Chapter Three: Whispers of Wind

The Al-Amal, a fragile leaf tossed on the inky black sea, carried its weary passengers further into the vast unknown. The chilling memory of the djinn village clung to them like the damp sea air, a constant reminder of the unseen terrors that lurked beneath the surface of the world. The goats, sensing the fear that permeated the boat, bleated nervously, their cries echoing across the water like mournful whispers.

"They're still out there," Khalid muttered, his gaze fixed on the dark horizon.

"Watching us."

Omar shivered, though the night air was not particularly cold. He could almost feel the eyes of the djinn upon them, burning into their backs. He knew that they were not safe, that the ghostly village was not just an isolated incident, but a manifestation of the dark forces that ruled the sea.

"We need to find land," he said, his voice hoarse.

"Any land. We can't stay out here."

"Land is a gamble," Captain Idris replied, his voice weary. "We could end up in another trap."

He was right. They had learned their lesson. Any port in a storm was no longer a viable option. They couldn't trust what they saw, what they heard. The sea was a realm of illusions, a place where nightmares took shape and reality blurred with the supernatural.

As the days dragged on, their supplies dwindled further. The water barrel was almost empty, the dried bread reduced to crumbs. The goats, their bleating now tinged with desperation, were a constant reminder of their impending hunger.

"We have to make a decision," Omar said, his voice firm. "We can't just drift aimlessly. We need a plan."

Khalid nodded, his face grim. "We'll sail with the wind," he said. "And pray that it leads us to safety."

They adjusted the tattered sail, letting the wind guide their course. They sailed for days, their hope dwindling with each passing hour. The image of the djinn village, the chilling laughter, the vacant eyes, haunted their dreams.

Then, one evening, as the sun began to set, casting long, eerie shadows across the water, a cry went up from the lookout. "A boat! I see a boat!"

A surge of hope, fragile and tentative, coursed through the men. They strained their eyes, peering into the distance. And there it was, a small fishing boat, its sail silhouetted against the dying light.

"It's Idris's boat!" Khalid exclaimed, recognizing the familiar shape.

A wave of relief washed over them. They were not alone. Their companions had survived the storm.

As the two boats drew closer, they could see Idris and the other men waving frantically. They were alive, but they looked weary, their faces etched with the same fear and desperation that they themselves felt.

"Thank Allah!" Omar cried, his voice filled with emotion. "You're safe!"

"We thought we'd lost you," Idris replied, his voice hoarse. "We were caught in the storm. We barely made it."

The two boats lashed together, the men exchanging stories of their ordeal. They had both faced the fury of the storm, the fear of death, the chilling loneliness of being lost at sea. They had both seen the darkness that lurked beneath the surface of the world.

"We saw something," Idris said, his voice low. "Something… unnatural."

"The djinn," Khalid whispered, his face pale.

Idris nodded. "We saw their lights. They were following us."

A wave of fear washed over the men. They were not safe. The djinn were still pursuing them, their presence a constant threat.

"We have to leave," Omar said, his voice urgent. "We can't stay here. They'll find us."

"Where can we go?" Khalid asked, his voice filled with despair.

Omar looked towards the horizon, his gaze fixed on the setting sun.

 "We go back," he said. "We go back to where we came from."

"But it's dangerous there," Idris protested. "The raiders…Irhab- terrorists."

"It's dangerous everywhere," Omar replied. "But at least it's familiar. At least we know what to expect."

He looked at the other men, their faces etched with doubt and fear. "We can't run forever," he said. "We have to face our fears. We have to fight for our home. We have to continue"

A murmur of agreement spread through the group. They had tried to escape their problems, to find a better life elsewhere. But they had learned that there was no escape from the darkness that lurked within the human heart, the darkness that could manifest itself in the form of djinn, raiders, or the unforgiving sea. They had to confront that darkness, not run from it.

The two boats, lashed together against the vast, indifferent ocean, drifted for what felt like an eternity. The fear of the djinn, the gnawing hunger, and the weight of their failed attempts pressed down on the men, threatening to crush their spirits. Captain Idris, his usual gruff authority diminished, seemed lost in his own thoughts, his gaze fixed on the endless horizon.

"We can't go back," Khalid said, his voice barely a whisper.

"Not yet. There's nothing there for us but more pain."

