Sirocco

"O my Soul, there is a link between your hear and mine.
And my heart is looking for that path.
My heart is clear and pure like water and pure water
is a perfect mirror for moonlight."

--Mevlana Jalalu'din Rumi, Veiled

Please… Let me die…

The hot desert sun was starting to set, and the cold was creeping in. The last of Saira's strength gave out and she collapsed in the hot sand. Her lips were dry and cracked and her eyes, her nose, and her lungs were full of dust. She tried to crawl, to drag herself a little further but it was no use.

Saira rolled onto her back in the shadow of bleak, wind-carved rocks and her eyes stared up into sky, into the infinite darkening nothing. Her lungs burned and struggled for every breath and her eyes opened and closed, not really seeing the desolate desert around her. The wind was picking up now…

I'll be buried, Saira smiled vaguely. I'll be dead and buried before something comes to pick at my body…

Her eyes closed and she welcomed the desert's harsh embrace as it made to consume her. Sand half covered her now and her breath grew more and more shallow. Saira felt something like the briefest touch of fingers on her brow. Her eyes barely opened. Something was reaching for her, something dark.

Shai'el, Saira thought dimly. The devils are here to take me…

It was the last thing she thought before darkness swallowed her.

***

He watched her, the same he had done for the past day or so now. The woman he found on the sands refused to stir. Nothing he did seemed to rouse her. It was as though the desert had cursed her to permanent sleep.

Who would condemn such a beauty to die? He thought as he reached out to stroke dark hair from her face. Who would leave her in the desert like that?

Fingers wrapped in black silk barely touched her hair and he thought against it. He withdrew his hand as though it were a sin to touch such beauty, and sighed softly. He reached for a tarnished, silver carafe, poured water into a small, tarnished silver tumbler, and brought it to her lips. A little managed to trickle down her throat, but the rest ran down the side of her mouth. He gently mopped the water from her face with a covered hand.

He rose from her bedside and arranged the diaphanous silk so it was closed again, and poked at the brazier where sweet herbs and resins barely smoldered now. With a gentle breath, he blew out an oil lamp, and took up the plate of food that he'd left a while ago in hopes that she might wake up.

I was too late, he thought. I found her too late, and she's probably too weak. I don't know how long she was out there crawling around in the sand.

He took one last look at her through the silk. Any moment, she looked like she would wake up from her seemingly peaceful sleep.

This is too cruel to put such a temptation before me.

His brow furrowed and he pushed aside the thought, disgusted that he would even think of a helpless woman in that way, no matter how beautiful. He shook his head and turned away to blow out the last lamp.

The least I can do is make her comfortable...

***

There was something soft, something warm against her skin as Saira slowly awoke. Her ears rang and dizziness forced her back down to the pillows. She stayed there for long moments before she slowly tried again.

Saira's eyes squinted through the sheer silk that surrounded her bed. The flicker of oil lamps cast strange shadows around her that she didn't recognize. The perfume of soft, spicy incense hung in the air and she reached out to part the gauzy curtain.

Where am I?

Saira peered around the room—if it could even be called that. At one time it might've been beautiful: tiles of cracked, once vibrant mosaic tiles of blues, greens, golds and reds set in white, lined the ruined walls in patches. She thought they might've been arranged into flowers of some sort. Half the room looked like it was smashed in by rocks and the other half, ravaged by time.

"This was once a beautiful place..." Saira murmured to herself.

She went to get up and realized that she was naked.

Where… are my clothes!?

Saira pulled the silk she'd been sleeping under, around her, and got up. She wrapped it a little tighter and tucked it in at her chest. On one of the rocky outcroppings that penetrated the room, she saw one of the flickering oil lamps. There was also a small table set with food and a carafe. Saira rushed over to it and for a moment, she hesitated.

A mirage? She thought. A dream? It looks fresh.

She picked up the carafe.

Fresh water…

Saira didn't care if it was real or not. She reached out, ravenous, as she pushed olives into her mouth. The figs tasted sweet and wonderful on her tongue and the meat, the delicious strips of meat went just as fast. Saira washed it down with the water. She drank cup after cup until her thirst was sated, and the carafe nearly dry.

