Suleiman's Heart

CLARA STARED at the excavation site like a woman possessed. Her teammates cheered like they had won the Olympic gold medal. In a way, they did. Not every day could anyone find the legendary burial site of Sultan Suleiman, The Magnificent from the Ottoman Empire that flourished centuries ago. But as the United Nations Army and her team started the excavation after confirming the validity of their discovery, unfamiliar emotions stirred inside the Jewish archeologist.

'Why is my heart beating like crazy?' Clara pondered.

"We finally found it, Dr. Kosuma!" Professor Runyi, a professor of political geography from the University of Pecs, tapped her dusty shoulder, snapping her out of reverie. Turning to the old professor who helped her analyze the terrains from centuries ago and wore a big grin that could brighten up the cloudy weather. He was a big help to Dr. Clara Kosuma in this years-worth of research. "History is truly magical, eh? This farmland used to be an Oak forest four hundred years ago where Sultan Suleiman set his tent as he marched to Habsburg," said Professor Runyi.

Clara nodded as she looked around. They were currently on the farmland east of Pecs, rural southern Hungary. They followed an old road around the time of the great Turkish Sultan Suleiman, colloquially known as Turbek road.

Clara cleared her throat before answering the enthusiastic professor. She wondered what it felt to be truly happy. After being rejected and condemned for being Jewish as she grew up in America, Clara grew up entirely detached from her surroundings. She believed that she must shut down all her emotions and desire to ignore the bitter judgments around her. Her desire to be recognized was not because she was Jewish but because she got the skill thrown and locked away at the deepest part of herself, forgotten forever.

"It is too early to celebrate, Professor Runyi. This might be like those times." She meant when they had high hopes only to dig up nothing. But they did not give up, especially Clara, the head of the exploration team, because if she did, she would have nothing left in her thirty-two years of existence.

Professor Runyi laughed at her remark, "Then we have to dig up some hole in another farmland again."

In the back of her mind, she thought. 'Yes, we can't afford to give up our search for Sultan Suleiman's heart.'

Ottoman Empire's golden age was during the reign of Sultan Suleiman, The Magnificent. He was a famous figure in Turkey, Istanbul, Hungary, and even the entire world since, during his reign, he almost conquered Europe. His last march was with his 100,000 elite soldiers to Hapsburg. According to the records that her team found and translated, he died inside his tent. His body was brought back to Constantinople, now called Istanbul, without his heart. And her team believed that the Sultan's lost heart was buried near the tent where he died. Questions arose from the Sultan's peculiar request.

'Why leave your heart? What happened?' These questions kept on repeating in her mind. She did not know why, but she felt something was amiss.

Clara tightly smiled at the professor as she returned her gaze to the excavation site before her, dismissing the professor who was already used to her closed-off attitude. She knew that her team called her a cyborg hence her chilling demeanor. But in reality, Clara just wanted to focus on her research in the lost tomb of Sultan Suleiman's heart to gain the recognition she had longed for all her life. Some of her teammates called her Suleiman's fanatic, and some soldiers called her a psycho obsessing over the Sultan because of her devotion to the research. Still, for Clara, who shut all emotions, it was nothing to her.

Clara still remembered the moment she decided to find his lost tomb. It was during that time that she had just recently graduated from Princeton. Clara attended an auction that featured decorations from the Ottoman Empire. Just like she was feeling now, her heartbeat was frantic, as if she was being chased by burglars or something. She could not remove her eyes from the carpets and porcelains being auctioned. But what astounded her was when the auction host mentioned Sultan Suleiman's rather precious carpet, which apparently was a gift from someone to the Sultan; Clara's heart ached. For the first time in many years, she felt the emotion of heartache just by gazing at the ancient carpet.

Her curiosity that was piqued at the auction was the turning point of her life. She made use of her talent and profession to search for answers. And it led her to this moment. Clenching her hands, she observed the ongoing excavation from her tent. Maps, letters, books, and her instruments were scattered on her desk, but she paid them no attention. She had witnessed this kind of scene in her years of research, and she knew that she should not expect anything. But an emotion called nostalgia knocked in her heart for some reasons she did not know.

'Is this a sign that I finally found the lost tomb of Sultan Suleiman's heart?' Clara thought hopefully. There was a swirl of emotions in her heart.

For now, she could only hope.