Omar nodded, his heart heavy. He knew Khalid was right. Returning home meant facing not only the irhab and the hardships they had tried to escape, but also the ghosts of his own past, a past he had tried to bury beneath the waves.

He looked at Khalid's young son, huddled beside his father, his eyes wide and innocent, reflecting the starlight that glittered on the water. An idea sparked in his mind. He remembered the stories his grandmother used to tell, stories of sailors who navigated by the stars, using them as a map across the vast ocean.

"The stars," he said, his voice gaining strength. "We can use the stars to guide us."

Khalid looked at him, his eyes filled with doubt.

"The stars? You think we can navigate by the stars?"

"My grandmother taught me," Omar explained. "She showed me how to find the North Star, how to use the constellations to find our way."

Idris, who had been listening quietly, looked at Omar with a glimmer of interest in his eyes. "Can you really do it?" he asked.

Omar nodded, his confidence growing. He had nothing to lose. They were lost, adrift, with no other hope. He pointed to the sky, identifying the constellations, explaining how they could use them to find their way.

"It's a risk," Idris said, "but it's a risk we have to take."

And so, under the watchful gaze of the stars, they set sail once more, guided by Omar's knowledge and the faint glimmer of hope that had rekindled in their hearts. As they sailed, Omar began to share his story, the story he had kept hidden, the story that had driven him to leave his home.

"It wasn't just the poverty," he said, his voice low, his gaze fixed on the starlit sky. "It was… personal. I was betrothed to a woman, a woman I loved. But she… she rejected me. She chose another, a man with more wealth, more status."

He paused, the pain of the rejection still raw after all this time. "I was humiliated, heartbroken. I couldn't stay. I had to leave. For my very first time I fell in love, she too was in love with me. But just overnight I became someone. A passenger in story."

He looked at Khalid, his eyes filled with understanding. "My mother… she knew how much I was hurting. She sold her gold, her only heirloom, and gave it to me. She told me to say that I had stolen it, that I had robbed her. She said it was the only way to protect me from my father's madness. He was a proud man, easily angered. She feared his reaction to my rejection."

Khalid listened in silence, his face etched with sympathy. He understood the pain of betrayal, the desperation that could drive a man to leave everything behind.

Omar continued his story, his voice filled with emotion. "I didn't want to leave. I loved my home, my family. But I couldn't stay. The shame, the humiliation… it was too much to bear. I had to go, to find a way to rebuild my life, to prove that I was worthy. I want to be rich"

He looked at the stars, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and determination. "I don't know if I'll ever go back," he said. "But I know that I can't give up. I have to keep going, keep fighting, keep hoping. For myself, for my family, for the future."

As he finished his story, a sense of quiet understanding settled over the men. They had all shared their own burdens, their own reasons for leaving their homes. They were all bound together by their shared journey, their shared struggles, and their shared hope for a better future. And as they sailed under the watchful gaze of the stars, they knew that they were not just navigating the sea, but also navigating the complex currents of their own lives, their own pasts, and their own dreams. The stars were their guide, not just across the ocean, but also across the uncharted territories of their own hearts.

The starlight, a constant companion on their lonely voyage, seemed to amplify the silence between the men. Omar's story had hung in the air, a raw testament to the pain and desperation that could drive a man to leave everything behind. To risk his own life , to dice for the unknown. Now, it was Khalid's turn. He sat huddled near his son, the boy asleep in his arms, his small face illuminated by the flickering lantern light. He looked out at the dark water, his expression a mixture of sadness and resolve.

"My story," he began, his voice low and hesitant, "it's not so different from yours, Omar. It's a story of loss, of desperation, of trying to protect what I love."

He paused, his gaze drifting to his sleeping son. "My wife… she died giving birth to him. She was young, beautiful… and gone too soon. I was devastated. I didn't know how to raise a child, how to cope with the grief. I was lost."

He sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of his memories. "Our village… it was never a place of much opportunity. We struggled to survive, but we had each other. We had our community. But then… the violence started. The raiders, they came more frequently, taking what little we had, spreading fear and terror. It became impossible to live there."

His voice grew harder, his eyes filled with a flicker of anger. "I couldn't stay. I couldn't raise my son in a place where he would be constantly afraid, where he would have no future. I had to leave. I had to find a better life for him, a safe place where he could grow up without fear. It is impossible to raise a kid in a place where you had buried your dreams with your very own bare hands".