Someone's here, She thought. Someone put this here…

"Hello!" she called out. "Hello?"

A dark shade approached the room and stopped at the feminine voice. It ducked out of sight behind a broken column and peered out at Saira from behind.

She's awake!

His heart soared with joy… and terror.

"Is anyone there? Can anyone hear me?"

His eyes closed behind the black veil he wore.

I want to go to her, but…

He cursed under his breath and moved from the column to behind the wide mosaic arch that made up the doorway to the room where Saira was.

"Anyone?" she pleaded. "Please?"

Her last words sounded so mournful that it pained him. He swallowed his fear, but his lips still trembled as he spoke:

"Did you eat well?"

Saira turned abruptly, but saw no one.

"Who's there?"

"Are you warm enough?"

"Where am I?"

He heard her small feet patter across the broken marble towards him.

"Stop."

Saira came to a halt at the strong, firm masculine voice behind the door's frame.

"You're my guest," he said. "And you're safe. I was… worried for you."

"Worried? I don't--"

"--I found you, took you in from the desert. I was afraid you wouldn't wake."

"In the desert…" Saira murmured.

Her chest heaved at the memory of sand and searing heat that had choked her lungs. She remembered the merciless sun and vaguely, the shadow that had reached for her.

"Who are you?"

"Kahlil," he said.

And before he could stop himself:

"I am at your service."

There was silence between them for a moment and Kahlil swallowed hard.

"If there's nothing else, then I'll--"

"Thank you, Kahlil," Saira said softly. "My life… is yours."

Saira heard him sigh softly.

"I don't want your life," he said. "But if I could know your name?"

"Saira…"

Saira, Kahlil thought. Lotus--and just as beautiful as one.

"Good evening then, Saira. I'll see if you need anything in the morning. Rest well."

Kahlil drifted off and Saira was left standing in flickering shadows of the crumbled room, wondering who this man was.

***

The evening gave way to morning, and the sun slowly rose over the desert as Kahlil closed one of many old trunks in his room.

This should do…

What should've taken two men to lift; he lifted effortlessly into his arms, carried it to Saira's room, and quietly set it aside. He went back for the food that he had prepared for her earlier and sighed nervously as he made his way back.

This is madness! Kahlil chided himself. Give her food and water—send her away before she finds out! If she stays, if she comes to know…

When he came to Saira's room and saw her sleeping so peaceful beyond the gauzy veil his heart protested.

You know you can't do that… Kahlil told himself. There's nothing but desert, no place she could walk to. If you send her out there, she'll perish. You'll be little better than the monsters who left her to die.

He set the plate of food down on the small table and turned to leave, when Saira stirred. The silk slid off her tanned skin, revealing beautiful, firm breasts and a strong, slender body. Kahlil felt himself stir for the first time in ages at the beauty of a woman's body, and he swallowed hard against his sudden arousal.

A shrouded hand parted the diaphanous curtain around her and he reached out, tempted again by her beauty.

I mustn't!

"Kahlil?"

Saira awoke and saw the curtain flutter as though someone had disturbed it, but no one was there.

"Is that you?"

"It is… My apologies if I woke you too soon."

At first, she only heard his voice, but at the foot of her bed, well beyond the reach of the oil lantern's light, she saw a dark shape with two golden eyes that faintly glowed behind a dark veil.

Her breath caught in her chest and she pulled the silks up against her.

"Please," Kahlil said gently. "Don't be afraid. I told you that you're safe."

"Why… won't you come into the light? Why won't you let me see you?"

"I've brought you some food." He said as he brushed aside her questions. "There's fresh water or wine, if you prefer."

Kahlil's golden eyes gently looked on her, and Saira felt a little more at ease, but she wished she could see the rest of him. She got up, silk wrapped around her, and idly nibbled on an olive.

"There are clothes as well."

Saira watched as Kahlil gestured to the chest and it opened on its own. Gorgeous silks and sumptuous cottons drifted out and started to swirl around her. There were solids in bold colors and embroidered veils; even sandals. Saira was speechless. She couldn't even begin to choose, much less understand what was happening around her.

