Author's Preface
The roasted tanus meat had gone long since cold on the platters, but nobody was paying attention to food.
When news of the smoke over the dunes reached the camp, Seyyid Mansur and Yahya had immediately left to manage the perimeter and attend to tribe matters. In the main tent, only the women remained: Amina, Halima, and Hayat, who had rushed over the moment she heard whispers of a second soulmate appearing, eager to catch every single detail.
The silence in the tent felt tight with anticipation until Hayat let out a soft, melodious laugh, breaking the tension.
"Auntie, it’s just too convenient," Hayat said teasingly, looking at Amina with a twinkle in her eyes. "Your sons have it so easy. Wives literally drop on them straight from the sky!"
Amina let out a warm, chuckling laugh, shaking her head. Halima’s face lit up with a grin as she eagerly picked up the joke.
"Right?!" Halima chimed in, leaning back into her cushions. "They don't even have to sweat it or go out searching for a bride. Everything just delivers itself right to their doorstep! And they don't even need to stress over 'Is this really my true love?'—Allah has already placed that love straight into their hearts before they even meet!"
All three women burst into laughter, the tent filling with bright, cozy warmth.
As the laughter settled, Hayat’s gaze drifted to Halima’s rounded, glowing belly. She watched how calmly Halima rested her hands over her baby, how serene and protected she looked in this family. A sudden, quiet pang of envy—sharp and bitter—struck Hayat’s chest.
If Halima had never fallen from the sky... Hayat thought, her fingers tightening around the edge of her silk sleeve. I would be the one living in this family now. Safe. Wrapped in Auntie Amina’s warmth and care. I wouldn't have been forced to marry terrible, cruel men. I wouldn't have had to stain my hands with blood to survive.
A heavy realization washed over her: if Halima hadn't arrived, Hayat’s life would have been peaceful, untainted, and happy. She quickly masked her thoughts with a polite, soft smile before anyone could notice the shadow in her eyes.
Amina, looking over at Halima, suddenly gasped as a thought struck her. "Oh, I just remembered! How on earth is Faris going to speak to her? He doesn't know her language!"
Halima smiled reassuringly. "Every realm has its own language, Auntie. And honestly, there’s no guarantee Faris’s soulmate comes from the exact same country or time as I do. But..." She patted her stomach playfully. "I did teach Faris a few basic words in English—the most universal language back on Earth."
Halima paused, tapping her own temple lightly to explain further. "Besides, if she’s an astronaut, she should have a neural translation chip implanted in her brain. It’s designed to analyze sound patterns in real time based on the situation. She’ll be able to understand at least some of what he says. Honestly, if my belly weren't so huge right now, I would have marched out there to help them myself!"
Amina and Hayat nodded, though a look of awe washed over their faces once again. Even though Halima had mentioned her world’s technology before, hearing about tiny brain chips capable of understanding foreign tongues felt like pure sorcery. How far her civilization had advanced was beyond their imagination.
Far out in the desert, the air was thick with the scent of scorched metal and ozone.
Faris stood completely frozen, his breath catching in his throat. He had never seen anything like this in his entire life. Beside him, Barq—his loyal, giant varak—started to buck and snort nervously, shifting his heavy claws in the hot sand.
"Easy, Barq," Faris murmured, his voice low and soothing as he reached up to stroke the beast’s broad head. "Don't be afraid. There is nothing to fear here."
At the familiar, calm touch of his master, Barq settled down, letting out a long, heavy huff. Faris patted the varak’s powerful neck in a practiced signal, and the massive creature bent its knees, crouching low to the sand just like a camel preparing for its rider to dismount.
Faris leaped off his mount’s back and stepped closer to the fallen vessel.
Halima had told him about "spaceships," but seeing one in reality was overwhelming. It was a strange, imposing structure made of a material Faris had never laid eyes on. It looked slightly similar to the dark, refined ore their blacksmiths used to forge spears and sabers. Is it the same metal? Faris wondered briefly, his eyes scanning the smooth, damaged hull. No matter. That isn't what matters right now.
Suddenly, as if by magic, a heavy hatch on the vessel hissed and slid open.
Out stepped a woman.
The moment Faris’s eyes landed on her, the world around him ceased to exist. His heart flared up like a sudden, roaring wildfire, pounding against his ribs so hard it felt deafening.
She was wearing strange, fitted garments he had never seen, but her face... her face was the exact image that had haunted his dreams and reflected in the depths of the Sacred Lake for months. Up close, without the distortion of water, she was breathtaking. Her features were delicate yet fierce, her blonde hair catching the golden desert light, and her presence hit him with a physical, staggering force. Every instinct in his body screamed that his wait was finally over. His soul recognized her instantly.
Inside her suit, Latifa stepped out of the pressurized airlock, her heart hammering against her chest.
The suit's internal HUD had displayed the atmospheric readings just moments ago: Atmosphere breathable. High temperature, moderate humidity. Safe for human respiration. Trusting the readouts, she had removed her heavy flight helmet, letting the sweltering desert air hit her face.
She looked around, and a wave of pure panic washed over her.
Endless, rolling sand dunes stretched out to the horizon under a blazing, unfamiliar sun. Hot, heavy air clung to her skin. What do I do now? she thought wildly. Her ship had collided with space debris and asteroids during atmospheric entry; the structural damage was catastrophic. Was there any intelligent life on this planet? Were there monstrous predators lurking beneath the sand? How was she supposed to repair a deep-space vessel with no specialized tools?
The questions rained down on her mind like a crushing hailstorm.
No. Stop it. Don't panic, she commanded herself, taking a sharp breath of the hot air. Calm down, Latifa. You are alive. You will figure this out.
She lifted her head—and instantly froze. A blood-curdling scream tore from her throat.
"Ahhh! Don't—don't come any closer! Stay away from me!"
Standing just paces away was a man. But calling him a man felt like an understatement—he was a titan. Easily over two meters tall, broad-shouldered, with short, striking silver hair that shimmered in the sun, and intense, golden-yellow eyes that seemed to glow.
Terror gripped Latifa’s chest, making her stumble backward against the hot hull of her ship.
Faris, still completely spellbound by her beauty, felt a sudden, heavy sorrow crush his chest when he heard her scream. He saw the genuine, wild terror in her eyes—she was terrified of him. Standing before her was an imposing, unfamiliar giant in a strange desert.
He didn't want her to fear him. Not her.
Slowly, deliberately, Faris took a step back and raised both of his palms facing outward to show he held no weapons. He softened his golden eyes, pouring all the gentle warmth and reverence in his soul into his gaze.
"No... no fear," Faris said, his voice deep and rumbling as he struggled with the unfamiliar, broken English words Halima had taught him. "No danger. I am... friend."
Latifa froze, nearly forgetting how to breathe. The scream died in her throat. In this terrifying, alien world, amidst the scorching sands, this colossal stranger had just spoken to her in her own tongue. His voice rolled deep and smooth, and his glowing golden eyes held no threat—only an inexplicable, quiet ache and boundless gentleness.
For a moment, a ringing silence hung in the air between them as their eyes locked—and Latifa's heart skipped one long, uneven beat.
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