108 The Storm

He had been awoken by a faint strangling sound that made his blood run cold. He sat up finding himself alone in the giant bed, his wife no longer beside him.

Jari Maan al-Hassan walked through the corridors looking as to where she could be at the ungodly hour.

The man soon had his answers. As he walked through the dark corridors he stumbled over a large dark mass near the cooking area.

On the ground near his feet lay their only servant. An older widow by the name of Sama, she mostly helped them with their two little girls who were about as wild as their late aunt had been. The older woman's neck had been broken.

Jari Maan al- Hassan recoiled from the ghastly sight and began looking for his wife with renewed vigor. No longer fearing to wake anyone, he started to call for her while turning to head to the girls' room.

"Fajr! Fajr!"

.. "Jari..." Her weak voice came from wall, hidden in the shadows not far from where old Sama lay.

Her two hands were pressed to her swollen belly, blood seeping between her fingers.

"Fajr!" He rushed to her, trying to check her grievous injury. She grabbed onto his hands tightly, a grim light burning in her eyes.

"Take the girls and leave here immediately!"

"Not without you, now come, let me help you, we will get the girls on time." He tried to help her stand but she refused, pushing him away.

"No, it will take too much time! You need to go make sure they are safe first! The ones who did this didn't ask questions or anything they just struck, please Jari."

"Fine, you stay here, hidden. I will return for you after the girls. Wait here." Seeing her nod in acknowledgement he moved quickly and quietly.

He grabbed the door to their room only to find light coming from within. Inside sat his older brother, turned to the door as if waiting for him. His two little girls were holding onto each other as a man with a bloody knife stood over them.

"Fahir, what is the meaning of this?"

"Ah Jari, little brother, at last you join us. Did you find the presents I left for you?" He smirked as he said that, his gold-flecked eyes cold.

"You did that to Fajr and old Sama? But why brother?" He held out his hands imploringly.

"It's time you choose a side in this war. You have been sitting on the fence for too long. Our patience has grown thin."

"Why does there even need to be war? What you and Mamud are planning to do is wrong!"

Jari Maan al- Hassan threw himself at his brother, trying to strangle him with his bare hands. "They were your nieces how could you!"

"Easily, just like this."

Fahir Sarhan al-Hassan whipped out a small dagger and lodged it firmly into his side. He twisted it in cruelly dropping his younger brother to the floor before walking over him.

"Set fire to this place, and be done with it quickly. We need to prepare an appropriate gift for my father."

The man who had murdered his daughters took one of the candles lighting the room and threw it on their bed, igniting it. He coldly eyed Jari Maan al-Hassan who kneeled on the ground holding the blade sticking from him.

Jari Maan al-Hassan cried out seeing it set aflame and took a few steps forward to see that there was nothing that could be done. The damage had already been done.

Staggering from the room, leaving a trail, he went back to where he had left Fajr. She reclined against the wall where he had left her. Her face was now ashen and cold to the touch.

The man wept as he looked at ruin his brother's had brought down onto his household.

'For Fajr. For my little Tali and Yahra. I will see that you be brought to justice for this atrocity.'