Kahlil saw that she was a bit overwhelmed, maybe even scared. With a short gesture, the textiles returned to the chest except for a beautiful green and copper one. It settled across the lid with a pair of sandals next to it.

"I think…it would be beautiful on you." Kahlil said softly. "I'd like it if you'd join me for dinner tonight."

All Saira could do was nod, and Kahlil started to drift away.

"Who are you?" she murmured.

Kahlil stopped and looked back at her over her shoulder.

"I am the Prince of Karakal," he said. "And I am the last."

Saira tried to say something more, but Kahlil faded into the shadows of the ruins beyond her room.

***

The chill of the desert evening woke Saira from her nap. She undid the green and bronze silk that Kahlil had chosen for her and decided to tie it in a different fashion. Saira brought it around her waist until the two halves met in front of her. She rolled the halves down until it was a tight cord of silk, passed it between her legs, and tied it off with a wide, bronze sash. She now had billowing, silken pants tied in the style of Pashar nomads.

Saira opened the chest to see if there was anything else she could wear. Her breasts gently swayed as she pushed aside textiles and clothes, looking for something to match. She found a delicately embroidered, mirrored vest that was also the same green that she wore. She slipped it on, but there was nothing to fasten the front.

It wasn't meant to be fastened… Saira thought.

Her breasts were covered, but barely, and she wondered if this had been a dancing girl's vest a time ago. Saira wound her long, dark hair into a bun, covered her head with a sheer piece of green silk, and slipped on her sandals. She carefully took up one of the oil lamps and tentatively stepped out of her room. She looked around at the broken columns and mosaics around her. This had been some sort of great hall once, its elegance long since destroyed.

Kahlil says he's a Prince… Saira thought. Was this once Karakal? It looks like this place was fit for a Kalif once.

There was a palace like this in the city of Balai were she'd been sold, but she had only caught a glimpse of it's magnificence as she was dragged away. Saira shook her head against the memory. That was a long time ago…

She looked up and one of the mosaics caught her eye. It was still mostly intact and in it, a beautiful woman was held aloft in a palanquin by many people. There was something behind her, something crimson, and bestial. There were claws and fangs, but she couldn't make out what it was—half of the mosaic was obliterated. There was part of an inscription below it, but most of it was meaningless to her.

She reached out and her small fingers traced the old calligraphy set in stone.

What did this say?

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."

Saira let out a surprised squeak and dropped her oil lamp. Instead of shattering against the marble, it hung there, suspended in the air. She saw Kahlil's golden eyes materialize in the darkness behind her.

"I didn't mean to frighten you."

He drifted over to her, and for the first time, Saira saw that he was clothed in black robes with elegant silver embroidery. A hood covered his head and he wore a black veil that hid his face. But she could see his golden eyes—his golden slitted eyes.

"Shai'el…" Saira breathed.

"No." he said softly. "The people who left you in the desert? They're the devils, not I."

Kahlil stretched out a covered hand and moved aside the green that covered her hair.

"You look beautiful, Saira." He said. "This color suits you."

He leaned in closer, and caught the scent of her, and felt himself grow hard for her again.

My beautiful lotus, he thought as he moved closer to Saira's lips. You taunt me, day and night—I can't get you from my head!

"Kahlil…" Saira uttered, as a blush suddenly tinged her dusky cheeks.

He clenched his fists and backed away abruptly, his erection near painful.

"Come." Kahlil said quietly. "You must be hungry."

He turned away, and Saira frowned slightly at his peculiar expression just now as she followed him down the broken, marble halls.

***

Saira ate her fill of meat and cheese, olives and figs. There were other fruits as well—exotic and sweet—that she had never tasted before. Kahlil poured her a half a glass of wine in a small, tarnished silver goblet and a little for himself.

"Will you have anything to eat?" Saira asked as she nibbled at an olive.

"I've already eaten."

With a covered hand, Kahlil carefully drew aside the veil and raised his goblet to his pale lips. Saira a hint of alabaster and sharp features beneath the veil. For a brief moment, his lips were stained far too bright with red. The veil softly fell back into place and he set his wine glass down.

"If you're the Prince of Karakal," Saira started quietly. "If this is Karakal, then why stay amongst these ruins?"

