Bhallar wrapped a turban over his head and swung the longer end over his shoulder. His latest companion, Bur, was slower than his last one, Zor, which was saying something. Imagine a six-month-old crawling; that is how fast Zor was.

"I don't mean to pressurize you, my lovely, but I am in a hurry." The aspiring bounty hunter caressed Bur's hump lovingly; the camel bleated. It sounded like a moan.

The sexy kind.

It made the young man feel lonely for just a moment. He shook his head. Since the age of ten, he knew he could never lead a 'normal' life. Even if he was to succeed in his plans, the chances of which were a smidgen less than impossible, the sacrifices he would have to make would leave him-

"Hey!"

A somewhat familiar voice stopped his descent into the valley of pessimism: the dark place in the physician's head.

Bhallar glanced at his compass before turning to look behind him.

The man who had saved him from the dark place in his mind wore a turban similar to Bhallar's, except that it looked new (or at least, washed) and covered everything except his eyes.

The said man caught up with him moments later. His eyes reflected Ra's rays and shone.

Bhallar was mesmerized. He couldn't have seen what he thought he had, right?

'Nah. It must be Ra's rays playing tricks on me.' The physician concluded and bowed politely, "Sir, did you mean to call me?"

"I think you dropped this." The man replied, holding out a pouch to the latter.

Bhallar's lips fell open. He didn't have to tap the front of his robes to confirm that the pouch in the man's hand was his, yet he did it anyway.

The physician snatched the item with a force that its contents didn't warrant, or so the latter thought.

The green-eyed man raised his brow. Curious. 'They are just candies. Why did he snatch them off of me like they were his life's savings?" he contemplated, watching Bhallar cradle the pouch to his chest and look at him with tears in his eyes.

"Thank you, good sir. I owe you a favor. I don't know when or how, but I will repay your kindness."

The physician's words confused the latter more than his actions had. There was definitely something he was missing. 'Maybe it's not what's in it, but the item itself.' he guessed again.

He was closer to the truth this time around. The pouch that was now nestled against Bhallar's chest was the last gift his sister had given him before disappearing. On it, Mayeen had embroidered the first alphabets of their names. She had intertwined them so seamlessly that it was impossible to tell where one ended and where the other began. The thread the girl had used was similar to the color of her eyes: golden.

'Dada, I made it for you. Do you like it?'

'Beautiful, just like you, little sister.'

'I am not little anymore. I am capable of looking after myself. Don't worry about me, alright?'

'You are my little sister; I will always worry about you.'

'In that case, think of this as an extension of me.'

'I don't understand, Mayeen.'

'You can't stay with us forever. And I know you miss us. If you keep this with you, it will be like I am there with you. That way, you won't ever be alone.'

'I won't ever be alone?'

'No. You won't. Our bond won't let that happen. I promise.'

'Our bond?'

'Yes, Dada, our bond.'

"I almost lost you again!" Bhallar muttered, clutching the purse tightly, unaware that pale green eyes had not left him even for a moment.

"Hey, are you alright?" The green-eyed man asked; he was immediately taken aback by how genuine he sounded, "You don't look so good."

"I couldn't sleep well last night," Bhallar replied sincerely, wondering where he had heard the kind voice, but try as he may, he couldn't place them, that is until Ra hid behind a fluffy cloud and the physician's light eyes found the latter's green ones.

It is the hunter I had bumped into at the bumpy axe. The one who the big man had addressed as Philitis.

The physician's hand moved over his birthmark, just as the bounty hunter unclipped the hem of his turban. As the makeshift veil fell to the man's shoulder, it revealed a smirking man with soft angular brows and a straight, wide nose that stood out, giving the hunter a powerful, warrior-like appearance.

"You!" The physician exclaimed accusingly, "Why are you following me?"

Bur bleated. Agitated. The slow (but steady) camel had enough of the stupid conversation. 'Aren't you getting late now!?' It seemed to be demanding its temporary rider.

"There is no bad blood between us...what's your name again?" The hunter asked, trying to get the name of the one who had piqued his interest.

"I specifically remember not giving it to you." Bhallar evaded before remembering that without Philitis, his beloved candy-carrier would have been lost (maybe) forever; he shook his head. "I am sorry. I was rude just now. I am Bhallar."

"Bhallar from the department of disease detection and control, am I right? It's nice to meet you again."

"Amm, about that-" Embarrassment flickered in Bhallar's light orbs.

"You lied. I know."

Bhallar started getting restless. He hadn't even embarked on his quest, and he had already caught a hunter's attention.

"You did the right thing. Khaf kinda deserved that." Philitis chucked, "He is not the sharpest tool in the shed. He is a good fighter, though."

"Oh." Bhallar worried his bottom lip; his eyes wandered over to the nearest milestone. "Listen, I would really like to stay and talk-"

"Would you...really? It looked to me like you were in a hurry."

Bhallar sighed, "I was... I mean, I am in a hurry."

"I think you took a wrong turn at the last crossroad. West Qulsairis is that way." Philitis pointed to his left.

Bhallar's brows inched closer. "How do you know-"

"I was following you."

"Why?"

"Because," The young hunter's eyes twinkled, a predatory grin settled on his lips, "It didn't feel right to let you go alone."

"I am a grown man!" Bhallar felt offended.