He looked at Omar, his eyes filled with understanding. "I understand why you left, Omar. I understand the pain of rejection, the need to escape. We all have our reasons for leaving, our own burdens to carry. But we are all united by one thing – the hope for a better future."

He paused, his gaze returning to his son. "My son… he's my everything. He's the reason I keep going, the reason I keep fighting. I would do anything for him."

His voice softened, filled with tenderness. "I know it's a risk, this journey. I know we might not make it. But I have to try. I have to give him a chance, a chance at a life he deserves."

He looked up at the stars, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and fear. "I don't know what the future holds," he said. "But I know that I will never give up. I will keep fighting, keep hoping, keep believing. For my son, for my family, for the future."

He fell silent, the only sound the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull of the boat. His story, like Omar's, was a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, the unwavering love of a parent, and the enduring power of hope. As they sailed under the watchful gaze of the stars, they were no longer just a group of men adrift at sea. They were a family, bound together by their shared struggles, their shared dreams, and their shared determination to create a better future for themselves and their loved ones. They were all carrying their own burdens, their own stories of loss and desperation, but they were also carrying the flame of hope, a flame that burned brightly in the darkness, guiding them towards an uncertain but hopeful future.

The quiet hum of the boat slicing through the water, the gentle creak of the mast, the soft bleating of the goats – these familiar sounds of their precarious existence were suddenly shattered. The starlight, which had been their guide, now seemed to mock their vulnerability. Without warning, the Al-Amal lurched violently, throwing the men against each other.

"What was that?" Khalid cried, scrambling to his feet, his son stirring in his arms.

Before anyone could answer, the boat lurched again, even more violently this time. The goats bleated in terror, their hooves scrabbling against the deck. The water around the boat began to churn, a dark, swirling mass of foam and fury.

"Something's attacking us!" Omar shouted, his voice laced with fear.

A fin, huge and menacing, sliced through the surface of the water, followed by the massive, dark form of a creature unlike any they had ever seen. It was a fish, but a fish of monstrous proportions, its scales gleaming like obsidian in the starlight. Its jaws, lined with razor-sharp teeth, opened and closed with a terrifying snap.

"A shark!" Idris yelled, his face pale. "A big one!"

The shark, drawn by the vibrations of the boat and perhaps the scent of the goats, had found them. It circled the Al-Amal, its massive form casting a dark shadow over the small vessel. It rammed the boat again, the impact sending tremors through the wooden hull. The men braced themselves, their hearts pounding in their chests.

"We have to defend ourselves!" Omar shouted, grabbing a loose piece of wood.

Khalid, holding his son tightly, grabbed an oar, his knuckles white. Idris, despite his age, grabbed the tiller, trying to maneuverer the boat away from the predator.

The shark attacked again, this time its jaws snapping just inches from the side of the boat. The men could see the rows of razor-sharp teeth, the cold, black eyes, the sheer power of the creature.

"It's going to capsize us!" Khalid cried, his voice filled with a morbid panic.

The shark seemed intent on doing just that. It rammed the boat again and again, each impact threatening to tear the fragile vessel apart. The men fought back with whatever they could find – oars, pieces of wood, even their bare hands. But it was like trying to fight a mountain. The shark was too big, too strong, too relentless.

Then, just as the men were beginning to lose hope, Idris, with a desperate maneuverer, managed to steer the boat into a different direction. The shark, momentarily confused, paused its attack. It circled the boat once more, its massive form a terrifying presence in the water.

"We have to get away from it!" Omar shouted.

Idris, his face grim, nodded. He knew they couldn't fight the shark. Their only chance was to escape. He adjusted the sail, trying to catch any stray breeze.

The shark, sensing their attempt to flee, renewed its attack. It followed the boat relentlessly, its fin slicing through the water, its jaws snapping menacingly. The men held their breath, their eyes fixed on the predator, waiting for the next attack.

The chase continued for what felt like an eternity. The shark, despite its size, was surprisingly agile, keeping pace with the Al-Amal. The men were exhausted, their muscles aching, their spirits broken.

Then, just as they were beginning to despair, the shark suddenly stopped its pursuit. It circled the boat one last time, then, without warning, it disappeared into the depths of the sea.

