𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐐𝐚𝐬𝐫 𝐀𝐥-𝐒𝐚𝐡𝐫𝐚

Chapter 8: The Journey to Siwa

The morning sun peeked through the thin curtains of Zahara's hotel room, casting a golden hue across the floor. Today was the day. Her dreams had been more vivid than ever last night-a clear vision of Qasr Al Sahra, the intricate stonework, the vast hallways, and always, the shadow of that man watching her, waiting for her to step into his world.

The weight of the map in her bag felt heavy, but it was nothing compared to the tension that had coiled in her chest since her meeting with the Keeper. His warning still echoed in her mind: Once you enter Qasr Al Sahra, there is no turning back.

But Zahara was beyond doubt. Her entire being was drawn toward the palace, toward the unknown.

She moved with purpose as she packed her bag. Her paranormal investigation gadgets, a combination of modern tech and personal items with spiritual significance, were carefully placed beside the map. There was an electromagnetic field (EMF) reader, a camera for capturing any unusual activity, a voice recorder, and even a journal for documenting everything. But the bracelet on her wrist still seemed like the most significant tool she had-its strange warmth and faint pulse had not ceased since she'd touched the map.

The Siwa Oasis was not far from Cairo, but the journey would take her into the heart of the desert, a place that had been the site of many ancient myths and legends. She felt a thrill of anticipation mixed with an underlying fear. She couldn't predict what she would find, but the sense of something grander than herself, something ancient, was undeniable.

(An EMF (Electromagnetic Field) reader is a device used to detect and measure electromagnetic fields. It is commonly used in paranormal investigations to detect fluctuations in electromagnetic energy, which some believe may indicate the presence of spirits or supernatural activity.)

Zahara booked a driver to take her deep into the desert, closer to the Oasis. As they drove through Cairo's chaotic streets and into the vast desert, the urban noise faded into a low hum behind her. She watched the landscape change-buildings giving way to the vast, rolling sand dunes. The desert stretched out as far as her eyes could see, the endless sand and heat forming a world completely different from the bustling city.

Her thoughts wandered as they drove, flicking between the past few days of fevered research and the increasingly intense dreams. She thought about the Keeper's cryptic warnings and the sensation that her journey was being watched, not only by unseen forces but by history itself.

The desert, it seemed, held the answers to questions that had been buried for millennia.

Hours later, Zahara stepped out into the desert air as they reached Siwa. The oasis was like an island of greenery surrounded by an ocean of sand. Palm trees, mud-brick houses, and the shimmering water felt like a world of their own-both a sanctuary and a mystery in themselves.

Zahara checked her bag, making sure the map and her equipment were safely inside. As she made her way through the narrow paths of Siwa, she noticed the people here were different. They moved with a calm, measured grace, as though they knew something she didn't, their eyes following her as she walked past. A shiver ran down her spine, though the midday sun was blazing overhead.

Zahara approached the inn where she would spend the night before venturing out toward Qasr Al Sahra. It was a small, humble place, its walls adorned with traditional desert motifs. The woman who greeted her at the door was elderly, her face weathered but her eyes sharp.

"You are looking for something," the woman said, her voice low and accented with the desert's quiet wisdom. "The sands have whispered of your arrival."

Zahara stopped short. She hadn't told anyone in Siwa about her true purpose. "I'm just passing through," she said, trying to keep her voice neutral.

The woman nodded slowly, knowingly. "The desert hides many secrets. Be careful what you seek."

That night, Zahara laid out all her equipment on the small table in her room. The EMF reader glowed faintly in the dim light, and the camera lens gleamed, ready to capture whatever mysteries awaited. The map lay unfolded next to her, the intricate symbols glowing faintly in the moonlight. She ran her fingers over it, feeling that familiar warmth spreading from the parchment.

Her breath caught as the symbols on the map seemed to shift, forming new patterns before her eyes. The lines that marked the location of Qasr Al Sahra grew sharper, more distinct. It was as if the map was leading her, guiding her to the exact spot.

Zahara blinked and leaned closer. Was this another sign? Or was she imagining it?The bracelet around her wrist warmed, its pulse quickening. She was closer now, closer than ever before.

That night, she couldn't sleep. Her dreams were restless and fragmented, filled with visions of sandstorms, ancient voices whispering in a language she didn't understand, and glimpses of the palace, towering above the desert like a phantom.

In the early hours of the morning, she awoke with a start, heart pounding. The dream had been different this time-clearer, more vivid. She had seen the man again, his silhouette sharp against the backdrop of the palace. He had reached out to her, his voice echoing through her mind.

"Come, Zahara."

There was no turning back now.

The First Steps Toward Qasr Al Sahra

With the first light of dawn, Zahara gathered her belongings and set out into the desert. She had the map, the equipment, and the unwavering determination that had brought her this far. As the sands shifted beneath her feet, she felt a strange energy in the air, as if the desert itself was alive, watching her.

The closer she got to the palace's supposed location, the stronger the pull became. Her heart raced with every step, and her breath came in short bursts as the heat and the anticipation built inside her.

Hours passed, the sun climbing higher in the sky, until at last, on the horizon, she saw it-a faint outline in the distance. Qasr Al Sahra.

The palace, hidden for centuries, loomed ahead, just within reach.

But even as it appeared before her, Zahara knew this was just the beginning.

Author's Note
Idk why you guys are not voting like u guys are reading but not voting???
It takes time to write a good story uk
It would be nice if you guys just tap that Star logo ...