Kahlil sighed softly.

"Karakal was destroyed when the Kalif of Zanzura invaded." He said with a touch of bitterness. "The splendor that was once this great city has been lost."

"I'm sorry…"

Kahlil smiled slightly.

"It was a long time ago." he said. "Parts of the palace still survive, though. The rest the sands and time have claimed. This is my home—I can't bring myself to leave it."

Kahlil stood almost abruptly and took Saira's hand.

"Where are we--?"

"—I want to show you something."

He led her out of the small room that they dined in and through a succession of archways. They went down a spiral of broken stone stairs, through a dimly lit passage and out into a courtyard. The view was breathtaking as the setting sun painted the desert sky with vibrant reds, sultry oranges and royal purples.

Set against the magnificent background was a lush oasis. Palms stretched up to the sky and lotuses floated in the cool, blue pool.

"It's…beautiful."

"I try to keep it as close to the way it was before the palace was destroyed." Kahlil said as he led Saira down the steps and into the garden. "This is one of my favorite places to come, especially at night. It's very--"

"—peaceful." Saira finished for him.

Kahlil chuckled softly.

"Yes it is."

He went to a spot beneath one of the palms, guided Saira down next to him, and she reclined next to the pool. Saira gazed up at the night sky and as the moon rose, it reflected brightly in the pool like liquid silver. Kahlil gazed not at the sky, but at the sensuous curve of Saira's back as she lay on her side. He wanted to take hold of her round hips, part her legs, and…

Kahlil found himself reaching for Saira when she looked over her shoulder at him.

"What is it?" she asked softly.

"I… was wondering how you came to be in the desert."

Saira looked away from him for a moment.

"I was a slave." She said. "I wouldn't let my master have his way with me so he said if he couldn't have me, then the desert could."

Kahlil swept Saira up in his arms with inhuman speed and he cradled her against his chest.

"No one should ever have to endure such a fate." He murmured. "No one should ever suffer being thrown away like that."

"But you saved me..."

Saira looked up at Kahlil. That voice… She wanted to see the face that went with that sexy, sultry voice. Saira reached up to sweep away his veil, but Kahlil gently grabbed her wrist. He pressed her hand to his face and felt the warmth of her skin through the veil.

"Close your eyes." He said quietly.

"But--"

"--Close them."

Saira did as she was told and Kahlil lifted his veil. His lips lightly, chastely touched Saira's, afraid that he might nip her with his fangs. He was surprised when he felt her tongue gently push past his lips and he opened to her. Suddenly, Kahlil couldn't get enough of Saira. Green silk and dark hair tumble down her shoulder as he crushed his lips to hers. Kahlil ferociously sucked and lightly nipped at her lips, he kissed her down her neck and back up again to her jaw.

"Kahlil!" Saira gasped as she clutched at his robes.

She arched against the silk-bound hand that caressed one of her breasts while she felt a hot, wet mouth latch onto the other. Saira moaned softly as he sucked and played with her nipple as he coaxed it to stiffen.

"Kahlil, please…"

Kahlil was dimly aware of Saira's small hand trying to work its way further beneath his robes when he felt her fingers barely graze his flesh. He tore himself away from her and lifted her off his lap. Saira sat there next to him, bewildered.

Too far! Kahlil snarled at himself. I went too far!

"Kahlil?" Saira asked softly as she tried to reach out and caress his face. "What's wrong?"

"Don't…" he said thickly.

Kahlil saw the concern for him in her eyes and it made it that much harder for him to answer. Saira withdrew her hands. It pained him to see tears in her eyes.

"Kahlil?"

"I'm sorry," Kahlil said. "It's not your fault."

"Kahlil, tell me what's--"

He swept a hand down Saira's face and she fell against him, peacefully asleep. Kahlil stood up and started to fade with Saira in his arms and in moments they were in Saira's room. He gently laid her in her bed and made sure she was covered.

Kahlil jaunted from her room to his and he let out a roar of frustration as his fist smashed through one of the ruined columns. Stone scattered at his feet as his chest heaved. Every fiber of him begged for release that he ached for inside Saira. He dropped to his knees amid the rubble and felt the strain of his cock between his legs.