The men watched in stunned silence, their bodies trembling, their breaths ragged. They had survived. They had escaped the jaws of death, but they knew that the sea was full of dangers, both seen and unseen. They had faced the djinn, they had faced the storm, and now they had faced the monstrous shark. Their journey was a constant battle for survival, a constant struggle against the forces of nature, the forces of evil, and the sheer unpredictability of the sea. And as the Al-Amal, battered and bruised but still afloat, continued its uncertain journey, the men knew that they would face whatever challenges lay ahead, together. They were bound by their shared experiences, their shared fears, and their shared hope for a better future. They were survivors, and they would keep fighting, keep hoping, keep believing, until they reached their destination, or until the sea claimed them all.

The silence that followed the shark's disappearance was heavy, punctuated only by the creak of the Al-Amal and the nervous bleating of the goats. The men, still shaken from the encounter, huddled together, their eyes scanning the water, waiting for the inevitable return. They knew the shark hadn't given up. It was out there, lurking beneath the surface, waiting for another opportunity to strike.

"It'll be back," Khalid whispered, his voice laced with dread.

 "They always come back. Like nightmares"

Omar nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew Khalid was right. They had been given a brief reprieve, a moment to catch their breath, but the danger was far from over.

"We need to be ready," he said, grabbing a piece of broken wood.

 "We have to fight back. It is a matter of death and life"

The men armed themselves with whatever again, They knew it was a futile gesture against such a powerful predator, but they had to do something. They couldn't just sit there and wait to be devoured.

They kept watch, their eyes fixed on the water, searching for any sign of the shark's return. The sun began to set, casting long, ominous shadows across the sea. The darkness seemed to amplify their fear, making every ripple, every splash, sound like the approach of the monstrous fish.

Then, just as the last sliver of daylight disappeared below the horizon, it came. The water churned, a dark, swirling mass of foam erupting just a few feet from the boat. The shark, its massive form illuminated by the faint starlight, rose from the depths, its jaws open, its teeth gleaming like daggers.

"It's here!" Omar shouted, his voice filled with a sharp terror.

The shark attacked with renewed ferocity, ramming the boat again and again, its powerful body shaking the fragile vessel. The men fought back with whatever they had, but their efforts were useless. The shark was too strong, too relentless.

It lunged at the boat, its jaws snapping just inches from Omar's face. He recoiled in horror, his heart leaping into his throat. He could smell the fishy stench of the shark's breath, see the cold, black eyes staring at him with predatory intent.

The shark seemed determined to capsize the boat. It rammed the Al-Amal again, this time with even greater force. The boat groaned under the impact, the wooden planks splintering. The men were thrown against each other, their bodies bruised and battered.

"We're going down!" Khalid screamed, his voice filled with despair.

The boat tilted precariously, water rushing over the side. The goats bleated in terror, their hooves scrabbling against the slippery deck. The men clung to the sides of the boat, their knuckles white, their faces pale.

Just as they were about to be thrown into the churning water, Idris, with a final burst of strength, managed to right the boat. He grabbed the tiller, trying to steer the Al-Amal away from the shark's attack.

The shark, momentarily stunned, paused its assault. It circled the boat, its massive form a terrifying presence in the water. The men watched in horror, waiting for the next attack.

Then, something unexpected happened. One of the goats, in its terror, broke free from its tether. It stumbled across the deck, its hooves slipping on the wet wood. It fell overboard, landing with a splash in the water.

The shark, sensing the easy prey, turned its attention to the goat. It lunged at the struggling animal, its jaws closing around its body with a sickening crunch.

The men watched in horrified silence as the shark devoured the goat, its massive form disappearing beneath the surface. The water was stained red with blood.

They knew they had been given a reprieve, a second chance. The shark, distracted by the goat, had left them alone, at least for the moment. They had paid a terrible price, but they had survived.

As the Al-Amal, battered and bloodied but still afloat, drifted through the dark water, the men knew that they would never forget the horror of the shark attack. They had faced death, and they had survived. But they also knew that the sea was full of dangers, and that their journey was far from over. They had lost one of their goats, their "insurance," but they had gained something else – a renewed sense of determination, a resolve to keep fighting, keep hoping, keep believing, until they reached their destination, or until the sea claimed them all.

The silence after the shark's gruesome feast was thick with a mixture of relief and dread. The Al-Amal, scarred and bloodied, drifted under the cold gaze of the stars. The men huddled together, the image of the goat's violent end seared into their minds. They knew it could have been them.

