Liyah's breath hitched in her throat. The sandy desert stretched for miles and miles, without end. She looked at the two in front of her with an exasperated expression etched on her face, "Tell me this gets easier."
Rayan smirked, "Careful, habibti...
Music suggestion once again? Manal is actually really good (especially NTA) . Don't understand a word of Derija or french lmao but she's great nonetheless. I'm going to Morocco in a few days so hopefully I come back home with a better Derija vocab.
Also a big big big thank you to ESJohnson and @charazd for all the love! I really do appreciate the comments and votes ❤️
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Chapter 12 | The Land of The Dead saker falcons cry out, for the enemies have their eyes on three souls
THE BRIGHT CYAN-PAINTED SKIES WERE fading and a tinge of orange began to spring up from the dunes. While the sun's rays slowly bid them a goodbye, they could still feel the sting of the heat on the surface of the sand. The trio had been wandering north for quite a while until they unanimously decided to stop. Farrah trekked in front, inspecting each heap to prop her swollen feet onto the cooler beds of sand.
Liyah winced as she took another step towards Farrah. She stopped and slowly undid each strap of her leather shoe, only to discover the source of her discomfort. The metal buckle of the thick band of leather had cut into the flesh of her right ankle, leaving a thin trail of blood down her foot. She bit down on her tongue when the wound grazed against the sand. Liyah shook off the pain and decided to walk on the tips of feet instead. When Farrah called out her name, she increased her pace, but her abnormal footing caused her to tumbled forward in the sand. She let out a small shriek, planting her hands into the grains so that she could save her face from a mouth full of sand.
Rayan's motion halted when he heard the cry behind him. The boy stood rooted in his spot, before a small tug in his chest urged him to reverse his tracks. He rolled his eyes and turned back to help her.
She sneered when his towering figure shadowed her from the sun's honey-gold and orange light, "I don't need your help."
"Of course, Leyla." He rolled his eyes and pulled her up by her arm. She grunted in response and dusted the sand off once she regained her balance.
Rayan's head sunk to the shoe's strap intertwined into her hand and then to her feet. He grimaced when he noticed that she was hurt. The desert was proving to be harsh for the city travelers. Liyah's mobility, no matter how much she denied it, was slowly deteriorating. Farrah's feet become too tender to travel any further and his stamina was beginning to falter, thanks to the humidity of the day.
But although his wariness of their travels ate away most of his thoughts, he still found time to appreciate the grace of his princess from afar. Farrah had sprawled herself on the sand while her eyelids peacefully fluttered from her exhaustion. Her thick, raven strands were coiled into a bun at the top of her head, leaving the fly-aways at the front of her face to twirl in the subtle breeze. Even in her depleted state, she still enchanted him; her golden skin still retained its royal glow. He stared at her longingly, wishing that he could feel the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips.