"I don't doubt that, but you are...let's just say you are pleasant on the eyes and your fingers look like they have never worked a dagger."

"I didn't ask for your help." Bhallar cleared his throat; he felt his cheeks heat. He thanked almighty Ra for his dusky complexion. "Moreover, it doesn't matter."

"Doesn't it? These are dangerous times; are you sure you don't want me?"

The physician felt out of his depth, and not wanting to expose his undoubtedly flustered countenance, he bowed to the hunter and turned away. "Thank you for the offer, but you have already done enough. I don't dare to impose on you any further. May almighty Ra light your life. Zeaiker*." patting Bur's back, Bhallar left the intrigued hunter behind.

"Zeaiker!" Philitis called and stared at the physician's back till the latter disappeared behind a sand dune; opening his palm, he turned a violet-colored candy between his finger. "You are pretty; I wonder how you taste." he wondered aloud, holding the sweet he had stolen from Bhallar's purse to Ra's hot rays before smiling and popping it in his mouth.
He moaned, loud and dirty, "How was Qulsairis able to hide this treasure from me till now?" he glanced at his permanent traveling companion, Halm, and ran his fingers through the camel's long, slender neck.

"Nevermind, I know where to find you now." he whispered, unable to get neither the physician's light eyes nor his reverently spoken words 'I almost lost you again' out of his mind.

"Who are you, Bhallar?" He asked, closing his eyes; relishing the taste of the candy on his tongue, he continued, "And why does it feel like you are the only one who can lead me to my destination?"

***

"If this is a joke, then let me tell you, my friend, it's a terrible one; I am not laughing." Almat, the young man dressed in dark gray overalls, pointed at himself (his face, to be exact).

"See, I am not smiling!" his index finger moved to cover the perimeter of his oval face, which housed his thin pink lips, large, round deep-set eyes, the color of coal, and straight shoulder-length hair, "This man is not happy."

Of all the things Bhallar had expected his friend to say after he had told him what he was planning to do to save Mayeen, this was not it.

"Almat, I am not joking." The aspiring bounty hunter insisted, "I am very serious about it."

The architect shook his head, "The sun has gotten to you, Bhallar." he offered the latter a glass of water, "When was the last time you said hello to your reflection?"

However, before Bhallar could respond, Almat stopped him with a finger on his lips, "Judging by your unkempt beard and the puffiness of your eye bags, I would say two weeks give or take a day. Is Almat close?"
The mention of his beard and eye bags made Bhallar feel a bit self-conscious. He took the offered glass and emptied its contents in one go.

"Listen, I am very happy for you. I know how much sister Mayeen means to you but think about it logically. Bhallar, your plan is terrible. You are not a hunter. You are a doctor." The architect ran his fingers over his brows.

Bhallar referred to this gesture as the serious-talk action.

Almat was known for two things: beautiful architectural designs and comic timing that rivaled even Pharaoh's jester. The man never left a room without making everyone there laugh. However, hardly anyone was aware of his kind and generous heart. He fed the poor who couldn't make ends meet. He sponsored scholarships to children who had lost their fathers and had no source of income.

Presently, Almat was working on buying land to build accommodation for those who had lost their homes when river Aari had flooded the year before.

If Bhallar could pick anyone to rule the New Kingdom, he would, without hesitation, pick Almat. Unfortunately, he couldn't, at least not till he could get rid of Tutuamen.

'Death is not the answer. It can't fix what's broken.' Bhallar recalled the last sentence in his father's journal. He shook his head and sat up straight, bracing himself for the 'serious talk' that was undoubtedly coming his way.

"Bhallar, give me some time. I will arrange a bounty hunter on your behalf."

"The bounty on her head is worth more than you can make in ten years." The would-be-bounty hunter supplied.

"Really. That much!?"

Bhallar nodded. "One hundred thousand gold coins."

"Oh!" Almat's eyes registered surprise, "Any idea what she has been charged with?"

The concerned brother shook his head, "No, the poster didn't mention it."

Almat tapped his temple, "Are you sure it was Tutuamen's seal that you saw on the poster?"

"I know the royal seal by heart. Moreover, who other than the royals can afford to pay such high sums to the hunters."

Almat's ever-present optimism faded a tinge. Nonetheless, he forged on, "How about I ask those I have helped to return the favor?" the architect smiled, "Better yet, I am stronger than you; how about I accompany you?"

Bhallar stood up and chapped the latter's shoulder, "I am sorry, but I will have to refuse you on both accounts. Many are indeed obligated to you, but no one would stand up for this cause. No one is stupid enough to go up against Tutuamen. And as far as you are concerned, I can't drag you down with me."

Almat could taste dejection in Bhallar's words, and him being who he was, couldn't just sit there and do nothing. He was going to help his best friend, and that was that. End of discussion. Almat stopped the latter before he could step out into the hot afternoon sun, "Wait. If you are so adamant about doing this, then do it right."

The architect gave his friend a once-over and sat him down. "Let's start with the basics. You will need weapons. Also, the way you look now is a big no-no."

"What do you mean?"

"You poor sod." Almat left an exasperated breath. "Don't worry. Almat is here. And he will make sure you do not make a fool of yourself. Now, let's hope sister Mayeen is smarter than you and can keep herself alive till you can get to her."

[Chapter word count: 2134
Word count so far: 7521 ]

Glossary:

Zeaiker - Goodbye or Stay well