wait, Zozo." Faddayah said, "There's a pocket of air along the tunnel, I can swim through it, we can't risk missing something important." She leaned down and swished her hand in the water, it was cold, but akin to tap water, it wasn't freezing, "Can you keep a watch?" She took off her niqab and abaya, leaving her with her shorts and tank top. "Hand me that rope," she told Mujtaba, tying one end to her leg when she did, "If you feel the line go slack, pull me back." She told them, handing them the rope.
"Please, be careful, you don't know what's down there." Zoya spoke up, pushing her apprehensions aside at the prospect of discovery, "You're worth more than any dig site." Zoya put her hand on Faddayah's soft shoulder, causing her heart to skip. Faddayah placed her own hand on Zoya's arm, "I will, let's do this before the fat man sees me." She pulled away, even if she didn't want to, fixing her gaze onto the water below. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the cold air of the crypt, and then dove into the water, stretching her legs to avoid hitting the bottom. The water rushed around her, the coolness sending a sudden jolt through her body, like a shock from a poorly wired outlet. It took her eyes a few moments to adjust to the sudden change in moisture. Although her vision remained blurry, she could make out the path she was to take.
       Faddayah pushed off the sandstone wall, front stroking through into the water logged passage. The water was clear just beyond the cobblestone arch, the sediment and sand having settled along the bottom, she could see so long as she did not kick it back up. As she swam, she past the remainder of the mural, depicting a struggle between the grey skinned   creatures and the humanoids, with the humanoids being forced into a shape that resembled the spire they were currently on, as well as eight others. Dead ahead, she spotted a shimmer of yellow light, signaling what she thought was sunlight. Perhaps this connected to a lake, but there was not one for miles around. Her lungs began to burn, urging her to break the surface, her wet hair stuck to the back of her head through her bun. Faddayah took several deep breathes before diving back down, pushing herself further, but oddly enough, her efforts brought her to another, even larger chamber.
       The atrium was vast, the source of the light appearing from a sky of starlike stones that burned with life juxtaposed to a dark blue background. The stones formed countless constellations, an almost perfect recreation of the night sky where the spire resided. However, the most interesting piece of the room sat in the center, upon a sediment dove fed pedestal. Atop the stone structure sat a brilliant prismatic object, a myriad of colors kaleidoscoping across within the glass-like exterior. Yet, something else stuck out to her, different from everything else.
      There was singing.
       Someone, or rather, something, was singing in the most beautiful voice she has ever heard. Faddayah's eyes scanned around the water, eventually landing upon the artifact in the center. Something was singing from inside the glass. Despite everything telling her to stop, she swam towards it. The singing grew louder as she approached, forming a song unlike anything she's ever heard, a symphony of voices mixing into one being, all within the confines of the icosahedron that sat upon the pedestal. Her legs and arms stopped listening, she kept moving closer to the object. She couldn't stop, she didn't want to stop. They were calling her name, and as she neared the center, they grew louder and stronger. She knew this was what she had to do. With one final push, she grabbed it.
       The moment her fingers touched the orb, it burst. It exploded into a cloud of color, balls of light, of yellows, red, blues, and every color in between swirled out from the now absent object, rising to the roof with incredible speed. All at once, the singing separated and the balls of light took a voice, numbering nine in total. Faddayah couldn't believe what she was seeing, and she was transfixed by it. They circled around the ceiling before they stopped and slammed back together in the center, forming beacon of gold and rainbow light. Before she could go any further, the light shot down at her, slamming into her with the force of a canon ball, and she blacked out.
      Her eyes never seemed to close, and in her state between this world and the next, she finally understood everything. Before her, she watched decades of history play out. She watched the Day-Walkers fighting back against God's hated creation, the Nightfolk, vampires who stole the life of humans to fuel their eternal life and evil magic. She watched the Day-Breaker's using the gift of heliomancy God gave them to slay the Nightfolk. She watched them be pushed back into the deserts as the Nightfolk grew too strong, constructing the nine spires to seal their magic for a different time and a different age. She saw the world experience centuries of history and finally, she saw Dr. Heath, his fangs bares as he shook hands with one of the creatures from the idols, then it went black.
      "Fada....Fada....FADA!" Zoya shouted, waking her from the slumber she was forced in. Her eyes snapped open, sitting up before coughing up water, the world spinning and her head pounding. "What happened, you stopped moving!" She shouted, giving her the towel she had to dry off.
      Faddayah looked around, the vision of Dr. Heath front and center in her hazy mine. "Wait..." she choked, "Where's Mujtaba?" She shot up, nearly falling backwards as she lost balance. Zoya caught her, "He went to go get Dr. Heath after you didn't wake up." She explained, worry not leaving her face.
      Her heart dropped in her soaked chest, eyes going up to the entrance of the spire, and then to Zoya, locking with hers, "We have to go, Mujtaba is in trouble." She declared. Zoya had an odd look on her face, "Fada...your eyes, why are they yellow? What was in that water?"
     "There's no time!" Faddayah shouted, "We have to get Muj!"
       "There's no need." A familiarly cold voice spoke, the visage of Dr. Heath stepping from the arch leading out of the spire, wiping an uncomfortable amount of crimson from his mouth, two sharp teeth jutting from his top jaw, "So you found it?" He spoke, his red eyes piercing at Faddayah, "You were supposed to tell me when you did, but of course, you can't trust terrorists like you." He began descending the stairs, each step meant to scare them. "No matter, I'll just kill you and take it, you don't deserve the Daybreak, it belongs to us."
      "Faddayah, what is he talking about? Where's Muj?" Fear weaved its way into her voice, Zoya's knees trembling at the sight of the blood.
      "Get behind me," Faddayah stepped in front of Zoya, shielding her from whatever Dr. Heath was going to do.
      Dr. Heath looked at her, a laugh of pure amusement leaving his chest, "Do you honestly think you, a brand new Day-Walker, can fight me? Don't flatter yourself, Ms. Hidayyah." He kept moving forward in their direction, crouching down, "You'll die like the boy." He hissed and then leapt towards them, his teeth aimes for Faddayah.
      Time seemed to slow around her, a burning sensation bursting from her gut, feeling like the hottest fire in the solar system, like the sun itself. "Come on, come on Faddayah, do something, you can't let him have her," She thought, focusing on the fire in her gut, willing it to move up from her gut and into her chest, then to her shoulder, and into her fist, a bright white fire taking hold of her flesh. This was her shot, her only chance to save them, but more importantly, to save Zoya. In an of defense, she reeled her fist back, and with everything she had left, threw a punch at Dr. Heath's flying body, her fist connecting with the side of his head, the fire moving from her hand to his head. She heard him scream, and felt cold ash hit her before she blacked out.