"We have to get out of here," Khalid whispered, his voice trembling. "This place… it's cursed."

Omar nodded, his heart heavy. He looked at Idris, whose face was etched with exhaustion and a deep sadness. The captain, who had faced countless storms and perils at sea, seemed to have aged years in the past few hours.

"Where do we go?" Idris asked, his voice barely audible.

"Anywhere," Omar replied. "Just away from here."

They adjusted the sail, letting the wind guide them once more. The Al-Amal, now carrying one less goat, drifted through the night, its passengers haunted by the memory of the shark attack. The remaining goats, sensing the fear that permeated the boat, bleated softly, their cries like mournful whispers carried on the wind.

Days passed. The sun rose and set, painting the sky with hues of orange and purple, but the beauty of the natural world offered little comfort. The men were weary, their bodies aching, their spirits broken. The water barrel was almost empty, the remaining food rations were meagre. Hunger gnawed at their bellies, and thirst parched their throats.

"We're going to die out here," Khalid whispered, his voice filled with despair.

"We're going to die today," said Khalid again.

Omar looked at him, his heart heavy. He knew Khalid was right. Their situation was dire. They were lost, adrift, with no hope of rescue. They were doomed. He looked at the sky, the stars now seeming less like guides and more like indifferent observers of their impending demise. He thought of his mother, her face etched with worry as she pressed the stolen gold into his hand. He thought of Aisha, her kind eyes and gentle smile, a memory that now felt like a cruel taunt. He had failed them all. He had failed himself at the first place.

Then, a different kind of whisper reached his ears, a whisper not of despair, but of the wind. It wasn't the usual sighing of the breeze, but a higher-pitched, almost musical sound, like a distant flute.

"Do you hear that?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

Khalid shook his head, his gaze fixed on the empty horizon. "Hear what? Just the wind."

"No," Omar insisted. "Listen."

He strained his ears, focusing on the subtle melody carried on the wind. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but it was there. And as he listened, he realized it was growing louder, more distinct. It was a song, a haunting melody played on some unseen instrument.

"It's… music," Idris said, his voice filled with confusion. He, too, could hear it now.

The music grew stronger, filling the air with its ethereal beauty. It was unlike anything they had ever heard, a melody that seemed to resonate deep within their souls. It was both comforting and unsettling, a siren's call in the vast emptiness of the sea.

As they listened, a faint glow appeared on the horizon, a soft, pulsating light that seemed to emanate from the source of the music. It grew brighter, gradually taking shape, resolving itself into the silhouette of an island.

"Land?" Khalid whispered, his voice filled with disbelief.

As they drew closer, the island revealed itself. It was unlike any place they had ever seen. Lush vegetation covered the hills, waterfalls cascaded down the cliffs, and strange, luminous flowers bloomed in vibrant colours. The air was filled with the sweet scent of exotic spices and the enchanting melody of the unseen musicians.

"It's… magical, good god" Idris breathed, his eyes wide with wonder.

As they approached the shore, they saw figures moving amongst the trees, their forms indistinct, almost translucent. They were drawn to the island by the music, by the promise of safety, by the hope of a miracle.

They landed the boat on a white sand beach, their legs trembling, their hearts filled with a mixture of awe and trepidation. As they stepped onto the shore, the music grew louder, more intoxicating. The air shimmered with an otherworldly energy.

They walked towards the source of the music, drawn by its irresistible allure. The figures they had seen from the boat became clearer, revealing themselves to be beings of light, their forms ethereal, their faces serene. They were not human, not djinn, but something else entirely, something beyond their comprehension.

The beings of light welcomed them with open arms, their voices soft and melodic. They offered them food, water, and rest. They told them that they were safe, that they had found sanctuary on their island.

Omar, Khalid, the kid and Idris, exhausted and bewildered, accepted their hospitality. They ate the strange, delicious fruits, drank the sparkling water, and lay down to rest on beds of soft, luminous moss. As they drifted off to sleep, they heard the music, the haunting melody that had led them to this magical place, a melody that promised peace, healing, and a new beginning. They had been lost, adrift, doomed. But they had been found, not by a rescue ship, not by a familiar shore, but by the music of the unseen, by the magic of the sea. And as they slept, they dreamed of a future filled with light, beauty, and the enchanting melody that had saved them from despair.

Was it a dream ?…. Was it real? ... I think it is a mirage …. Jinn again…..